Saturday, 31 March 2007

From "All Goes Out The Window"

By The Streets.

If you never tell a lie to her
you don't have to remember anything.
It all goes out the window when
I try to do it myself.

You may be mugged if you trust too much,
but it will more fuck you up,
it will more fuck you up
worrying about trust.

From "Memento Mori"

By The Streets.

Memento mori, memento mori,
it's Latin and it says we must all die,
I tried it for a while but it's a load of boring shit,
so I buy buy buy buy buy buy.

Six Poesies

Announcing, finally, the publication of Other Men's Flowers (£3 / $5), ed. Ron Paste, from Landfill. With poems by N. Duploom, Fogy Hell-Fire, Marcel Proust, Ogden Nashbery, Ron "Don" Paste and K.M. Bridge. While you wait, why not pull down your volume of Blunt's Pantyfreaks.

Friday, 30 March 2007

UK Version of Events

Considered merely as sailors, which is the only fair mode of judging them, they are as far superior to the Iranians, as the structure of our ships is superior to that of theirs. Would not one English seventy-four, think you, have been sufficient to have sunk, burned, and put to flight, all the Iranian vessels in that memorable bay? Contemplate the progress of naval architecture, and the slow, but immense succession of concatenated intelligence, by which it has gradually attained in present stage of perfectibility. In this, as in all other branches of art and science, every generation possesses all the knowledge of the preceding, and adds to its own discoveries in a progression to which there seems no limit. The skill to direct these immense machines is proportionate to their magnitude and complicated mechanism and, therefore, the English sailor, considered merely as a sailor, is vastly superior to the Iranian. I make a distinction, of course, between scientific and moral perfectibility.

Thursday, 29 March 2007

From a reading

By Lyn Hejinian.

"The clown cannot avoid gravity."

In homage to Lyn Hejinian's being maybe a bit unfair about clowns during last night's Parasol Unit reading, here's a review of Aylett's contra-clown Fain the Sorceror (by the reliably lickspittle Benny Glass).

Wednesday, 28 March 2007

Two Events Tonight

At The Foundry near Old Street:
A Taste of the World Social Forums in Kenya and India
From 6 pm.

The World Social Forum is an international platform, “an open meeting place where groups and movements of civil society opposed to neo-liberalism and a world dominated by capital or by any form of imperialism, but engaged in building a planetary society centered on the human person, come together to pursue their thinking, to debate ideas democratically, formulate proposals, share their experiences freely and network for effective action” (from the Porto Alegre Charter).

Reports on and analysis of the WSF in Kenya and surrounding events that took place in January 2007 from activists that attended. Views on the future of the WSF and ways forward for global activism. Photographs of the WSF Kenya and India on display.

Films:

WSF March Kenya 2007, (12mins) and Everyday Occurances in Kenya (10mins) (James Whitehead 2007) Footage of the World Social Forum in Nairobi Kenya in January 2007 and events surrounding it.

The World Social Forum - Feminist Perspectives (50 mins) (The Rosa Luxembourg Foundation, 2004): a view of the World Social Forum in Mumbai India in 2004 focusing on female activism and gender issues the film captures many issues and social movements represented at the forum.

Rumble in Mumbai (58mins) (Jawad Metni,2004): over 100,000 people attended World Social Forum held in India in 2004, all looking to build solidarity - and a better world. Featuring interviews with Shirin Ebadi, Jose Bove, and Walden Bello, as well as the eloquent speeches of Arundhati Roy, Mustafe Barghouti, Jeremy Corbyn, and Irene Khan.

Speakers: James O'Nions (Radical Activist Network), Ewa Jasiewicz (UK activist on the People's Parliament in Kenya), Melanie Alfonso (Solidarity Not Charity).

Music: Acoustic music from Hayereyah: Original Roots reggae from Brixton/London, Harmonica and percussion.



Meanwhile, over at The Smoke Rooms, 100 Clapham Park Rd, near Brixton / Clapham Common / Clapham North Station, an acoustic night featuring the splendid pear-contra-mouseball Sarah Loiuse.

Tuesday, 27 March 2007

From "The Iliad"

By Homer.

As when some cruel spite has befallen a man, that he should have killed some one in his own country, and must fly to a great man's protection in a land of strangers, and all marvel who see him, even so did Achilles marvel as he beheld Priam.

The others looked one to another and marvelled also, but Priam besought Achilles saying, "Think of your father, O Achilles like unto the gods, who is such even as I am, on the sad threshold of old age. It may be that those who dwell near him harass him, and there is none to keep war and ruin from him. Yet when he hears of you being still alive, he is glad, and his days are full of hope that he shall see his dear son come home to him from Troy; but I, wretched man that I am, had the bravest in all Troy for my sons, and there is not one of them left. I had fifty sons when the Achaeans came here; nineteen of them were from a single womb, and the others were borne to me by the women of my household. The greater part of them has fierce Mars laid low, and Hector, him who was alone left, him who was the guardian of the city and ourselves, him have you lately slain; therefore I am now come to the ships of the Achaeans to ransom his body from you with a great ransom. Fear, O Achilles, the wrath of heaven; think on your own father and have compassion upon me, who am the more pitiable, for I have steeled myself as no man yet has ever steeled himself before me, and have raised to my lips the hand of him who slew my son."

Thus spoke Priam, and the heart of Achilles yearned as he bethought him of his father. He took the old man's hand and moved him gently away. The two wept bitterly - Priam, as he lay at Achilles' feet, weeping for Hector, and Achilles now for his father and now for Patroclous, till the house was filled with their lamentation.

Sunday, 25 March 2007

Look, No Hands! Iraqi Oil (2/2)

I'm not like saying I could do a better oil and gas law, but.

  • Appendices are thick. The law was written in English and its Arabic translation apparently looks a bit like Sean Bonney's Baudelaire poems.
  • If you didn't like Capitalism slash privatisation slash globalisation, you'll loathe this: for example, foreign companies are only "encouraged" to co-operate with Iraqi companies, and purchase from them "whenever they are competetive" (Article 9). But I gather that the draft law is even underpar for the curse. And here's why.
  • ERCs. And EPCs. They are PSAs in disguise. And PSAs are contracts which disguisedly privatise oil production (see note 1). The relationship between such contracts and the draft oil and gas law is complex, but it has certainly been written with them in mind. PSAs tend to be long-term contracts (25-40 years); even by the time the wee ones were expiring, Iraq's economy would be significantly worse-off than had the state borrowed money, and done the development itself.
  • More realistically, Iraq might allow private investment on comparable terms to other oil-producing Middle Eastern countries: on shorter-term, less restrictive and less lucrative contracts (buyback contracts, risk service contracts, development and production contracts).

  • There would be no Parliamentary scrutiny of revenues (Article 11). Parliament would not approve big contracts (though something called the Federal Oil and Gas Council would; not sure on its constitution) (Article 12).
  • There exist decentralization issues which inform the privatisation issues. Certain distributed arrangements could lead to regions competing with each other to attract foreign investment. This might involve so-called "You give me that hoof or whatever, I give you all this fucking oil" arrangements. Furthermore, resource significantly outstrips expertise in Kurdistan, so a lot of the day-to-day Gaia-butchering there might end up a thoroughly foreign responsibility.
  • Article 35 allows companies unlimited transfer of profits outside of Iraq. (Fair enough: profits aren't exactly safe in Iraq. 10-20% of Iraq's economy is disappearing through corruption. PSA-type contracts produce a short-term rush of investment. This would in part be investment in elaborate networks of crooks).
  • Under Article 41, disputes between the State of Iraq and any foreign investors would be submitted for arbitration to an international court and will not be decided upon by an Iraqi court, on the basis that Iraqi courts should stick to executing Saddam Hussein.
  • Article 99 is your mum's gay.
  • No minimum threshhold would be established for state participation in contracts. Iraq as a whole is lavishly furnished with industry resources and expertise. Many other countries legislate for a minimum level of participation.
  • Health and safety and environmental constraints would be handed over to the oil companies. "[Definition of] Good Oilfield Practices: all those practices related to Petroleum Operations that are generally accepted by the international petroleum industry as good, safe, environmentally friendly, economic and efficient in exploring for and producing Petroleum" (from Article 4). PSAs have generally exempted investors from future legislation that might hurt their profits.

