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2016/01/28

"I don’t believe in the irreversibility of situations" Deleuze

"I don’t believe in the irreversibility of situations" Deleuze

... and what do ... ...

____________________________________________________________


  ... and what do you do  ... you know,  how do you?   

                     ... and I answered and I gotta admit I was smiling...


   Oh   I'm just a literary bum    ..   ...        And  I was laughing then it's pretty  

funny


I do this                                        that                            

     
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Re:Re: there's nothing calm about real creation


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Yes but I gotta point out that my actual collages were much better than anything I ever did with so called digital media.

  _________________  with real collages, things rot and lose their colour, the glue comes undone,
                                               
                                                    as with real bodies,
     
                                            i'd suspect or imagine that with so called digital collage
                                                       they won't    'age' in the same way




------------------------------------

I did a collage once that was 6 feet  its still over at what's his name's house....

I wonder really if it
s any  good


collage in general doesn't age well  I mean in terms of content most of it could go in the garbage, no one

will remember any of it. Good Collage is rare.




    and rare by definition is rare.



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Re: Re: there's nothing calm about real creation

odds

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this year it'll be
    a hundred years since the Easter Uprising of 1916.



 


 expressions


'it makes no odds to it' 'to them' 'to you to her to I'



-------------------

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a t



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Add the names of those who died at a certain age :

 Names that come to mind

 Felix Guattari  was dead at 62

Joyce was dead at 59 and all these years I thought he  was dead at sixty something


and it turns out , in fact, he was not quite 59   'He would have been 59 years old Feb. 2." as he died January 13, 1941, .
I find this so shocking,  Not even fifty-nine yet so  heart breaking Not  59.

'He awoke at 2 a.m. on 13 January 1941, and asked for a nurse to call his wife and son,'


 It rips me apart to read it.

Joyce is our father, he is, I believe our father, or like something very near to our father in 20th century letters. Near everyone who met him  got that sense from him,  and anyone who's read him deeply gets that sense of paternity, something strong and terribly responsible. (the sentiment is echoed in the last page of Wake )
 I don't understand it. In the sense that whence it comes I do not fully understand, I had it early on reading him, even when I didn't understand  what he was writing, in the Wake especially, I had the sense it was already inside of me... whence this? this knowing?

   His devotion to his  work,family and children was exceptional.

I think he is to 20th century Literature, at least to those who've read about him and his era, I believe he is something like Maurice Richard is to hockey, a very powerful father figure. And all the men, and the women too, who knew him had this sense from him. Joyce drew tears from grown men.



Joyce is all father.   and there is so much laughter in his work, and also the regret and anguish there in the terrible calls which ring out in the last pages of the Wake, but it is momentary as it all begins again.

Joyce is the least bastard of Literature in the twentieth century which is also why so many writers from so many cultures have come to be drawn to him.

Joyce is at the opposite spectrum to Genet the bastard of twentieth century literature and by virtue of that he becomes the father to bastard people, to bastard children, and individuals. He becomes  a Father too but from the other way around.

He too  will reduce you to tears but the tears come I believe from a different place and I don't know the name of that at this moment.

Genet never knew anything about his father, not a thing. Nor does anyone else. He knew little of his mother but far more about her than his father.

Joyce on the other hand, knew everything about his Father and his family and likewise he knew all there was to know about his Mother.

Genet was the only bastard son of a mother who had to leave him to charity as she could not afford to keep him. She herself was to die at the age of 31.

Joyce came from a family of 10 3 brothers and 6 sisters.

On one of my uncle's and aunt's side I have 8 cousins none of whom I have seen since the early 80's of the last century.


Cousins O cousins where are you? are you content with your lives?



Each of us comes into this world not choosing where and how we will be born.
If literature means anything it is what we choose to make it.

Yes life and death and breath and breaking bones, and getting old, and cold. or mad, and crazy Lear like madness on the beach and only our true selves found in poetry, the poetry we write.

And life  those we love and love dying and being born. 


It happens every day doesn't it , people die before their time whatever their time was. my own father at 29. and so others thousands even at this moment are dying away as others are born. and some
writers live to be old

and some not.

pick out your own names. There are the mothers and fathers.


2016/01/27

how the old returns history a bad movie playing the reRuns the dead Wood the Old war movie the old Political ReInCarnation the old power hogs...


________________________________________________ The old Returns under Another Name or Even the Same Name!! the name Clinton!


  America and its Trumps and Clintons America America with its death spreading across the .. map...


America America where are you?
America gave birth to Miller
where from this Clinton Monstrosity and
his headless BushClinton Hoary eyed hell hound?


