>
with the fact that
>
we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe we're already
>
dead)
>
BUT rather
> IT
>
comes from the common
>
element
>
that we were
>
HATCHED !
>=20
>
david rhaesa
>
salina, Kansas
i
forgot to put=20
in the
first place
at the
end=20
of
this.
thanks,
david
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 17:24:04 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: Re: pale blue eyes
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RACE
--- wrote:
>
>
Malcolm Lawrence wrote:
>
>
>
> >Such a wonderful mixture of wonderful lines and some pretty shakey
ones
>
>
>
> Well let's give Lou a little more credit by fixing your mistake.
>
>
>
> >She said money is like us in time
>
> >It lies but can't stand up
>
> >Count for you is up.
>
>
>
> COUNT for you is up?
>
>
>
> Ahem
>
>
>
> DOWN for you is up.
>
>
>
> As you were
>
>
>
> Malcs
>
>
Basie is up and i am down and somewhere
> in
between
>
two children swing on a playground
>
dreaming dreams
>
that will be new dreams
>
twenty years later
>
when they're still
>
dreamers
>
and neither of their mother's
>
ever
>
understood them a lick.
>
>
david rhaesa
>
salina, Kansas
this is
what talking to yourself looks like on a listserv....
bye bye
david
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 18:57:38 -0500
Reply-To: Michael Skau
<mskau@CWIS.UNOMAHA.EDU>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Michael Skau <mskau@CWIS.UNOMAHA.EDU>
Subject: ketchup
Content-Type:
text
Hi
everyone.
Been
gone for a couple of weeks on a brief vacation, so I'm a bit
behind
on my e-mail. However, I wanted to put my foot in the door
even at
the risk of stating something that someone else may have
already
said (I've still got about a week of e-mail that I'm behind
on) or
in dragging people back to a topic already discarded.
I was
glad to see the Eliot-Burroughs St. Louis connection mentioned
because
Burroughs uses allusions to Eliot repeatedly. Also interesting
about
the facsimile publications of both _Waste Land_ and _Howl_. Other
possibilities
too. I do not see how one can ignore the visionary qualities
in
Eliot, particularly _Waste Land_, _Ash Wednesday_, and _Four Quartets_,
and he
certainly touched the darkness of modern life; I would be hard-
pressed
to try to think of a poem more angst-driven than Prufrock. In fact,
his
"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons" seems to me to
capture
exactly what the Beats were determined to try to avoid happening
to
their lives; Prufrock knows what's wrong with his life, but he's too
chicken-shit
to do anything about it--and Eliot knows this. If you take
the
opening of _Waste Land_ and replace "cruelest" with
"saddest" the
passage
could come from Kerouac. Think also of Kerouac's cat poems and
_Ol'
Possums Book of Practical Cats_; think of Eliot's Anglo-Catholicism
mixed
with eastern religion (the "Da" of the end of _Waste Land_) and
Kerouac's
Catholicism
mixed with Buddhism.
Actually,
however, I'm not sure how Eliot even got in here. IMHO the greatest
poet of
the 20th century--and maybe of all time--was William Butler Yeats.
Heroin
as a preservative? Maybe Burroughs doesn't have to die: he's already
embalmed
himself while alive. I saw Iggy Pop earlier this month on the ROAR
tour:
his energy was incredible and simply blew away younger bands like Tonic
and
Sponge. Catch him if you can.
Writing
on drugs: often I feel that I create some of my best work stoned. The
problem
is that when I look at it again the next morning, I'm so embarrassed
that I
can only pray that I hadn't somehow shown it to anybody: Ginsberg's
"in
the morning were stanzas of gibberish." A Hallucination Dissertation
Manifesto
of Coca, Saturn, and Sun.
In
terms of epiphanies, in a letter to neal Cassady dated 27 June 1948,
Kerouac
referred to the Des Moines experience: You know that I have hitch-
hiked
around and have been alone in weird cities and places, and waked up in
the
morning not knowing who I was (particularly one time in Des Moines)"
(_Selected
Letters_ p. 155). Sometimes artists begin to see their lives
in
symbolic terms.
More
later.
Cordially,
Mike
Skau
6/22/97
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 19:52:00 +0000
Reply-To: "neudorf@discovland.net"
<neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: "neudorf@discovland.net"
<neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>
Subject: Drugs & Spontaneity
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In
response to Mike Skau's:
>
Writing on drugs: often I feel that I create some of my best work stoned. The
>
problem is that when I look at it again the next morning, I'm so embarrassed
>
that I can only pray that I hadn't somehow shown it to anybody: Ginsberg's
>
"in the morning were stanzas of gibberish." A Hallucination
Dissertation
>
Manifesto of Coca, Saturn, and Sun.
To
paraphrase Gary Snyder, he states that ("The Real Work" interviews)
if you
write
*under
the influence* of psychedelics, it is as if you are entering the
cave
and
*stopping*
at the first gold pieces, instead of experiencing the cave
for the
cave, reaching farther into the cave where the diamonds lie.