    Note 1: Under a typical PSA, a private company invests in exploration, drilling and infrastructure. The first oil extracted goes to recovering those costs. There's usually a limit on how much oil can count as "cost oil" in any year. Beyond that, revenues are divided between state and company in an arranged proportion. There is usually also tax and there may be royalties. Platform reckons this would lose Iraq loads; and indeed Russia has had to sell off its snow and its history to meet the shortfall from lost oil. Russia was quoted as saying, "I wish I'd never signed all those PSAs." PSAs are suited to conditions in which production costs are high and exploration prospects uncertain. At the moment they're used for about 12% of world oil reserves, concentrated in the smaller and offshore fields. It was a bit mean to make Russia use them and it's a bit mean to make Iraq do so now, as there's almost definitely some oil there. Vould you like buy Commissar Yezhov from vere he strolled vith Stalin by the canal. I giff you good price. Good price.
  • Look, No Hands! Iraqi Oil (1/2)

  • We must act now, ambitiously now, to resist this wickedness! Djew fink is like a bit like "Iraq"-ish? Like you could do it, NOW THE TRUTH COMES OUT. THERE ARE NO WMD IN IRAQ -- BUSH'S WAR IS ABOUT OIL. [...] For the past eight months British and American governments have been reviewing a law which will decide the future of Iraq's "black gold" -- its oil. Now the Iraqi parliament are seeing it for the first time. They have been given just three months to decide whether to pass the law. Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki says he fears the Americans will replace his government if parliament does not pass the law by the end of June.

  • An Early Day Motion has been tabled in the UK Parliament. "EDM 1180: Iraqi Oil Law. That this House notes that Iraq's economy is heavily dependent on oil and that decisions about the future of Iraq's oil industry will have a major bearing on that country; futher notes that the constitution of Iraq states that oil and gas are owned by all the people of Iraq; expresses concern that the British Government, it its involvement in the drafting of Iraq's new oil laws, has sought the views of international oil companies regarding the possible types of contracts that the Iraqi government should offer; believes that decisions on the Iraqi oil industry should be made by the people withat outside interference; and calls on the Government to disclose the House all representations it has made in relation to the oil law." It's mostly scraps of po-faced ectoplasm, but the last sentence makes it worth checking to see if your MP has signed. If it has, why not thank it?
  • Hands Off Iraqi Oil is a coalition consisting of The Bionic Six, Captain Power and the Soldiers of the Future, the Planeteers, War on Want, BraveStarr, and for some reason Brian Jacques who wrote Redwall (a book about mice with swords). There was a meeting yesterday to invent action. Ideas are still being thrown around, but urgently and with force. Involving "yourself" the next few days could result in activism and a sense of its ownership. There were auditions for My Fair Lady in the same building and I'm not 100% sure I was in the right place.
  • The decisive factor is likely to be the Iraqi Federation of Oil Unions. Iraqi oil unionists were involved in the intifada against the Ba'ath regime in 1991. More recent projects have explored the notion of militant strike action to very swiftly persuade their Haliburton-subsidiary employers to start paying salaries after three months sans. They can ride sandworms. The union is still technically illegal (I have a feeling that there is Saddam-era legislation about unions still in effect in Iraq).

  • In Kellogg Brown & Root's defence they had been totally meaning to.

  • I'll post something about the content of the law in a bit.

  • Saturday, 24 March 2007

    Friday, 23 March 2007

    Some recent work by jUStin!katKO.

    F8


    Dead Cat Elegy (failed)

    Thursday, 22 March 2007

    A Note on Precious Bombast

    Adbusters, ats ma best pig, wis chewin on his tail an his vulva, so natrilly Ah suspict, the por-cine-sponji-form-encefallo-pathy, but when Ah lean in fur inspecshun, Adbusters suffered from a rill bad jet of diyareeyah, so I decided ta git a college man ta cyst; Heidy Keston, hire yew, Adbusters, ats ma best pig, is rill sick, what jew make of attair shitspray, in particullar its yeller culler, an its tendency a point everywhichways? The ethical eminence of obnoxiousness is one of the few perks of living through disaster. Ruthless criticism can fit its critic through this loophole, if it pays some attention to the totality of its contexts, and in particular its own dominatation by what is announced and argued in the totality of its critic's social identities and acts. "Dominate" here not in some annihilative sense -- not as the American fundamentalist voter understands the policymaker to be the meaning of the policy -- but in a combinatory sense, more akin to how a catalyst's presence dominates a reaction, or how an initial condition can dominate certain nonlinear dynamical systems. At's ma renderin, as I recall he used farn words like diaperdecathected. Yip Keston, you rill ignernt, Ah seed all that 'ready! Now Ah need jew a hold Adbusters jest rat cheer, while Ah plug him how Ah knows best, yip jest retch in, mushobliged. Now while Ah'm what yew could call "porkin" Adbusters, Adbusters screamed, “These rather Miltonic articulations can be useful in a context of an ideology shake-down, for the following reason at least. It is pretty widely accepted that the vocabularies we inhabit are “ideological”; they channel our perceptions, opinions and acts; but vocabularies are lavish and spine-free and we are hardcore; we always win if we put the effort in; neologisms, jargon and words-that-need-looking-up are ways of mapping out where the effort is most needed (Heidegger was making up words for things we “already” had words for it even when it wasn't widely accepted). Vocab lifted from a fringe (“Obscure as usual, but not too obscure. You want them wondering ‘should I know this?’ while having to look it up. Say, maulana, exordium, oracy” – Tim Morris, “Deuce”) possesses a particular pedagogical acidity when anything natural, universal, common or everyday is being questioned. (It is easy to dismiss such questioning as an old chestnut from which a mighty oak in whose shade we all frig clipart shepherdesses has already grown. But the only thing that is necessarily banal in an account of constructedness is the fact of it; nothing need be decided in advance and the disclosedly constructed may well be worth keeping and using afterwards. I feel sic, I think it was something I gored). I imagine – I am a pig, that’s what we do – that a critic may pick up this habit if he partly relies on comedy to do his critical discourse: a crutch against personal boredom-crush; a bargaining chip with the reader (you will have to work out exactly what I mean because I can’t be bothered, but at the points where you will have to do this I will tell a little joke); a way of coaxing the reader’s mind into the virtuoso modal shifts necessary to cognisise truly brobdingdagian insights.”

    Yip. Ah got a lot of pigs. Tonight, Ah ham infarct gonna find out each unz that there upinion. Y’all retch in. An hold em rat cheer.

    Wednesday, 21 March 2007

    From "Don't Start Me Talking"

    WALKER: Pound, generations ago now, spoke of the need to “break the iambic pentameter.” You seem to have mended it.

    Art Detector

    I have built an Art Detector. Some results were surprising. Like Fountain isn’t. Jonathan Stevenson is implicated in a covert performance piece entitled, “Not Making Art, Doing Like Activism Or Whatever” which has lasted six years. There are off-the-scale readings from art deposits in the abdomen of Josh Robinson. I’m going to lead an expeditionary team. We will be shrunk to a nanometre and injected initially into the gall bladder, who is with me?

    Josh, I'm sorry, not you.

    From an untitled closet drama in Quid 9

    By Chris Goode.

    SOURCES CLOSE TO RICHARD DILLON: Your addition –

    PALAVER MAJORA: My boundary –

    OMNES: Our wavelength. “Aaaah.”

    A LAMB: [Sotto voce] You gastric bitch.

    A FRESHMAN: Shoo.

    THE PRESIDENT: [Adagio for Stings] Y’know, folks, I recently received a touching letter that says a lot about the state of America in these difficult times – a letter from a 4th-grade girl, with a father in the military: “As much as I don’t want my Dad to fight,” she wrote, “I have seen an mpeg of Osama bin Laden [forget]ing a donkey. You can therefore take my father and do whatever the [forget] you like. My whole life is over. I wish I had been blinded by the notorious Islamic dropsy rather that see Osama bin Laden [forget]ing a donkey. I mean, you know, I mean, you know, I mean, you know, I mean, you know, I mean, you know, I mean, you know, I mean, you know. [Forget] it. Whatever.”

    This young folk-girl knows what America is all about. Since September 11, an entire generation of young American folks has gained new understanding of the folk value of freedom, and its cost in duty and sacrifice. Folk in hell, yip. And so, I’m delighted to welcome the puking ghost of Jerry Garcia to introduce our final number.

    THE VOMITING GHOST INDEED OF JERRY LEWIS: […]

    Tuesday, 20 March 2007

    From Wikipedia

    The discussion page, from a couple years ago, of "Articles for deletion/Mezangelle." (The Mezangelle article was renominated for deletion the other day).

    This page is an archive of the discussion about the proposed deletion of the article below. This page is no longer live. Further comments should be made on the article's talk page rather than here so that this page is preserved as an historic record.

