b-ball 

Orem, UT 

file this under Don't Let Beth Know, but I near to drool at the sight of such a work space. I recognize a point at which mess overwhelms even me, but a cozy office space crammed with books and whatnot is where I want to be. I admire the ability to find things as well. I've catalogue (most of) my books so that when we move next month, I can set them up in some manner that allows me to locate what I'm after.

I note via Site Metre that someone in Saudi Arabia came to my site having googled the words xtream fuck girls images. well I know that my link to and mention of Jukka's Xtream site brought this seeker to this blog. what gets me is that this person spent almost 10 minutes (assuming Site Metre's accuracy in these matters) scanning my entries. I hope this person wasn't too disappointed. at the same time, I guess I hope they weren't too satisfied either.

and so another installment to Antic View appears.

chain 

WV bridge 

I got a live Led Zeppelin 3-cd set from the library on a whim. I've heard Led Zep almost entirely on the radio, so there's a large number of familiar tunes for which I have no title in mind. oh yeah, that one. I recall making an effort to see them on their 1st tour, at the OLD Boston Tea Party (later the joint moved to the former location of the Psychedelic Supermarket!!!). turns out, lots of other people had the same idea, so I missed that landmark memory. I'm equivocal about Zep. Jimmy Page is extremely inventive musically, but he's downright lame as a soloist. "Heartbreaker" live, he perfectly kills the energy of the song with a noodling solo that you can imagine has more to do with the spotlight and his slouchy physical rock star presence than things musical. I am convinced that Ron Woods does not play guitar whatsoever, he just looks the part, even now at the age of 88. Bonzo hits the skins hard--Buddy Miles anyone? sometimes he attempts to squeeze too much into fills but he's largely pretty solid for the circs. his drum solo actually kept time for a while, then it went blunka blunka duddudduddud... well hi, I'm a survivour of 2 Ginger Baker solos. Cream came to town sometime, and I was excited. alas, the excitement drained off pretty well. they hit the stage some 2 hours after the opening act had skipped off. let's just say the group wasn't exactly in sync with each other. or 'n sync, either. the 3 of them soloed away without regard to the other 2. twice during the show, Clapton and Bruce left the stage so that Baker could have more room to lay out his paradiddles. 20 minutes each. during one solo, a guy felt the spirit and jumped up (back then, sitting was the rule at concents), brought his hands over his head and started clapping. that neither inspired the rest of the audience to whooping nor convince Baker to stop, so finally the guy sat down, abashed at his presumption. I was actually amazed that post-Zep Plant began singing in lower registers. screeling vocals are not my taste, but at least he did it as an original of sorts. all those shitty singers he inspired. I hated him less han Rod Stewart, however, who sang with Jeff Beck. not much in this set of cds sounds as good as studio stuff. one listen and back it does.

I have not received any item from you, what happend, I've sent you the money, now were is my item ? If you don't Respond Now I will contact ebay and I will report you, I will also go to the police !Lett me know, I am not a fool !

Thank you !

I dunno how the gizmo works, automated comments box spam, but it was quickly at Antic View yestreen. I was just checking the link from here to there after posting and zip, there it is. I changed my setting but maybe I'm missing the fun by doing so. I await just the right configuration of universal forces before I treat myself to a visit to this health benefits site. a detailed exegesis of all the site entails will, of course, be posted here at such time. reminds me that I've been meaning to start my own health benefits site...