Death Wish Hillary Primes Manchurian Candidate

Alexander Cockburn

I quote the the first item of Cockburn's article
about the Clinton maniac machine



Ever since she realized back in early March that Obama was going to take the nomination Hillary Clinton’s long-term strategy has been to do her best to ensure McCain will win this November so she can become the Democratic nominee in 2012. But she had a short term strategy too and on Friday she deliberately made it explicit in a newspaper office in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. There she suggested that some is likely to step up to the plate and assassinate Barack Obama in the waning moments of the California primary, just as Bobby Kennedy was forty years go almost to the day. The wish is mother to the deed. If anything does happen to Obama in California Mrs Clinton should surely be indicted as a co-conspirator.

How to else construe her grotesque remarks in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, in the editorial offices of the Argus Leader newspaper. Here she told the editors, "My husband did not wrap up the nomination in 1992 until he won the California primary somewhere in the middle of June, right? We all remember Bobby Kennedy was assassinated in June in California. I don't understand it," she said, dismissing calls to drop out.

There is no other way to construe these sentences, not thrown over her shoulder on a campaign walk, but delivered in measured tones to the Argus-Leader editorial board, but to interpret them as Mrs Clinton’s more or less explicit statement that she is spending a million a day just to keep her hat in the ring because Obama might well get killed. Then, just like the scenario at the end of the Manchurian candidate, Hillary will straddle Obama’s bleeding body, make the speech of her life and become the assured nominee. In fact, right now she’s probably sitting down with some numbed vet and whispering coyly in her best Angela Lansbury mode to the Lawrence Harvey stand-in, “How about passing the time by playing a little solitaire?" I pass on whether Hillary reprises Angela Lansbury’s famous incestuous kiss on her son’s lips. Perhaps Sid Blumenthal is the stand-in, though I doubt he’s a very good shot.

To get added insight into what a truly nasty woman Hillary Clinton is, remember that her remarks on Friday came a couple of days after Edward Kennedy was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. Next thing you know, his fellow senator is saying that California might well be celebrating the fortieth anniversary of his borther’s murder by killing the candidate he has endorsed for the nomination.

Now Hillary Clinton is dutifully saying that she was misunderstood, that she had no intention, no thought, that she might be taking about SOMEONE KILLING OBAMA, SOMEONE SHOOTING THE BLACK MAN DEAD, JUST LIKE SOMEONE SHOT BOBBY KENNEDY DEAD IN CALIFORNIA, IN CALIFORNIA, DEAD, REALLY DEAD. Oh my heavens no, the thought never crossed my mind.

Recall too that as Jeffrey pointed out in his Wednesday piece here, Mrs Clinton and her mouthpieces have been steadily raising the volume on their verbal-lynching. In South Dakota Mrs Clinton lit the fuse

Good Old Camille Paglia weighs in on Hillary


Hillary Clinton's candidacy has done feminism no favours


By Camille Paglia
Last Updated: 12:01pm BST 24/05/2008

When the dust settles over the 2008 election, will Hillary Clinton have helped or hindered women's advance toward the US presidency?


H?
Right now, Hillary is in Godzilla mode, refusing to accept Barack Obama's looming nomination and threatening to tie the Democratic party in legal knots until the August convention and beyond.


Robotic Clintonvia

2016/01/25

Re: there's nothing calm about real creation

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Re: there's nothing calm about real creation

 but there's also scissors and paper, the glue of collage, the messy fun , the fun 

      theres' the sort of Fun side of it

  yes yes  

CP/  think of that whole lineage going back to Arp and Hoch and thousands of lesser  known artists but no less worthy, the montage collage the breaks and pieces and so  so  you knew about that.



C.D.   Absolutely!



C.P.  it's like the tape work you've done!
   C.D.   Yes yeah! I know about it, hundreds of hours of it!

C.P.  you tried doing it digitally for a couple of years on this blog and others...  but you've left that pretty much... 

C.D.  yes C that's true .


it's true

it's true

like

the air is blue

as the moon rips open a cloud

tinkles a sound over the air 




___________________________________ 

______________ 


 

there's nothing calm about real creation

_____________




there's nothing calm about real creation


                                             _________________________


add up all the poems, the work in other genres, the work here and there.. what's calm about it? what's recollected about it?




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2016/01/21

deities, goddessesm gods etc.