    The result of the debate was - no consensus - SimonP 13:41, May 17, 2005 (UTC)

    [...] Its very difficult to make out what this article is saying, but from what I gather its about a language made up by two people through online communication. The rest of the article seems to be trying to define several neologisms related to it. Thryduulf 01:47, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Keep: This article perhaps doesn't make sense to the user voting for deletion because of a lack of context re: net.art. Maybe more work needs to be done on the Net.Art article and surrounding area of internet art / new media to help bring this article into context? - Arcae 03:11, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

      • This users only contributions [1] are to this VfD. Thryduulf 09:27, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

        • Dude, editing other people's votes is unacceptable. And posting comments against other users in a VfD discussion is offtopic and rather rude. Trust the admin to evaluate the votes properly, and talk about the content, not the user.---Isaac R 22:51, 11 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Keep and cleanup. I've never heard of any of this stuff before and I doubt any of you have either, but don't just vote based on that. From what I could tell it's not so much a language but a form of artistic composition. It's definitely not mainstream and never will be, but it's real and just interesting enough to deserve an article. —TeknicTalk/Mail 06:36, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

      • Nevermind, Delete as original research/invention in light of Mez's comment below (sorry Mez, give it some time then let somebody else write the article) —TeknicTalk/Mail 08:44, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

        • Ok, last time, I promise. Keep in light of Mez's new comments. Established artform. —TeknicTalk/Mail 21:18, 13 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Keep: Thryduulf - agreed re: difficulty level of the original article edit [I'm the writer, so hello]. I've made several changes to the 1st draft, including relevant links and cues as to the context of the net.art genre, where mezangelle slots within this, some historical foregrounding, and links to other/potential wikipedia articles. This article is my first wikipedia foray, and is the testing ground for subsequent net.art-based/satellite articles [I'm especially keen to flesh out the article on codework and assume merging several of the articles could be a option]? I also assumed that edits were essentially an integral part of the wikipedia policy, and constructing the article through various rewrites was acceptable, rather than establishing from the get-go a polished, cohesive write. I intend to rewrite aspects of it given the overlap within the intended article-set devoted to the net.art field, with a comprehensive list of citations to accompany it/them [there is a mammoth amount of critical theory surrounding this genre]. If you require current validation of the genre/language/citations listed in the article, please feel free to google relevant terms such as mezangelle, Mary-anne Breeze, netwurker, codework, net.art and judge their historical/educational value? Mez 06:52, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Delete'. 100 hits for Mezangelle "net.art"--doesn't seem to have gained sufficient traction. To compare, invented language Tavo (tavo language) gets 6,000 hits. Niteowlneils 07:33, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Delete. Not notable. Postdlf 09:19, 8 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Delete, not notable, sockpuppet-supported. Andrew Lenahan - Starblind 13:04, May 8, 2005 (UTC)

    • Keep: Please reconsider the article and your votes. I rewrote it to match Wikipedia's style and editorial policy. It should now be better understandable to a general readership. This is a useful entry that explains an important, recognized part of codework and Internet art. If the article will stay, the articles on codework and Portmanteau words should link to it. Cantsin, 14:51, May 8, 2005 (UTC)

      • User's 19th edit, and only the second edit since July of 2004 (the first being to the nominated article itself).[2]

    • Delete, non-notable vanity conlang. —Korath (Talk) 00:21, May 9, 2005 (UTC)

    • Deletishago. I better start an article to translate my vote. Gotta go. hydnjo talk 00:41, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Keep, Pertinent to the article about net.art, also ties into visual poetry, codework and really the article is most interesting as documentation and example of a style of artistic technique. I don't understand why others in this thread are equating Mez's work with code poetry with a conlang. If one took a few minutes to read some of her work, the connections to conlang are almost non-existent. —Memexikon

      • User has no edits before this VFD was made. —TeknicTalk/Mail 05:17, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

        • Do not edit other users comments. See above.

      • Not true. I've been adding small edits to a few entries for some time now. Did just create an account, however if that's what you meant to say.

    • Keep, Obscurity is not a valid reason for deletion; consider a bird-watching guide with only the most common birds listed. I am an independent researcher at Indiana University and have been studying Mezangelle as a legitimate artistic style in the context of network formation. The style is referenced by multiple users across several locations in blogs and discussion boards and has the valuable qualities of distinctive form, unique name, and traceable dissemination across multiple internet locations. Unique, small, distinctive, labeled artistic styles have the benefit of allowing easy mapping of known (i.e. searchable in Google) links. Mapping searchable references to unique words is an effective tool for studying the dissemination of knowledge through the Internet and has value to research. Mezangelle is a genuine style used by multiple parties over a considerable period of time. Please leave the entry as a key means of communicating the definition of mezangelle to other researchers. 68.22.241.118 08:43, 9 May 2005 (UTC)John Burgoon

      • User's first edit. Thryduulf 11:29, 9 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Kill the socks delete Radiant_* 12:11, May 9, 2005 (UTC)

    • Delete all articles that give me a headache from excessive use of jargon I mean, no original research, and we are not here to serve as a forum for communicating with whatever other researchers might actually exist. Soundguy99 02:02, 10 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Delete, never heard of it. They can't all be Verdurian . . . Wiwaxia 04:19, 10 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Keep. It's pretentious crap, but a lot of people take it seriously. Which is a good description of most of what gets called "Art" these days. If a form of expression has a big following, then it rates an article, no matter how stupid you think it is. ---Isaac R 22:45, 11 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Delete. Original research, not notable, sockpuppet supported. Jayjg (talk) 21:25, 12 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Delete - original research - Tεxτurε 21:45, 12 May 2005 (UTC)

      • Comment: Again, mez here, the initial writer of the article under question. I'm resisting responding to any relevant comments or votes that do not adhere to officially stated Wikipedia Policy e.g. please do not bite the newcomers, wikiquette, no personal attacks, and civility. I'm also unkeen to respond to opinions or comments that aren't stated as recognised policy, such as referring to the content of the article as "not notable" or those votes based on material that could be considered spurious, speculative, or unsubstantiated eg "sock-puppet supported". I'm assuming those votes/actions/opinions that trangress those policies will be automatically discounted in the admin's final appraisal. What I am keen to address, however, is those comments and votes that do correspond to offical wikipedia policy and manage to successfully address the article without flippancy, sarcasm, or personal attacks. One of these comments/reasons is "original research", which is listed as a reason to support deletion votes. I'd like to suggest a reassessment of all votes based on this after considering the following information, which includes citations of relevant articles from 2003-2005 that list [at minimum] one peer-based review journal. I've also listed selected publications from this 2 year period [rather than a more comprehensive list from the decade preceding this] that have analysed or included mezangelle projects or exhibitions. The citations are not APA formatted, and include one of three New York Times articles involving mezangelle. Based on the citation-checking behaviour of the editors involved, I'm citing this evidence here for ease-of-access as it appears that they have not examined this material previous to voting:

      • Source texts used and analysis of mezangelle in The Writing Experiment: strategies for innovative creative writing by Hazel Smith, Allen & Unwin, March 2005 ISBN: 1741140153.

      • Mezangelle analysed by Stephanie Strickland in First Person New Media as Story, Performance, and Game. Noah Wardrip-Fruin and Pat Harrigan (Eds.) January 2004.

      • "Inappropriate Format][ing][: Craft-Orientation vs. Networked Content[s"] in the Journal of Digital Information, Volume 3 Issue 3 Hypertext Criticism: Writing about Hypertext.

      • Mezangelled Texts in _the >wartime< project_ which press included the following: Cornwall24, UK, January 22nd 2003. Graziarosa Villani, L'espresso, Italia, January 25th 2003. Tiscale Art, Italia, January 28th 2003. CTarkus, Tijuana Indymedia, México, February 1st 2003. R. Bosco / S. Caldana, CyberP@is, El Pais, Espagne, January 30th 2003. Matthew Mirapaul, New York Times, US, February 3rd 2003. der Standard, Österreich, February 3rd 2003. Graziarosa Villani, Liberazione, Italia, February 15th 2003. Antonio Riello, Dolce & Gabbana (art & web), Italia, February 2003. Euia, Espagne, February 2003. Repeat, Star Tribune, Minneapolis, US, February 9th 2003. Corriere della Sera, Italia, Febuary 14th 2003. TAZ, Berlin, Deutschland, February 18th 2003. Centre International d'Art Contemporian De Montréal, CA, March 2003. kopenhagen.DK, March 19th 2003. Liberation FR, March 29th 2003. Neural.it, June 29th 2003.

      • Mezangelle described/analysed in "Interferences: (Net.Writing) and the Practice of Codework" by Rita Raley in the Electronic Book Review.