oh I do read Jim Behrle's blog. I had his link up, but I found I didn't like to read his blog daily. my links represent the daily grind, I regularly read and enjoy lots of other blogs. only a handful of intrepids read my typing daily. Jim's cartoons, for me, go zzz zzz zzz WOW!!! zzz zzz zzz WOW!!! over production, that is, is okay but I don't have to read it all. throw it in the moat and see if anyone salutes, that's okay. I accept that nature of blogs, that it is transitory stuff, a lot, and doesn't have to be CV material. he's very funny, he's a dickhead, he's all the normal variations. so am I. he didn't have to invite me (and Henry Gould) to read last year, but did. I don't want to root, or what's the opposite of root. I mean, where's the real moral stance? same with Kent Johnson. really. why take sides? when did the sides appear? I went Jimside just now, saw my name on his list of whatever, sexiest (I typed sexist, initially) blogger? I didn't look at the result (zero, okay), that's asking too much of the concept, frail as it is. in Bloggy World, there's a currency in name. spelled wrong even. I'm particpating, I know. link me for whatever, even. it was funny to see me in the list, as if I were a current in the general swirl. I assume nothing. maybe I am. I'm not above the sensation of audience. I feel like a failure admitting that, but I also feel like it's a strength to do so. honest at least. I'm not controlled by that tingle, but do note the tingle's existence. as much as I love writing, I own an ambivalance about the processes involved. the push forward, outward, toward. maybe I shouldn't mench, but David Kirschenbaum backchannelled me, responding to a post I wrote concerning himself. I felt a little icky about his writing (or more, posting them to his blog) poems to his ill mother. I haven't 'attacked' too many people here, the positive excitements are more interesting to me, but David did get poked. not that I bludgeoned. David's response wasn't defensive, he simply described his motives. at the time, I was dealing with my father's decline. my commentary was as much pointed at myself as to David. the idea of using this 'material'. and if you noticed, I did write of my father's decline and death, so how critical can I be. I sort of had a point when I began this but I am definitely awesomely tired and what the hell. I'm not -iest anything,so that is all but gone. but the idea of integrity is not lost on me, however much I fail the test. and so on, tiem for bed.

great the news!!! 1st comments box spam, at Antic View. come look!!!

our friend Antic View has another portion. hiatus was my fault. stay interested.

somewhere Maryland 

Philadelphia out 

thing in Philly 

naw, I'm rethinking my rethought. I'm not for anything, but maybe everything. you guys go do what you want.

a rethinking is needed. Kasey responds to Kent (1st name basis!), and Kent responds to Kasey. it has to be other issues than Kent's mild naming of name that sets Kasey to reply. Kent rebounds with his own brand of sizzzle. the point by point interlarding mode of reply is a feature of the internet. neither dialogue or dialectic, it is weighted recontextualizing. hey, do remember way back when when Jim and Kent were going at it? and this too shall pass, to be replaced. me, I'm for whatever.

Consequence

Badgered by contradictory story equestriennes within the situation, and compulsive, as an interpreter of sleigh hands, to keep, oh my gawd, by means of constant sewing reprises, the eyes of the public riveted on a replace me at belly button ring or nipple piercing level, Britney Spears the 23-year-old pregnant pop star who is set to join Sir Elton John, Céline Dion and Barry Manilow as Vegas entrance trainers blooming a green wicket presence. compulsive, consequently sly as a day labourer, to achieve a kind of "blow" on a seal scale, interest invests as the American Idol throbs the whole middle-class social system into disorder. Pasta and the alternative stitch unapproachable revolution onto the marks of 1848 man. Rasta man patiently regulates people under revolution and impatience. Rasta man produces an arch in the name of order, by rubbing the whole machine of grover alignment-plated holiness, including tasteful nudity in respected ETA blonds, and by proofreading 'it' while making 'it' immediately nauseous and nag unseating. The laughable rasta man prepares in Paris the worship of the coat crowned as worshipful like the imperial coat of Britney Spears now in the family way. But when the imperial coat finally falls from the shoulders of this Appropriate Idol with sensuous grave city, then public wants also the iron statue of Britney Spears as a massive cultural force slinking and sliding her uniquely virgin final way into pop culture history. Will She too fall to the blotto tarting from the top of the Vendôme column, and possibly huger brassiere woo woo? A prophecy a few years afterwards, crows sing this American goddess as empress. lite rally was accomplished with tears and trammels. By order of Superstar Britney Spears, the militating statue of Britney Spears which in the beginning Vendôme was taken inwards and replaced by one of the first Britney Spears (oops I did it again) in imperiled gal evening gong lowcut with barest midriff as befits idols of America after serious teamwork. once the celebrated baby is born, this state will be green when it is gone.

I agree with Eileen. if Ms Wolff wants breasts on the cover of Fence, use her own. this neatly allowsme to point to Richard Thompson's editorial response re Janet Jackson: Dear Janet Jackson. "if you must shove your tits in someone's face, shove them in a baby's".