____________________________________________________


More reshapes on these 'experimental thoughts' 


on the quarter instant of god and religious insanity
a blakean bird thought comes to mind
this an
then some. Excuse me she did the toottoot of flute art its ragweed bear thought a star busting arse a gaze geesing the forlorn pages of night blogs bogs anonymous the human breast.' Its nice you quote Mister Blake Mister D. but dont yoi think yer being a little mushy? ordinary folk dont give a hot hoot
then some.
  (or is it blakean buggery?)

Excuse me she did the toottoot of flute art its ragweed bear thought a star busting arse a gaze geesing the forlorn pages of night blogs bogs anonymous the human breast.' Its nice you quote Mister Blake Mister D. but dont yoi think yer being a little mushy? ordinary folk dont give a hot hoot about nuttin. What ordinary people think is birth , death, fuck shit and piss. more kids nd attempting to realize or abstract the mental deities from their objects: thus began Priesthood;Choosing forms of worship from poetic tales.And at length they pronounc'd that the Gods had order'd such things.Thus men forgot that All deities reside in whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could percieve.And particularly they studied the genius of each city & country, placing it under its mental deity;Till a system was formed, which some took advantage of & with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and guide and protect their daily lives but the fanatics of any persuasion for the bringers of death and shit the purveyors of weapons  in advance of the deaths of daily life swinging the veil of on the quarter instant of god and religious insanity a O FabUlouS ArtiFicer Father!
thought comes to mind this an apt reply to the lunatics of religion this is not for

the ordinary people who pray or seek to find some god


What people think is birth , death, fuck shit and piss. more kids & attemp to realize or abstract the mental deities from their objects: thus began Priesthood;Choosing forms of worship from poetic tales. And at length they pronounc'd that the Gods had order'd such things.Thus men forgot that All deities reside in whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could percieve.And particularly they studied the genius of each city & country, placing it under

She works in the day holdin her hand. It is a god dead machine.


did becomings-future a people in advance of the deaths the toottoot of flute art its ragweed bear thought a of daily life swinging the veil of on star busting arse a gaze geesing the forlorn pages the quarter instant of god and religious insanity of night blogs bogs anonymous a blakean bird thought comes to mind this an apt reply to the lunatics of religion this is not for the ordinary people who pray or seek to find some god to and adorning them with that


2 Sends him Love letters written by Gilles Deleuze to Clair Parnet. Meanwhile bored Blogger in Italy sends endless think yer being a little mushy? ordinary folk but the fanatics of any persuasion for the dont give a hot hoot about nuttin. What ordinary bringers of death and shit the purveyers of people think is birth , death, fuck shit and piss. weapons the poet's job is to be a more kids nd then some. Excuse me she a system was formed, which some took mental deity;Till a system was formed, which some advantage of & enquestion: what sign what song what sign?


un’idea, nel momento in cui diciamo: “ecco, ho un’idea”? un’idea nel cinema? Se si fa del cinema, o se si vuol fare del cinema, cosa significa avere solo questo che ci possiamo dire. O meglio, io porrei la questione in maniera diversa: cosa significa avere va male dalle vostre parti; ma va piuttosto male anche dalle mie! [risata del pubblico] Ma non è quando faccio (o quando spero di fare) della filosofia? Abbiamo davvero qualcosa da dirci, a tale proposito? Certo, che cosa fate voi, di preciso, quando fate del cinema? Ed io, che cosa metto in atto precisamente Vorrei anch’io porre delle domande. E ponendole a voi, porle a me stesso. Qualcosa… qualcosa del tipo:

All deities lodge in the human breast.' It's the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nice you quote Mister Blake Mister D. but dont nations, and guide and protect their daily lives yoi slav'd the vulgar by attempting took advantage of & enslav'd the vulgar by to realize or abstract the mental deities from hope  the whole panoply of Lack and Shit   Capital capturing the ancient night and land  Poets animated from poetic tales.And at length they at all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling the Gods had order'd such thin     Sp Ever forgot them by the names calling them began


Choosing forms of worship from poetic tales.And by the names and adorning them with the at length they pronounc'd that the Gods had properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, order'd such things.Thus men forgot that All deities and whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could reside in whatever their enlarged & numerous senses percieve.And particularly they studied the genius of each could percieve.And particularly they studied the genius of city & country, placing it under its mental each city & country, placing it under its deity;Till but dont yoi think yer the bringers of death and shit the purveyers of weapons the being Vorrei anch’io porre delle domande. E ponendole a voi, porle a me stesso. Qualcosa… qualcosa del tipo: che cosa fate voi, di preciso, quando fate del cinema? Ed io, che cosa metto in atto precisamente quando faccio (o quando spero di fare) della filosofia? Abbiamo davvero qualcosa da dirci, a tale proposito? Certo, va male dalle vostre parti; ma va piuttosto male anche dalle mie! [risata del pubblico] Ma non è solo questo che ci possiamo dire.
O meglio, io porrei la questione in maniera diversa: cosa significa avere un’idea nel cinema? Se si fa del cinema, o se si vuol fare del cinema, cosa significa avere un’idea, nel momento in cui diciamo: “ecco, ho un’idea”?