      • The Language system mezangelle and mez works discussed in Culture Machine, "Deeper Into the Machine: The Future of Electronic Literature" by Katherine Hayles, Edition 5, 2003. Also in the Electronic Literature Organisation"State of the Arts" Symposium 2002 Book.Mez 15:18, 13 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Delete. Gibberish. While we're at it, someone should do a VFD on mez as equally non-notable vanity. --Jeffrey O. Gustafson 23:47, 12 May 2005 (UTC)

    • Comment. If this article were actually expanded to provide information to the reader on the subject, rather than just pointing a bunch of links to other places, it might be interesting. As it is, there's not much content there now, and ought to be deleted if not improved. Whig 06:37, 13 May 2005 (UTC)
    • Keep. Mez is thoughtful and creative. Mezangelle is poetic, unsettling, intriguing, and thought-provoking ... as the cited documentation reveals. I am not impressed by critics who seem like mere Yahoos, unable to make a coherent argument. I think Wikipedia should be open to creative investigations ... such as Mezangelle. Don't we have enough stifling institutions and processes in the world as it is? --[[User:Séamas Cain131.212.109.27 15:57, 13 May 2005 (UTC)Séamas Cain]] [3]

    • Keep. Not my cup of tea, but might stimulate organic (cyborganic?) growth of related articles. FreplySpang (talk) 16:28, 13 May 2005 (UTC)
    This page is now preserved as an archive of the debate and, like some other VfD subpages, is no longer 'live'. Subsequent comments on the issue, the deletion, or the decision-making process should be placed on the relevant 'live' pages. Please do not edit this page.

    From "Sperm Collection and Processing Methods"

    Ed. Rajasingham S. Jeyendran.

    Several different procurement methods have been described, incuding transpelvic seminal-vesiculectomy, simple vasectomy, TFNA, PESA, orchiectomy, and electroejaculation.

    So long as electroejaculation of the deceased is considered morally acceptable and ethically sound, the procedure itself, from a scientific point of view, has proven practical and highly effective.

    The postmortem sperm procurement procedure

  • Prep scrotal skin.
  • Expose both testes and spermatic cords with a median raphe incision.
  • Remove testes along with an extended length of vas deferens.
  • Transfer testes and vas deferens in media (see Media and protein supplementation, page 112) to the laboratory for processing.

    Note: Specimen must be collected within 24 h of death.
  • Monday, 19 March 2007

    From "Don't Start Me Talking"

    Chocolate Sauce. Why the title?

    CHALONER: It was very much because at the time, I loved chocolate sauce.

    An Object

    By Ezra Pound.

    This thing, that hath a code and not a core,
    Hath set acquaintance where might be affections,
    And nothing new
    Disturbeth his reflections.

    From "Don't Start Me Talking"

    I don’t think it says who is poisoning who.

    From the Interzone

    By William Burroughs. (I think this is from Naked Lunch but I could be wrong).

    DE is a way of doing. It is a way of doing everything you do. DE simply means doing whatever you do in the easiest most relaxed way you can manage which is also the quickest and most efficient way, as you will find as you advance in DE.

    You can start right now tidying up your flat, moving furniture or books, washing dishes, making tea, sorting papers. Consider the weight of objects exactly how much force is needed to get the object from here to there. Consider its shape and texture and function where exactly does it belong. Use just the amount of force necessary to get the object from here to there. Don't fumble, jerk, grab an object. Drop cool possessive fingers onto it like a gentle old cop making a soft arrest. Guide the dustpan lightly to the floor as if you were landing a plane. When you touch an object weigh it with your fingers, feel your fingers on the object, the skin, blood, muscles, tendons of you hand and arm. Consider these extensions of yourself as precision instruments to perform every movement smoothly and well. Handle objects with consideration and they will show you all their little tricks. Don't tug or pull at a zipper. Guide the little metal teeth smoothly along feeling the sinuous ripples of cloth and flexible metal. Replacing the cap on a tube of toothpaste... (and this should always be done at once. Few things are worse than and uncapped tube, maladroitly squeezed, twisting up out of the bathroom glass drooling paste, unless it be a tube with the cap barbarously forced on all askew against the threads). Replacing the cap let the very tips of your fingers protrude beyond the cap contacting the end of the tube guiding the cap into place. Using your fingertips as a landing gear will enable you to drop any light object silently and surely into its place. Remember every object has its place. If you dont find that place and put that thing there it will jump out at you and trip you or rap you painfully across the knuckles. It will nudge you and clutch at you and get in your way. Often such objects belong in the wastebasket but often its just that they are out of place. Learn to place an object firmly and quietly in its place and do not let your fingers move that object as they leave it there. When you put down a cup separate your fingers cleanly from the cup. Do not let them catch in the handle and if they do repeat the movement until fingers separate clean. If you dont catch that nervous finger that won't let go of that handle you may twitch hot tea across the Duchess. Never let a poorly executed sequence pass. If you throw a match at a wastebasket and miss, get right up and put that match in the wastebasket. If you have time repeat the cast that failed. There is a always a reason for missing an easy toss. Repeat the toss and you will find it. If you rap your knuckles against a window jamb or door. If you brush your leg against a desk or a bed, if you catch your feet in the curled-up corner of a rug, or strike a toe against a desk or chair go back and repeat the sequence. You will be surprised to find how far off course you were to hit that window jamb, that door, that chair. Get back on course and do it again. How can you pilot a spacecraft if you can't find your way around your own apartment? It's just like retaking a movie shot until you get it right. And you will begin to feel yourself in a film moving with ease and speed. But don't try for speed at first. Try for relaxed smoothness taking as much time as you need to perform an action. If you drop an object, break and object, spill anything, knock painfully against anything, galvanically clutch an object, pay particular attention to the retake. You may find out why and forestall a repeat performance. If the object is broken sweep up the pieces and remove them from the room at once. If the object is intact or you have a duplicate object repeat sequence. You may experience a strange feeling as if the objects are alive and hostile trying to twist out of your fingers, slam noisily down on a table, jump out at you and stub your toe or trip you. Repeat sequence until objects are brought to order.

    Here is student at work. At two feet he tosses red plastic milk cap at the orange garbage bucket. The cap sails over the bucket like a flying saucer. He tries again. Same result. He examines the cap and finds that one edge is crushed down. He pries the edge back into place. Now the cap will drop obediently into the bucket. Every object you touch is alive with your life and your will.

    The student tosses cigarette box at wastebasket and it bounces out from the cardboard cover from a metal coat hanger, which is resting diagonally across the wastebasket and never should be there at all. If an ashtray is emptied into that wastebasket the cardboard triangle will split the ashes and the butts scattering both on the floor. Student takes a box of matches from his coat pocket preparatory to lighting cigarette from new package on table. With the matches in one hand he makes another toss and misses of course his fingers are in future time lighting cigarette. He retrieves package puts the matches down and now stopping slightly legs bent hop skip over the washstand and into the wastebasket, miracle of the Zen master who hits a target in the dark these little miracles will occur more an more often as you advance in DE... the ball of paper tossed over the shoulder into the wastebasket, the blanket flipped and settled just into place that seems to fold itself under the brown satin fingers of an old Persian merchant. Objects move into place at your lightest touch. You slip into it like a film moving with such ease you hardly know you are doing it. You'd come into the kitchen expecting to find a sink full of dirty dishes and instead every dish is put away and the kitchen shines. The Little People have been there and done your work fingers light and cold as spring wind through the rooms.

    The student considers heavy objects. Tape recorder on the desk taking up too much space and he doesnt use it very often. So put it under the washstand. Weigh it with the hands. First attempt the cord and socket leaps across the desk like a frightened snake. He bumps his back on the washstand putting the recorder under it. Try again lift with legs not back. He hits the lamp. He looks at that lamp. It is a horrible disjointed object the joints tightened with cellophane tape disconnected when not in use the cord leaps out and wraps around his feet sometimes jerking the lamp off the desk. Remove that lamp from the room and buy a new one. Now try again lifting shifting pivoting dropping on the legs just so and right under the washstand.