Writing
is a form of documentation, and if you are constantly
documenting,
the pure experience, the beauty of the trip is compromised.
It is more rewarding to write after
the fact - a little time for
contemplation
- understanding of the trip - Wordsworth writes: "poetry
is the
spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings [which is the trip] . .
.
recollected in tranquility" [after the trip].
This is a good issue for discussion. Spontaneous writing . . .
there is
definately
a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the
discipline
of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.
When
the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing
else to
do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his
language
that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,
then
stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.
Joseph
Neudorfer
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 19:58:25 +0000
Reply-To: "neudorf@discovland.net"
<neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: "neudorf@discovland.net"
<neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>
Subject: Rocks
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In
response to Charles Plymell's:
>
The rock is cold on the outside and hot on the inside. I think that was Tao
> or
some chinese poet philosopher going off in my head, but I can understand
>
the physics of it. We could all preach to
ourselves a little more.
They
say if you pray to a rock with enough devotion, it will live.
Joseph
Neudorfer
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 19:53:02 -0500
Reply-To: =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?=
<ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?=
<ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
In-Reply-To: <33ADA5C5.1D36@midusa.net>
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>RACE
--- wrote:
>>
>>
Sinverg=FCenza wrote:
>>
>>
> yeah. the only reason we do anything is because we know we're going to
>>die.
>>
>>
ok now that 2 folks have said this
>>
i'm going to open my
>>
little soapbox up and stand on it
>>
like a preacher from the
>>
temple of the Harvest Moon
>>
and teach y'all a thing or two
>>
about chickens
>>
and eggs
>>
and why we do anything including writing
>>
it has much less to do
>>
with the fact that
>>
we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe we're already
>>
dead)
>>
BUT rather
>>
IT
>>
comes from the common
>>
element
>>
that we were
>>
HATCHED !
>>
>>
david rhaesa
>>
salina, Kansas
>
seems
to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not quibble. death,
birth,
let's call it all off.
"Lies!
Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!
There
is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,
there
is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,
and this
too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso
-leo
jilk
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 20:02:54 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: Re: Drugs & Spontaneity
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1.0
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RACE
--- wrote:
>
>
neudorf@discovland.net wrote:
>
>
>
> In response to Mike Skau's:
>
>
>
> > Writing on drugs: often I feel that I create some of my best work
stoned.
The
>
> > problem is that when I look at it again the next morning, I'm so
embarrassed
>
> > that I can only pray that I hadn't somehow shown it to anybody:
Ginsberg's
>
> > "in the morning were stanzas of gibberish." A Hallucination
Dissertation
>
> > Manifesto of Coca, Saturn, and Sun.
>
>
>
> To paraphrase Gary Snyder, he states that ("The Real Work" interviews)
>
> if you write
>
> *under the influence* of psychedelics, it is as if you are entering the
>
> cave and
>
> *stopping* at the first gold pieces, instead of experiencing the cave
>
> for the cave, reaching farther into the cave where the diamonds lie.
>
> Writing is a form of documentation, and if you are constantly
>
> documenting, the pure experience, the beauty of the trip is compromised.
>
>
>
> It is more rewarding to
write after the fact - a little time for
>
> contemplation - understanding of the trip - Wordsworth writes:
"poetry
>
> is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings [which is the trip] . .
>
> . recollected in tranquility" [after the trip].
>
>
>
> This is a good issue for
discussion. Spontaneous writing . . . there
is
>
> definately a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the
>
> discipline of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.
>
> When the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing
>
> else to do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his
>
> language that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,
>
> then stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.
>
>
>
> Joseph Neudorfer
>
>
First, seems Mr. Snyder understood psychedlics about as well as a turtle
> on
a road.
>
>
Second, layered writing allows the gold pieces and the diamond and the
>
shadows on the cave walls. anyone
caught by a couple damn metaphorical
>
gold pieces amidst the roar of the universe and the abyss in the mirror
>
wasn't cut out to do crap in the beginning.
shouldn't have let them
>
near those magic potions.
>
>
Third, stream of consciousness spontaneity is a vision and then one can
> go
back with to the same location and jump back in the stream with the
>
distance of (time, space, reflection, contemplation - pick your poison).
>
>
Fourth, the urge to burn it, the embarrassment that one might have shown
>
something to somebody is something i can relate to. usually those are
>
the one that i find most exciting to jump back into after about six
>
months. and sometimes some of it didn't
make sense ... so just put some
>
more nonsense next to it and some folks will think you have these
>
distorted images in your brain and were able to write it down.
>
>
Fifth, typing under the influence is the same garbage as the whole
>
establishment drug mythology. we're all
under the influence. pick your
>
poison - OJ or Marlboro Reds.
>
> I
now will
>
pack up my soap box
>
feed my dog
>
and my pony
>
and head on down
>
the road
>
and up the third holler
> to
my great grandpa's grave on a misty
>
morning as the sun rises
>
over the mill of the
>
true
>
MUSE
>
and i'll shut my trap so y'all
>
can figure out what reality is at let me in on the secret.