a little mushy? ordinary folk dont give poet's job is to be a becomings-future a people a hot hoot about nuttin. What ordinary people in advance of the deaths of daily life swinging think isn oone knows.

all her word rods are on parole
birth , death, fuck shit and the veil of hope cutting thru the barrier surrendering each piss. more kids nd attempting to realize or power prestige ego paranoiac button 'The ancient Poets animated all abstract the mental deities from their objects: thus sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, on the quarter instant of god and religious___bliss? __ then some. Excuse me she did insanity a blakean bird thought comes to mind this an the toottoot of flute art its ragweed bear apt reply to the lunatics of religion this is thought a star busting arse a gaze geesing not for the ordinary people who pray or seek the forlorn pages of night blogs bogs anonymous to find some god to guide and protect their the human breast.' Its nice you quote Mister daily lives but the fanatics of any persuasion for Blake Mister D.
scHIzo69 scHIzo69 scHIzo69 scHIzo69 scHIzo69 scHIzo69
a balkan Bird A balKan Bird


its mental deity;Till a system was formed, which some took advantage of & enslav'd the vulgar by hope snipping  thru the tariff   give way each power prestige ego paranoiac button 'The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and guide and protect their daily lives but the fanatics of any persuasion for the bringers of death and shit the purveyers of weapons the poet's job is to be a becomings-future a people in advance of the deaths of daily life swinging the veil of on the quarter instant of god and religious insanity a blakean bird thought comes to mind this an apt reply to the lunatics of religion this is not for the ordinary people who pray or seek to find some god to



apt reply to the lunatics of religion
this is not for the ordinary people who pray
or seek to find some god to guide and protect
their daily lives
but the fanatics of any persuasion

for the bringers of death
and shit
the purveyers of weapons

 job is to be a becomings-future
a people in advance of the deaths of daily life
swinging the veil of hope
ting thru the barrier
surrendering each power prestige ego paranoiac
button


then some. Excuse me she did the toottoot of flute art its ragweed bear thought a star busting arse a gaze geesing the forlorn pages of night blogs bogs anonymous the human breast.' Its nice you quote Mister Blake Mister D. but dont yoi think yer being a little mushy? ordinary folk dont give a hot hoot about nuttin. What ordinary people think is birth , death, fuck shit and piss. more kids nd attempting to realize or abstract the mental deities from their objects: thus began Priesthood;Choosing forms of worship from poetic tales.And at length they pronounc'd that the Gods had order'd such things.Thus men forgot that All deities reside in whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could percieve.And particularly they studied the genius of each city & country, placing it under its mental deity;Till a system was formed, which some took advantage of & enslav'd the vulgar by hope  each power prestige ego paranoiac button 'The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and guide and protect their daily lives but the fanatics of any persuasion for the bringers of death and shit the purveyers of weapons the poet's job is to be a becomings-future a people in advance of the deaths of daily life swinging the veil of on the quarter instant of god and religious insanity a blakean bird thought comes to mind this an apt reply to the lunatics of religion this is not for the ordinary people who pray or seek to find some god to



'she ancient  foets animated all sensible objects with pod or peniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could percieve.  
And particularly they studied the genius of each city & country, placing it under its mental deity;Till a system was formed, which some took advantage of & enslav'd the vulgar by attempting to realize or abstract the mental deities from their objects: thus began Priesthood;Choosing forms of worship from poetic tales.
And at length they pronounc'd that the Gods had order'd such things.Thus men forgot that                       All deities reside in the human breast.'

that phrase the last one stood out for me and many others,however with the passing of time it's  a cliche that needs to be examined and looked at from different angles what does it mean reside in the human breast?
at the most literal level it could only refer to a molecular level, a kind of vestry.
Did Blake know about the molecular level? was he aware of it? did he experience it? were his own visions gates into perception opening up the molecular field of sight and vision?


"Its nice you quote Mister Blake Mister D. but dont yoi think yer being a little mushy? ordinary folk dont
give a hot hoot about nuttin."__Christ what a general! a generalization! a totalization!