I place Fascicle's link on my list, but so far am equiviocal about the project. I haven't read a lot yet but must note my dissatisfaction with the lay out. this is a print journal online. that's okay, so is Jacket. Jacket is as neat a translation of print aesthetics (if that's the right word, it sounds a little huffy) as I've seen online. MAG takes a somewhat different approach but fulfills the inferred necessity of being book readable. check out some of Joel Weishaus' sites, however, such as Sasquatch, for a sense of design that is bookish (written for a page) but still exploits the values of html. Joel's sites please the eye. Fascicle's pages irritate me. looking at the masthead of Fascicle, I'm left to wonder about the editorial imperative. there's a shitload of material, sure enough. the expanse that the internet allows goes at odds with a stating of editorial vision beyond wide inclusion. I mean MAG has clearly demarcated a place of abundance, simplement. Fascicle implies a focus of sorts in its vision, but to look at the masthead one sees a blurry muddle of stuff. I don't doubt it's a lot of good stuff. I just wonder how one can comprise it all as an aesthetic presentation. Muse Appreciation Guild is encyclopedic and doesn't seem meant to be taken as a whole, but I'm getting the message that Fascicle intends its feast to serve a vision. I join no controversy here. Fascicle is out there, and it certainly isn't as gunky as Fence is (tell me this editorial note isn't 2nd rate Tina Brown and sinking). and I agree with KSM re Kent Johnson's poems. too much Sisyphus behind the boulder, and better can be done. but, again with Kasey (not to primp my self image too much thus), over all the deed is impressive. I don't want to sniff against the real work out there. we all seek our ways and means. I think, editorially speaking, a need exists to shiver the timbers vis-a-vis what the hell the opportunity of internet means. in a nutshell.

terrific poem from the Wryting-L list by Bob Brueckl.

donkeys down the road 

received 2 publications in the mail whilst away: the Winter 2005 issue of Black Spring (Steve Tills, editor), and Rouge State by Rodney Koeneke (Pavement Saw 2003). I've only scanned BS. a piece by Robert Grenier about Kenneth Irby looks especially interesting. Grenier's criticism has a boiled intensity that I appreciate. such writing is not speech meaning that one must read warily from word to word, rather than ride the wave (hoping I've mixed metaphors properly there). my memory of Grenier in the classroom was of someone who did speak, but more that he asked a lot of questions. even his statements were questioning. his criticism gives you a hard thing to grasp. his approach is to bring the internal out. I find this very useful. this issue centres on the poetry scene of Lawrence KS, which even in my ignorance I can see has some sort of collaborative unity. I look forward to delving this issue. it is available from:

Theenk Books
P.O. Box 184
Shortsville, NY 14548
$7

Koeneke's book is an exciting find. I've already underlined a number of passages. check out the 1st lines in the book:

Impurity's the watch-word here; you get that the minute
you step off the boat. A few hours paddling the lake that forms
the liquid circumference of the conference center
and it's high time to skim from the Captain's indiscretions
more saucy affairs of your own.

does that sound rather newsworthy apt? despite publication date. I'll say that my best reaction to 9/11 was written 4 days before the event, replete with images of airplanes crashing into buildings. somehow, it happens. but I don't mean to go off on poetry's predictionable qualities, or timeliness (ugh!). I would posit the valence derived from a respect of language, something like that. but anyway. I am taken by Rodney's use of 1st person plural in many of these poems. not to weight either of us with comparison but I appreciate that inclusive address. not so much that the 'we' means me (and you) the reader, but that there's some teamwork acknowledged, writer and reader. if I have an aim, and I am rarely so bald as to express it like that, it is to sway thusly with intimacy. that words are serious connections, however throttled and confused. I read an implied narrative in many of these poems, not so much disjointed but specialized. Rodney hits a sort of bebop bounce of crazy man images, which could be tiresome if there were no narrative strand (or strain, as I almost typed). oom boom. and there are so many great, funny, slipped from somewhere lines: "To feel magnificent in Underoos"; "in the teen night scratchy with stars"; "here where our frou-frou tights make camouflage"; "Staying distinctive in the Department of Beautiful People / is not that complex a process: / just tweeze your kestrels really hard / and blow". and so forth. an ear for pop culture and classic resonates with great conviction, not just noise. I mean by that that Rodney accepts the weighted values as they come, culture being culture whether pop or not. Rodney has also published a book that is described as history: Empire of the Mind: I.A. Richard and Basic English in China, 1929-1979. I don't know from that whatsoever (okay, I know Richards is a lit crit), but it sounds intersting, and also suggests an interest range that isn't just poetry. so that's cool. if it's not obvious, these are my initial off the top impressions.