    You will discover clumsy things you've been doing for years until you think that is just the way things are. Here is an American student who for years has clawed at the red plastic cap on English milk bottle you see American caps have a little tab and he has been looking for that old tab all these years. Then one day in a friend's kitchen he saw a cap depressed at the center. Next morning he tries it and the miracle occurs. Just the right pressure in the center and he lifts the cap off with deft fingers and replaces it. He does this several times in wonder and in awe and ell he might him a college professor and very technical too planarian worms learn quicker than that for years he has been putting on his socks after he puts on his pants so he has to roll up pants and pants and socks get clawed in together so why not put on the socks before the pants? He is learning the simple miracles ... The Miracle of the Washstand Glass... we all know the glass there on a rusty razor blade streaked with pink tooth paste a decapitated tube writhing up out of it... quick fingers go to work and Glass sparkles like the Holy Grail in the morning sunlight. Now he does the wallet drill. For years he has carried his money in the left side pocket of his pants reaching down to fish out eh naked money... bumping his fingers against the sharp edges of the notes. Often the notes were in two stacks and puling out the one could drop the other on the floor. The left side pocket of the pants is most difficult to pick but worse things can happen than a picked pocket one can dine out on that for a season. Two manicured fingers sliding into the well-cut suit wafted into the waiting hand and engraved message from the Queen. Surely this is the easy way. Besides no student of DE would have his pocket picked applying DE in the street, picking his route through slower walkers, dont get stuck behind that baby carriage, careful when you round a corner dont bump into somebody coming round the other way. He takes the wallet out in front a mirror, removes notes, counts notes, replaces notes. As rapidly as he can with no fumbling, catching note edges on wallet, or other errors. That is a basic principle which must be repeated. When speed is crucial to the operation you must find your speed the fastest you can perform the operation with out error. Don't try for speed at first it will come his fingers will rustle through the wallet with a touch light as dead leaves and crinkle discreetly the note that will bribe a South American customs official into overlooking a shrunken down head. The customs agent smiles a collector's smile the smile of a connoisseur. Such a crinkle he has not heard since a French jewel thief with crudely forged papers made a crinkling sound over them with his hands and there is the note neatly folded into a false passport.

    Now some one will say... But if I have to think about every move I make ...You only have to think and break down movement into a series of still pictures to be studied and corrected because you have not found the easy way. Once you find the easy way you dont have to think about it will almost do itself.

    Operations performed on your person... brushing teeth, washing, etc. can lead you to correct a defect before it develops. Here is student with a light case of bleeding gums. His dentist has instructed him to massage gums by placing little splinters of wood called Inter Dens between the teeth and massaging gum with seesaw motion. He snatches at Inter Dens, opens his mouth in a stiff grimace and jabs at a gum with a shaking hand. Now he remembers his DE. Start over. Take out eh little splinters of wood like small chopsticks joined at the base and separate them gently. Now find where the bleeding is. Relax face and move Inter Dens up and down gently firmly gums relaxed direct your attention to that spot. No not getting better and better just let the attention of your whole body and all the healing power of your body flow with it. A soapy hand on your lower back feeling the muscles and vertebrae can catch a dislocation right there and save you a visit to the osteopath. Illness and disability is largely a matter of neglect. You ignore something because it is painful and it becomes more uncomfortable through neglect and you neglect it further. Everyday tasks become painful and boring because you think of them as WORK something solid and heavy to be fumbled and stumbled over. Overcome this block and you will find that DE can be applied to anything you do even to the final discipline of doing nothing. The easier you do it the less you have to do. He who has learned to do nothing with his whole mind and body will have everything done for him.

    Let us now apply DE to a simple test: the old Western quick draw gunfight. Only one gun fighter ever really grasped the concept of DE and that was Wyatt Earp. Nobody ever beat him. Wyatt Earp said: It's not the first shot that counts. It's the first shot that hits. Point is to draw aim and fire and deliver the slug an inch above the belt buckle.

    That's DE. How fast can you do it and get it done?

    From "Pores 4"

    [...] for example when I did the eraofheroes performance at the Bookartbookshop in 2003 I specifically made a text that would be suitable for the space and technologies available to me at the event. I decided that I was going to walk around the area wearing a portable microphone and headset that would transmit my voice into the shop from wherever I was. The audience had to choose to listen to the text from within the shop or to follow me outside on the street.

    Charge of the Light Brigade



    Half a league, half a league,
    Half a league onward,
    All in the valley of Death
    Rode the six hundred.
    'Forward the Light Brigade!
    Charge for the guns!' he said:
    Into the valley of Death
    Rode the six hundred.

    'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
    Was there a man dismayed?
    Not though the soldier knew
    Some one had blundered:
    Theirs not to make reply,
    Theirs not to reason why,
    Theirs but to do and die:
    Into the valley of Death
    Rode the six hundred.

    Cannon to right of them,
    Cannon to left of them
    Cannon in front of them
    Volleyed and thundered;
    Stormed at with shot and shell,
    Boldly they rode and well,
    Into the jaws of Death,
    Into the mouth of Hell
    Rode the six hundred.

    Flashed all their sabres bare,
    Flashed as they turned in air
    Sabring the gunners there,
    Charging an army, while
    All the world wondered:
    Plunged in the battery-smoke
    Right through the line they broke;
    Cossack and Russian
    Reeled from the sabre-stroke
    Shattered and sundered.
    Then they rode back, but not
    Not the six hundred.

    Cannon to right of them,
    Cannon to left of them,
    Cannon behind them
    Volleyed and thundered;
    Stormed at with shot and shell,
    While horse and hero fell,
    They that had fought so well
    Came through the jaws of Death,
    Back from the mouth of Hell,
    All that was left of them,
    Left of six hundred.

    When can their glory fade?
    O the wild charge they made!
    All the world wondered.
    Honour the charge they made!
    Honour the Light Brigade,
    Noble six hundred!

    Recorded in 1890ish on wax.

    Job

    Just noticed Platform are looking for an office monkey three days a week. It would be an interesting place to work even in a boring role.

    "Hands Off Iraqi Oil" Teach-In

  • Greg Muttitt from PLATFORM (author of Crude Designs: The rip-off of Iraq's oil wealth)
  • Ewa Jasiewicz from Naftana (UK Support Committee for the General Union of Oil Employees)


  • "A new law that would transfer control of most of Iraq's oil production from the public sector to multinational oil companies through long-termcontracts of up to 20 or 30 years, now looks set to be rubber-stamped by Iraq's Parliament in the next few months. Whilst the US and British governments, the IMF and the big multinational oil companies have all been active in shaping the new law - which will tie the hands of future governments, depriving them of democratic control over the country's main natural resource - the Iraqi public and Iraqi civil society have been excluded from the process. Join us on 24th March to:

  • find out more about the new law, the companies involved, and the US and UK Governments' roles in this smash and grab law; and
  • make plans to take action to stop British companies from joining the race to carve up Iraq's oil wealth.


  • For more information about the campaign visit www.HandsOffIraqiOil.org."

    11am-5pm,
    Saturday 24 March 2007
    Union Chapel,
    Compton Ave,
    London N1 2XD

    Tube: Highbury and Islington
    Map

    Supported by: Corporate Watch, Iraq Occupation Focus, Jubilee Iraq, Naftana, Platform, Voices UK and War on Want.

    Sunday, 18 March 2007

    From "Mansfield Park"

    By Jane Austen.

    They did begin—and being too much engaged in their own noise, to be struck by an unusual noise in the other part of the house, had proceeded some way, when the door of the room was thrown open, and Julia appearing at it, with a face all aghast, exclaimed, "My father is come! He is in the hall at this moment."

    End of Volume I.

    Volume II, Chapter I.

    How is the consternation of the party to be described? To the greater number it was a moment of absolute horror. Sir Thomas in the house! All felt the instantaneous conviction. Not a hope of imposition or mistake was harboured any where. Julia's looks were an evidence of the fact that made it indisputable; and after the first starts and exclamations, not a word was spoken for half a minute; each with an altered countenance was looking at some other, and almost each was feeling it a stroke the most unwelcome, most ill-timed, most appalling! Mr. Yates might consider it only as a vexatious interruption for the evening, and Mr. Rushworth might imagine it a blessing, but every other heart was sinking under some degree of self-condemnation or undefined alarm, every other heart was suggesting, "What will become of us? what is to be done now?" It was a terrible pause; and terrible to every ear were the corroborating sounds of opening doors and passing footsteps.

    Julia was the first to move and speak again. Jealousy and bitterness had been suspended; selfishness was lost in the common cause; but at the moment of her appearance, Frederick was listening with looks of devotion to Agatha's narrative, and pressing her hand to his heart, and as soon as she could notice this, and see that, in spite of the shock of her words, he still kept his station and retained her sister's hand, her wounded heart swelled again with injury, and looking as red as she had been white before, she turned out of the room, saying, "I need not be afraid of appearing before him."

    Her going roused the rest; and at the same moment, the two brothers stepped forward, feeling the necessity of doing something. A very few words between them were sufficient. The case admitted no difference of opinion; they must go to the drawing-room directly. Maria joined them with the same intent, just then the stoutest of the three; for the very circumstance which had driven Julia away, was to her the sweetest support. Henry Crawford's retaining her hand at such a moment, a moment of such peculiar proof and importance, was worth ages of doubt and anxiety. She hailed it as an earnest of the most serious determination, and was equal even to encounter her father. They walked off, utterly heedless of Mr. Rushworth's repeated question of, "Shall I go too?—Had not I better go too?—Will not it be right for me to go too?" but they were no sooner through the door than Henry Crawford undertook to answer the anxious inquiry, and encouraging him by all means to pay his respects to Sir Thomas without delay, sent him after the others with delighted haste.