What ordinary people think is birth , death, fuck shit and piss. more kids nd then some. Excuse me she did the toottoot of flute art its ragweed bear thought a star busting arse a gaze geesing the forlorn pages of night blogs bogs anonymous


 ordinary people ordinary people
ordinay 

ordinal people
order people

order

ordure
ordure
or en durance

or

Or

d'Or

referred to in blue dog 

(the book)


what's ordinary people mister Blake? are you Mister? Blake? Blake moved to the corner her eyes flashing in the productive sunlight subjectivities and clarities
Is that how you orthograph? Miss Blake?
Do I
-----------------------

One 

I turn this work to the corner so those who cannot cannot see
the better that they don't see what they could not see
nor never will




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2016/01/20

literature as a health


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Blogger C. D. said...

this is not about stravinsky its about shift and switch. id never listened or read these pple. before, and as I listened to this podcast at rabble ca
http://www.rabble.ca/rpn/files/rbl/rbl-2006-01-22.mp3


i ask myself daniel, whether its thei r voice, the actual physical voice, voices of this generation which is weak; not that they are not intelligent,but they seem to have no actualy presence in their vocies, and so their poems as such are weak; its as if these are people who have never yoweled, or yelled, or hollered, you know what I mean... i find it strange on the other hand the spoken word, folks,are often like that as well,. even the more interesting speakers, or voices, as one might say, are them that have voices,that have never yelled. its th e inbition machine, its not much that they are bad poets, whatever that is, that they, and us, me and you, the whole machine is ill, sick, feeble, weakened,run down, busted, broke, that no judgment left can give us no judgement, ; i mean one asks where is a machine ? that speaks with the heavy husk of reality,is that it?
im not sure ... ill continue this on one of my blogs recalltopoetryas now Ive provoked myself into thought if nothing else, oh and by the way, if anything t he problem then, daniel is that we need to think and not respond with heavy handed hasty snap decisions as of those of quick temper llike myself and you are prone, to , but more to ask oneself where does this begin and end, and what does it mean, what is it when we say something is a good or bad so called poem or work of art object,... you dig?
O i do gotta say one thinng abt stravinsky hes my man, but he too bought into the i had a bad childhoodbullshit but no matter his music was stronger than his ideas.. yes, that might be the clue, we need to discuss literature as a health... so yea, i'd like to think we discuss poetry as a health, and examine unexamined ideas, behind the idea of what's good and bad, and in this way, heal some of the rifts of what has become the big rip in poesy as in the rest of our civil body...

cheers good friend...
we need to Think Think Think
and that of course, goes for me too.
double time
check meter~
lo
ve ~

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is love a middle class phenomena?

`


is love a middle class phenomena?



                   there would be no love in  a                 communist state it wouldn't be necessary. 

     O the terrible masses of those who shout out it cannot be! it cannot be!

                    and it isn't of course
                                                    that state doesn't exist 


 it was  question not a statement but certainly in the vaunted communist state the usual ideas, of love, whatever they are, would change   .

                           a provocative polemic


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`


__Love as diagrammatic 'data'... in the exchange_____________ heap(s)

`

__Love as diagrammatic 'data'... in the exchange_____________ heap(s)

`

2016/01/19

W

.


                         winter the back arse of summer

22 below with the wind   .. chill


blow blow thou winter wind 


.



   I saw a naked woman walkin in the rain with her umbrella she 

                 was standing upright  

  i saw another walking in the winter silhouetted 
                       naked

 the air was cutting her to pieces

I said to my lady

turn an turn again we walked down steps
      a darker circle hollering out the hooliganism of forced friendship   
                         the tactic of enforced debt
       
       that infinite judgement which never ending ends
                                                              us
  
  and my lady tears near the narrow top of her eye-lids  said 

   She is coming she is coming


  I reached for the air                    vanished             vanished like apin in the light



_ winter__note

______________


   winter it is    .  a real  . season .



  . winter .   it  is  a  a sea


  winter is a  sea  i never noticed that before

   the hour came

    winter sea it's   

     harsh belting wind



.

2016/01/15

Ark

.


do i get first reading


  

     the other dream it's a house filled with dream people crossing over from different races and genres. we don't know who we are or what & our job is to keep an open mind to let our hearts grasp the ungraspable . i pause as you repose we wake to dream our subtle bodies have been lovers for days&



 a week a fortnight. in real life this might appear unlikely here it is an almost an everyday occurrence ... where does the dream begin and the ending of our skin our kisses our flowing unified&



    it is the name I call. a prone; text reaching into its 



.