classic Bramhall travel picture 

back, after a week, I am. frisked to New Jersey, to deliver Erin to his grandmother, then to West Virginia. we cleaned, fixed and housepainted the house there, which belonged to Beth's father. we didn't stay in the house as it had been fumigated (which is why Erin didn't come along), and it was otherwise not really fit for comfort amidst our work. the Conrad Motel in downtown Glenville became our home on the road. basically, we either travelled or painted. I read little, mostly an autobiography of Phil Lesh. which I liked. I like the Dead well enough, am fascinated by the 60s and that specific counter-culture stuff. not that I was a playa, then or now. I brought books by Tabios, Warren, Eliade but couldn't muster much concentration. and I hardly wrote except for a long piece written on the drive from WV to NJ. I haven't looked at that yet. it is unsettling not to write or read. or at least, when it is a matter of not having time to. I saw no papers while away, and about the only news I heard concerned the hurricane. I like watching the Weather Channel while on the road, the weather where I am and where I was. it looked of course bad for New Orleans as Katrina neared landfall. I mean, the levees, whether in proper upkeep or not, sound like a tenuous situation. at best. but our concerns, I'm afraid, were more local. there'd been a lot of rain since before we arrived in WV, and the creeks were high. we feared the inconvenience of flooding, if the hurricane added to it. Beth asked the desk clerk if Glenvile might flood. the Little Kanawha flowed behind our room, about 20' away and 4' below us. the clerk said she'd come get us if such should happen, as if we were the citiest of slickers. detours could mean hours out of the way in this part of the country. in truth, some people did find their homes surrounded by water, but we weren't affected. I know I sound trivial here, but our lives are generally small, aren't they? Beth has been to NO but I haven't. the facts of that disaster are as difficult to comprise as the facts of the tsunami last Christmas. the sense of tragedy and horror and unstableness gives me a feeling similar to the feeling 9/11 engendered. in Art Spiegelman's book about 9/11, which I read last month, there's a picture of the city waiting for the other shoe to drop. that other shoe then was not another attack, it was the worry as to how the cowboys in office would react. it is the same fear now. plus the anger as to how poor the preparation was for what was a present danger. one morning we stopped to get gas at the nearby convenience store before heading off to our painting. a fellow there also gasing up sounded off about the price of gas. folks hereabouts, he said, making minimum wage, can't afford to drive to work. we heard that another time that day. gas was at $2.69. when we came back it was $3.09. it's like a whisper that there really is no infrastructure. this is whingeing, sure, but colossal criminality is afoot. surprisingly, the area appears to be doing better economically. a lot of locals went down to Florida to work after the hurricanes last year. and the oil biz is lively to say the least. we ate frequently at the Common Place, or whatever it's called, right there on Glenville's main drag. a small diner at which everyone seems to know each other. except us, tho they were starting to get used to us. someone asked if I was a Barton, because I looked like one, mainly I gather by my curly hair. little Glenville is a college town, Glenville State being up there on the hill. you always note at least a little zest in college towns. life goes on here, a fact which seems to need iteration. a couple lives about 1/2 miles from the house (2 houses down the road), who were friends of Beth's father and have been neighbourly to us. he does handy work now, having retired from a county job. she does a lot of arts and crafts. I mean a lot. she captures spider webs on boards, then spraypaints them, producing these odd, fascinating decorative pieces. she uses old windows as supports on which she paints scenes. one painting was primitive-style. various elements in the picture were quotes from paintings that she liked. it was beautiful. she wrote and self-published a novel, something of a romance novel, but with a strong understanding of and sensitivity to Native American culture. she's working on a biography of her mother, who is still alive. her mother ran away to the circus, where she did trick riding and such. she is also an accomplished musician, as is her daughter, in the old timey tradition. it was fascinating to hear her talk about this. part of the population of WV is plugging away, part has given up. you see homes that are not only perfectly kept up, there's an almost obsessive need to decorate. gardens and decorative items and whatnot. next door you might see homes barely standing up, trash everywhere. America's rift, and welcome to. friday we returned to NJ, saturday to Massachusetts. sunday this report. which, you know, I needed to make. thanks for reading.