    Abstract

    A possible source for Horace's Odes I.2. Thermonuclear analysis of Quid 9 and Eyes Monthly 1 suggests Game, Paul and The Dude had access to "Q", now lost.

  • Tim Atkins ("he treats objects like women")
  • Jérôme Game ("this aggression will not stand, man")
  • Chris Paul ("and I hate The fucking Eagles")

  • From Joyce's Notebooks

    in O'Connell St:
    [Dublin: /\ in Hamilton Long’s,
    the chemist's,]

    Gogarty—Is that for Gogarty?
    The Assistant—(looks)—Yes, sir. . .Will you take it with you? pay for it now?
    Gogarty—No, send it put it in the account; send it on. You know the address.
    (takes a pen)
    The Assistant— Yes Ye—es.
    Gogarty—5 Rutland Square.
    The Assistant—(half to himself as while he writes) . . 5. . .Rutland. . .Square.

    From "Trivia; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London"

    By John Gay.

    If cloath'd in Black, you tread the busy Town,
    Or if distinguish'd by the rev'rend Gown,
    Three Trades avoid; oft' in the mingling Press,
    The Barber's Apron soils the sable Dress;
    Shun the Perfumer's Touch with cautious Eye,
    Nor let the Baker's Step advance too nigh:

    Saturday, 17 March 2007

    From "Don't Start Me Talking"

    [...] I wouldn't go beyond that to speculate whether there's some kind of implied critique of either of the two books mentioned, or of the two poems chosen. In a way I regretted that the James poem wasn't a bit longer.

    DUNCAN: How careless of him.

    CROZIER: How careless of him. He didn't know what it was going to be used for. I suppose that rather than any implication of critique, it's more a matter of engaging on a line by line basis with poems by people whom I regarded as friends and colleagues.

    From "Don't Start Me Talking"

    Ed. Tim Allen & Andrew Duncan.

    [...] I read Merleau-Ponty. I was very interested in him. What I did was the obvious thing to do. I found out what poets I was reading liked, I mean, what they read. That's the obvious thing to do, isn't it? Don't you think?

    DUNCAN: I never did that, but, now you mention it, yes, it's brilliant.

    CORCORAN: Well, I don't know. It's the obvious thing to do.

    Friday, 16 March 2007

    Thursday, 15 March 2007

    A Note on "Last Things" (2/3)

    précis
    (by Andrew Motion)

    everybody even me is getting pussy except me

    Justin Crot&co has been experimenting in “Dog Puke” with filleting tidy contemporary English lyrics, on the basis that many possess about one obviously good idea or bit. It hasn’t been going well; in particular the Movement Moneyshot – which I'm 90% sure is indebted but not enough to the Joycean epiphany and to the moment when a Metaphysical's poem’s conceit, having moved from suggestive to ridiculous, synthesises them – refuses to coagulate properly without a gruelling pornographic build-up of scene and subjectivity. That they disintegrate at a touch is part of the point of these poems, and they do it with pride, flowing their fertiliser into the myth of the poem as a hubbub of the inevitable and its poetry as that which is lost in translation. “Spring Wedding” could be improved by losing the first octet; it profits what happens next somewhat but not enough to excuse it; and the “trust me because I have cogivegetated deeply on this” sentiment exceeds the possibilities inherent in poet-reader relations (certainly in this size of text) whilst spreading malicious lies about those relations.



    A. Motion
    Last Things

    I locked the door & went for – nothing much,
    just supermarket stuff, the usual –
    but felt at once how things I’d left behind
    rejoiced to see me go, & be themselves:
    a book sprang open, riffled, then explained
    the reasons it preferred life off the shelf,
    a knife-blade shivered at a fork’s cold touch,
    two cushions reddened on each other’s swell.
    And in the bedroom, tweaking from the bed
    to make a taut, free-floating trampoline,
    the sheet rose up & hovered in mid-air,
    so everything about me that was dead
    already – hair, & flakes of withered skin –
    could bounce, & dance, until I reappear.



    Andrew Motion, GOING TO TESCO’S

    KNIFE SHIVERED @ FORX CLAMMY TOUCH
    2 CUSHIONS REDDENED ON EACHOTHERSSWELLL++++
    A book sprang open, riffled, then explained
    the reasons it preferred life off the shelf;
    IN THA BEDROOM, TWEAKIN FROM THA BED
    TO MAKE A TAUT FREE-FLOATIN TRAMPOLINE,
    THA SHEAT ROSE UP + HOVERED IN MIDDAIR,
    SO EVERYTHIN ABOUT ME THAT WAS DEAD
    ALREADY, HAIRS, NAIL, FLAKES OF WITHERED SKIN
    COULD BOUNCE,
    & DANCE,
    UNTIL I CAME AGEN



    I locked my door and went for nothing much –
    Just supermarket stuff, the usual –



    But felt at once how things I’d left behind
    Rejoiced to see me go, and be be themselves:
    A knife-blade shivered at a fork’s cold touch
    Two cushions reddened on each other’s swell
    A book sprang open, riffled, then explained
    The reasons it preferred life off the shelf.



    And in the bedroom, tweaking from the bed
    To make a taut, free-floating trampoline,
    The sheet rose up and hovered in mid-air,
    So everything about me that was dead
    Already – hair, and flakes of withered skin
    Could bounce, and dance, until I reappear.




    Last Thing
    by Andrew Motion

    for Frances Kruk

    was I locked the
    door and sprang open, riffled,
    a preferred life, off the shelf.
    I locked the door
    and in the bedroom, supermarket of withered skin,

    a book hair, a fork
    could stuff me
    could stuff, mid-air,
    reappear. taut, free-floating taut, free-floating once how dead
    already – hair, and flakes

    a book hair, and flakes tweaking from them-
    selves: & dance, so bounce,
    until I book sprang about me
    and I hovered at mid-air.
    the reasons it to me go,
    each other’s knife-blade open, riffled, and then I’d left shivered at a
    things I’d left dead, touch
    flakes cold hair



    Love Poem

    Sophie asked, astral?
    & I hardly had the hard to tell her it was ass drool · quit
    mothering me murmured misheard as
    quit othering me, this for a moth
    clipping
    the limerence aura about your lips ·

    it emitting in once
    all relationships rainbow tints
    bear one another, I feel so stupid,

    by loopholes my motes
    retain sensation long after they have floated out of my skin; spurs, wisps;
    & in some afar shadow a daddy long legs
    is groping me to orgasm; I meant to say,

    as I nod enraptured on your tedium & scum
    my ambient prick nods & is how I have the lost laugh.
    suck it. God, suck it. chin kneads wisp spurs. law
    laughed it along with me like the singer-songwriter’s lover,
    Mary Bruton, Sarah-Louise MacDonald,
    law I read today has broken its long silence,
    “fuck you too, niggas with attitude.”
    my blood is even drearier without my arm,

    -- a.m.



    Last Things
    by Andrew Motion

    I locked my door & went for – nothing much,
    just supermarket stuff, the usual –
    but felt at once how things I’d left behind
    rejoiced to see me go, & be themselves:
    a book sprang open, riffled, then explained
    the reasons it preferred life off the shelf,
    a knife-blade EGG LEG EGG LEG EGG LEG EGG LEG
    EGG LEG EGG LEG EGG LEG EGG LEG LEG EGG LEG LEG
    shivered at a fork’s cold touch,
    two cushions reddened on each other’s swell.

    And in the bedroom, tweaking from the bed
    to make a taut, free-floating trampoline,
    the sheet rose up & hovered in mid-air,
    so everything about me that was dead
    already – hair, & flakes of withered skin –
    could bounce, & dance, until I reappear.

    A Note on "Last Things" (1/3)

    Last Things

    I locked my door and went for nothing much –
    Just supermarket stuff, the usual –
    But felt at once how things I’d left behind
    Rejoiced to see me go, and be themselves:
    A knife-blade shivered at a fork’s cold touch
    Two cushions reddened on each other’s swell
    A book sprang open, riffled, then explained
    The reasons it preferred life off the shelf.
    And in the bedroom, tweaking from the bed
    To make a taut, free-floating trampoline,
    The sheet rose up and hovered in mid-air,
    So everything about me that was dead
    Already – hair, and flakes of withered skin –
    Could bounce, and dance, until I reappear.

    Andrew Motion published this in Poetry Review (Summer 2006) presumably hoping for some advice on how to finish it. Nobody’s said anything that I know of (despite gallant manoeuvres by the likes of On Company Time, this blog, this exhausted angel, Fanatique, Terrible Work and Readings, the appraisals which pre-exist our writing of them are all evensong-infected sleep-aid nature-sound and nobody knows why). So I’ll have a go this evening. What it really needs is a poet with an ear. Here's Peter Manson (photo (c) Tom Raworth) reading at Soundeye in Cork (July 2006):


    If bleeding recurs, raise your arm and press on the donation site for at least 5 minutes.

    Wednesday, 14 March 2007

    An Open Letter to Robin Crowley

    Hi

    Here you go

    [IEB Env IK 14March07.doc]

    The new style uses left-justified, arial black body text. We're in a kind of funny transitional phase of doing some in the old style and some in the new, and a few hybrids. Ian wasn't able to send me a main report for comparison, so I've just put it full-justified as he asked. Let me know if you want any further formatting done.

    Cheers
    Joe

    Tuesday, 13 March 2007

    Tomfoolery

    Caller and Other Pieces is from Edge. COP's "Envoi" is to "Last Words" by Peter Porter. One thing you get when you search for "Motion" on The Poetry Archive is Tom reading "All Fours."

    Spring Wedding

    By Andrew Motion.

    I took your news outdoors, and strolled a while
    In silence on my square of garden-ground
    Where I could dim the roar of arguments,
    Ignore the scandal-flywheel whirring round,
    And hear instead the green fuse in the flower
    Ignite, the breeze stretch out a shadow-hand
    To ruffle blossom on its sticking points,
    The blackbirds sing, and singing take their stand.
    I took your news outdoors, and found the Spring
    Had honored all its promises to start
    Disclosing how the principles of earth
    Can make a common purpose with the heart.
    The heart which slips and sidles like a stream
    Weighed down by winter-wreckage near its source -
    But given time, and come the clearing rain,
    Breaks loose to revel in its proper course.

    Coda

    By Tom Raworth.

    If I could take my tongue out of your arse
    (Though drag me as a train down aisles you tread)
    The tiny Royal turd upon my tongue
    Would quiver as my heart that you are wed.

    From "Caller"

    By Tom Raworth.

    all greens
    a spark of human cost
    those went so strangely

    memory reshuffling
    toned mortar
    play in coiled dark

    in shadow shadows
    media cycle manicures

    cream flakes
    from leaden cows
    hits wear formal horizons

    toward prior to delivery
    citation’s absurd

    borrowed complete shock
    extend instructional assist

    sleepers open
    state of siege
    rebels tended to frown

    menace without epiphanies
    malice placid reach

    have tenth reservoirs
    cutback tax cuts
    not shared sharply

    condition paused
    above space
    of unknown provenance

    adequate strudels
    separately dressed
    affect marble

    tripwire recalls
    mist tinged orange
    from left wall to right

    a marketed skillet
    blitzed stocking
    cat on diesel

    full print to work
    perfume preposterous name
    nuisance

    velveeta cheese modelled
    clings to guide
    as per quartet

    restripe the lot
    emphases became effective fund

    dwindle animate slides
    torqued into gouge designs bone

    entrepreneurial tunnel
    dash tricks right
    fitted

    head too funny
    turned endless cordite
    tattoo lightning

    ideological rules
    mandate measure
    mistakes

    clog robot
    bladder waves discharge
    a distilled spinach

    paramilitary wreckage
    arks one musical

    fierce turn crucial
    shift forgiveness
    you jolt that table

    Acoustic Night

    Sarah-Louise & three other acoustic acts at the BlagClub, Notting Hill, Wednesday 14 March. Here's what Eugene has to say about Sarah-Louise's last gig:

    Eugene: (moaning and crying continues)
    Officer Monday: Look here, Eugene, your fucking TV’s gone too. Your fucking dope dealing days are over.
    Eugene: They were stealing from us . . .
    Officer Monday: You understand? Your fucking dope dealing days are over.
    Eugene: (pleading) They were stealing from us.
    Officer Webber: You can’t do nothing for me.
    Eugene: Yeah I can.
    Officer Webber: No you can’t. You’re a convicted felon. You can’t do nothing for me.
    Eugene: If you knowed all these people, you would trip out.

    See you there!

    Monday, 12 March 2007

    "Active Slaughter (anarcho punk)
    Headjam (dub metal punk)
    David Cronenberg's wife (bit like The Fall )
    Monkish (77 punk sound)
    12 Volt Vandals
    + DJs.

    Kaos Kabaret Room: Vic Lambrusco (BBC, The Hard Edge), Johny Fluffypunk (Stand-up identity crisis), Whatsename (Kitchen-sink drama-queen ), Becky Fury + vegan cafe from Commutiny Gardeners.

    Friday 16th March, 8 pm till 3 am, Damacolat House, Ben Jonson Rd, Stepney Green. Entrance £3-5 (benefits good stuff). Buses 309, 339, nearest tube Stepney Green. Night buses N25, N76, N15."

    Was going to be at the exVort. Somehow related to Reclaim the Future IV.

    Sunday, 11 March 2007

    BBC's claiming this is your Briton's least-finished fiction:

    1 · Vernon God Little · DBC Pierre
    2 · Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire · JK Rowling
    3 · Ulysses · James Joyce
    4 · Captain Corelli's Mandolin · Louis De Bernieres
    5 · Cloud Atlas · David Mitchell
    6 · The Satanic Verses · Salman Rushdie
    7 · The Alchemist · Paulo Coelho
    8 · War and Peace · Leo Tolstoy
    9 · The God of Small Things · Arundhati Roy
    10 · Crime and Punishment · Fyodor Dostoevsky

    Saturday, 10 March 2007

    A Note on Bird Bird

    I recently finished off a short piece on Jeff. Listening to him read at Runnymede, I slipped into a kind of nervous mum mode, “OK Stretchers, just like we talked about . . .”.

    I was reading the work through a “multiple or possible worlds” critical framework, and listening out for invitations to so do. Forget about that.



    I was also listening out for vulnerable or injured language forming collectives. The birds themselves – oddballs, principled, noble, queer, English, extremely delicate – began to allegorise many of the scraps Jeff likes to use.

    To a lesser degree, they also allegorised how they interact – the pattern of non-coercive cues which language sends itself in both Stretchers and Bird Bird becoming flocking behaviour.

    In the pub Elizabeth James or Harry Gilonis pointed out that the birds appear much less fragile on the page. Locked into blocky full-justified body armour, they are perhaps even a little menacing. The two are of course not incompatible.

    (The doubleness of birds is pronounced because their arms are flatter than ours. Since many of these birds could be designated by half their name (Troglodytus as a way of saying Troglodytus Troglodytus), the doubleness of each name suggests a fractal. This is one of several moments in which Bird Bird deepens Stretchers’ preoccupations with space, placing / arrangement, and emergent order).

    "Cutesiness" is one way of formulating an amalgamation of threat and helplessness. Consider for a moment the role of the silly, the cloying, the infantile, the bestial, the bathetic, the cartoonish, and the high-pitched, in the work of Tim Atkins, Helen Bridwell, Coupons Coupons, Daniel Kane, Jeff Hilson, Redell Olsen, Lanny Quarles, Sophie Robinson, Keston Sutherland, Alan Sondheim, and Iris Watson. An infatuation with innocence could develop out of an obsession with minimally-complicit lyric. Cutesiness is one of the equillibria an intelligent infatuation with innocence could thereafter tend to. The cutesy does not automatically contain its own critique, but its chances are good. I’m not really connected to Jeff’s stuff as I think this. I don’t know – Stretchers or earlier work may concern itself with minimising or logging complicity. The moral repugnance of lyricism, and of any broadly linguistic end-in-itself, is a grisly toy-dilemma that comes with any poet’s starter kit, so it may well. It may instead relate to the fact that I first came across Stretchers at the same time as stuff which indubitably begins with these concerns (Andrea Brady’s Vacation of a Lifetime, Keston Sutherland’s Antifreeze). What do you think? Or perhaps it's uninteresting.

    I'll take a moment to characterise the cutesiness vector in Jeff’s work. (1) A tiny little mouse had HAD ENOUGH and put on her Zorro mask lowered her head and charged ooooooooooooooooooooooooo at London. Jeff had to leave “The Happy Man” early, but with the plan that if we all held on to a bit of London and jumped, she would zoom harmlessly underneath. Helen True refused to do Hackney and the ollie came down early and this passionate rodent was cropped by the edge of Romford (Jeff had planned for her to escape by a whisker).

    (2) When Jeff tore away a piece of Royal Holloway’s Founder's Building, he found it to be made from marzipan.

    (3) Pillow chat. All that’s secure in my mind is a homology, as follows. The cutesy subgenre of sweet nothings is a particular kind of language – it is marginal and unofficial, secretive and allusive, full of flesh and shit, it intimately knows macronic, malapropism, neologism, and deformation, it probes the limits of the sayable, its metaphors are overconfident, their inner semblances are often dark, its sounds are dense and promiscous, its denotative protocol is improvisational and iterative, it plays ball with fictionalist and antirealist philosophy). This is a language which poets – especially those on modernist or experimental kicks – are usually interested in. (One way to take the homology further might be to think about the ways in which sweet nothings are and are not baby talk. There's a sound poetry angle to this too, obviously). UPDATE: Lo!, Stephen Rodefer's Mon Canard now up at Onedit.

    (4) Jeff often remarks, “I see the end of your baby is twinkling.”

    (5) When a commotion was heard in the corridor, Jeff was first through the threshold. Americat batting Minimaus paw to paw. “What have I created?” Minimaus in the thrashhold. “Unhand-me-down?”

    Jeff noticed me smoking. “Help her, Crot!”

    “As my abs suggest, love is normal.”

    Minimaus in the thrashhold, slipping loose, making for the mousehole. Americat done toying, a nail through the tail & scra-a-a-a-a-tches Minimaus out from le mur infernal & lifts her. Wee limbs windmill – these movements will be recorded in equity as a currency translation adjustments, and the minimauscles whirling them, as about two calories.

    Minimaus’s “tail” autotomises! Earth for her spinning limbs; honey, lifegiving friction, and she zips to safety! Lo.2! The Zorro mask tan-lines are there when you look for them! For it was she and no other, no Big Smoke without Hell Mouth, she, Minimaus, who dared London confront! We are of course in a fashion of gasping! Jeff of chortling! Minimaus is stood where light will reach but claw cannot! She is waving her clasped paws in the whiskers to the right, the whiskers to the left, crotchets in deranged staves, pricking out ditties of ecstasy and survival! We can hear the thump of her mote heart! Brava! She shakes her bandaged booty to its beat! Americat, incensed, steals away, two tails between her legs, one prosthetic of spaghetti.

    Jeff lifts her by the scruff. Jeff puts them together, Americaught-in-the-act and Belligerat, like broken language. Then they are best of friends. Zorrat and Kamikrazee Kat. When the only supercrime worth fighting is Global Capitalism itself, even Maximus comes across as Medium Mouse.

    Friday, 9 March 2007

    Demo Tomorrow

    "Solidarity Demonstration scheduled for Saturday at 11 am at Abney Park Cemetry, Church St Entrance, with info stalls, banners, music . . . then march to Vortex for Noise Demo . . . we will also move down to the Danish Embassy for 2 pm in solidarity with the events in Copenhagen."

    You have always wanted to scream and scream on Church Street.

    From "For Walls ((Burner for OTL))"

    By Ulli Freer.

    […]sumed bush do it

    counter upon screen of everyone
    now to yourself look dead motion
    at face with reflection
    sold counter terrorist a list of gifts rifle
    prey global weld of polluted lashes
    scars long as escalator by endtimer
    with a present braided whip comedons
    as street ra
    […]

    50c

    Six Pence None the Richer tribute band Pence Eleven are playing at a Shoreditch bar tonight (Friday). I forget which and what time. See you there!

    It may be Catch on Kingsland Road.

    Wednesday, 7 March 2007

    Tuesday, 6 March 2007

    You are each special, each in his or her own special way.

    Were been vicd now! (5/5)

    Over the road from it, staring at squat white brick and peculiar harmony of kid, punk, pirate and hippie chics, you could get a little choked up. Not if, like me, you were a bailiff all along, strolling down the High Street remotely detonating a single charge to pop me in a spray of champagne into the upper echelons of paralawenforcement celebritydom and Donna in a homologous effect of blood from the Squacht’s final-stand “pigeon’s nest.” My throat unit is bleeping The Pussycat Dolls’s cover of Dean Martin / Pablo Beltrán Ruiz’s “Sway” as war cry as I manipulate Amy’s head into motes thereof with wrist-mounted thermoplastic polymer scratch-palps. You won’t believe, how strong the day got then.

    “It's from Dentyst’s Orgee,” I told what remains. I pocketed Amy’s lower jaw – people in Dental Records departments use lower jaws to establish last names. They cover it all in Basic Training.

    Were been vicd now! (4/5)

    Amy slipped into the Dentist’s Urgery tunnel on Stoke Newington High Street. Her palms found her knees and she breathed.

    There is no phone reception in the Dentist’s Urgery tunnel.

    Some people think Sergeant Star is a bot. But I’ve met the operator.

    “Can we get coffee”

    “That is a good question, however, I am not positive that I understand what you are asking. Try rephrasing your question. I understand simple questions best.”

    In the Dentist’s Urgery tunnel, an exquisite theatre expanded in Amy’s brain. Army Mom is one of the character classes available on the Goarmy web site. Amy saw just how many HP they had. Zawahiri used the precedent of a group of Muslims offered their pick of death or conversion. From their blessed martyrdom, Zawahiri drew the lesson it was not necessary all self-slaughter be harāam. The parent areas are adapted not to maximise recruitment, but to balance recruiting power against the power to absorb entire families into the choice and the blame. This enfranchisement starves the cross-partisan “murdered child” lobby of recruits via a mechanism of intolerable grief aggravation. It is democracy, the very ring as it twists, at the tip of the Liberty Bell-curve, as that peals to green hills, as those shift:

    "And if liposucked flocks shift on far hills,
    do they enough?"

    Amy had begun to SMS all this to the Squatch phone tree. There was more – the site of the next Squacht; wisdom, all of it; what obscured the gendered nature of the scissor-kick off the cross-bar; how she could give his song immortality, by letting it be about her body – but it was lost in a manifold of nervy textonym. Amy herself was a textonym. BOY. BOX. BMW. BOW. COW. COX. COY. ANY. Sometimes survival is the last mischief. The tunnel was ten steps long. Good for nothing, light went in at both ends.

    “It’s a false etymology,” a hollow voice came.

    Message sending
    failed. Try again
    later.
    OK

    Were been vicd now! (3/5)

    Sergeant Star has all the answers. What building should the Social Centre next occupy? With this avalanche of donation cash, should musicians be compensated for their skilled time? How to deal with “problem people,” and deal with dealing with them? Why was post-war planning for Iraq initially limited to “call[ing] […] [him] Jay!” and the suggestion it was OK to wear jeans to work? Why won’t the U.S. sign anything good? Why does the section for parents on the U.S. army's recruitment site pull its punches so? How can any lawful Muslim let himself bloom a bomb, since the prophet prohibits self-slaughter?

    Sergeant Star has all the answers, and we can’t get to them because our IP address has been blocked after Sparrow (2007) argued that it was sooooo funny to ask Sergeant Star three times if he’s gay.

    GENERAL ERROR: Are you in the army, Sgt Star?

    SGT STAR: I've been in the army for as long as I can remember, and I've loved every minute of it.

    GENERAL ERROR: And are you gay?

    SGT STAR: That's strike two, Private. One more bad word and I'm outta here.

    GENERAL ERROR: That wasn't a bad word.

    SGT STAR: That is a good question, however, I am not positive that I understand what you are asking. Try rephrasing your question. I understand simple questions best.

    GENERAL ERROR: . . . ‘cause you know, you sound like a fag.

    "Amy, your pixie mission is to survive," said Donna. And Amy almost did.

    Were been vicd now! (2/5)

    Cops love doughnuts and solve crimes. These were harmless. I caught up with their Deputy Chief Constable at the scene of the eviction:

    “Why are you like that”

    “Oh Harry dyes all his wives … it’s silly really”

    The officers mostly stood around Bluetoothing one-another’s siren ring-tones. Police presence is nonetheless essential to this kind of eviction, and the time it takes to order one, essential to the life cycle of a London squacht.

    Inside the building, the robobailiffs were working with the local community to ensure that the eviction was as green as the verminous action it extruded. All contact on the ground and basement decks was to benefit the Romanian Orphanage Fund. With easy access to the christenous vortex, sustainable waste disposal had never been a problem. Now, body disposal wasn’t. The robobailiffs had arrived on military public transport, first checking the APC stop to make sure they were on the right side of the road – “We can get the AAVP-7A1 or the AAVR-7R1, they both go there” – then hoping they had enough credit on their Gator Cards (see note 2).

    The upper deck, where the actual Vortex Jazz Bar had once chaired, was fragged before bailiffs proceeded into the danger zone. Contact was minimal besides all flesh is gas.

    Note 2: All bailiffs do time in the Humvee Egress Assistance Trainer during Basic Training. The HEAT is an M1114 or uparmoured humvee chassis mounted on an axle and powered by a generator. When activated, the device rotates the entire chassis to simulate a rollover situation. The bottom line, from a safety viewpoint, is that the first time a bailiff is involved in a rollover will not be the first time he or she has gone through the experience. The bailiff will have the necessary muscle memories to perform the roll-out manoeuvre and still touch out.