>
>
sincerely,
>
>
david rhaesa
>
salina, Kansas
HEY
RACE
you
moron learn how to mail the damn messages or stay off the
spaceship!!!!
yours
truly,
race
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 20:09:00 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: Re: Rocks
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neudorf@discovland.net
wrote:
>
> In
response to Charles Plymell's:
>
>
> The rock is cold on the outside and hot on the inside. I think that was
Tao
>
> or some chinese poet philosopher going off in my head, but I can
understand
>
> the physics of it. We could all preach to
ourselves a little more.
>
>
They say if you pray to a rock with enough devotion, it will live.
>
Joseph Neudorfer
who is
they - the rocks???? i bet they pass a nice collection plate to
you
too! sounds like cheap con blackmail to
me.
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 20:14:27 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
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Sinverg=FCenza
wrote:
>=20
>
>RACE --- wrote:
>
>>
>
>> Sinverg=FCenza wrote:
>
>>
>
>> > yeah. the only reason we do anything is because we know we're
goin=
g to
>
>>die.
>
>>
>
>> ok now that 2 folks have said this
>
>> i'm going to open my
>
>> little soapbox up and stand on it
>
>> like a preacher from the
>
>> temple of the Harvest Moon
>
>> and teach y'all a thing or two
>
>> about chickens
>
>> and eggs
>
>> and why we do anything including writing
>
>> it has much less to do
>
>> with the fact that
>
>> we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe we're alrea=
dy
>
>> dead)
>
>> BUT rather
>
>> IT
>
>> comes from the common
>
>> element
>
>> that we were
>
>> HATCHED !
>
>>
>
>> david rhaesa
>
>> salina, Kansas
>
>
>
seems to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not quibble. death,
>
birth, let's call it all off.
>=20
>
"Lies! Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!
>
There is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,
>
there is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,
>
and this too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso
>=20
>
-leo jilk
this
corso guy sounds interesting. i've
always doubted that much was
around
pre-1960. all a lie, a dream, a pair of
spiders tangoing in a
great
Snake ritual or whatever but i am here and i imagine you're there
and
we're both in this cyber-reality and so i ain't sure a lie is a lie
at all
and i don't even really know what a lie is ...=20
what is
a lie? now that's one for the final
exam! i bet that's the
first
question on the post-death exam....
1) what is a lie?
2) why are you here?
short
answers only ....
grades
will be distributed by secret committee of saints and angels and
if
you're real lucky you may hear from us or get on a wait-list.
otherwise
...
hell,
recincarnation ain't bad. maybe you can
be a rock next time and
get
people to pray to you.
david
rhaesa
salina,
Kansas
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:01:07 -0700
Reply-To: Diane Carter <dcarter@TOGETHER.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Diane Carter <dcarter@TOGETHER.NET>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
MIME-Version:
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>Sinverg=FCenza
wrote:
>
>
>
> > > seems to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not
quibble. de=
ath,
>
> birth, let's call it all off.
>
>
>
> "Lies! Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!
>
> There is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,
>
> there is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,
>
> and this too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso
>
>
>
> -leo jilk
>
RACE --- wrote:
>
this corso guy sounds interesting. i've
always doubted that much was
>
around pre-1960. all a lie, a dream, a
pair of spiders tangoing in a
>
great Snake ritual or whatever but i am here and i imagine you're there
>
and we're both in this cyber-reality and so i ain't sure a lie is a lie
> at
all and i don't even really know what a lie is ...
>=20
>
what is a lie? now that's one for the
final exam! i bet that's the
>
first question on the post-death exam....
>=20
>
1) what is a lie?
>=20
>
2) why are you here?
>=20
>
short answers only ....
>=20
>
grades will be distributed by secret committee of saints and angels and
> if
you're real lucky you may hear from us or get on a wait-list.
>=20
>
otherwise ...
>
hell, recincarnation ain't bad. maybe
you can be a rock next time and
>
get people to pray to you.
>=20
>
david rhaesa
>
salina, Kansas
Sorry,
guys, but all this talk of birth and eggs and reincarnation made=20
me go
entirely out of the beat universe, to this quote from Wordsworth,
"Our
birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:=20
The
Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness..."
DC
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 21:13:04 -0500
Reply-To: =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?= <ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?=
<ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
In-Reply-To: <33ADCDF3.4E0D@midusa.net>
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RACE
--- wrote:
>Sinverg=FCenza
wrote:
>>
>>
>RACE --- wrote:
>>
>>
>>
>> Sinverg=FCenza wrote:
>>
>>
>>
>> > yeah. the only reason we do anything is because we know we're
going =
to
>>
>>die.
>>
>>
>>
>> ok now that 2 folks have said this
>>
>> i'm going to open my
>>
>> little soapbox up and stand on it
>>
>> like a preacher from the
>>
>> temple of the Harvest Moon
>>
>> and teach y'all a thing or two
>>
>> about chickens
>>
>> and eggs
>>
>> and why we do anything including writing
>>
>> it has much less to do
>>
>> with the fact that
>>
>> we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe we're already
>>
>> dead)
>>
>> BUT rather
>>
>> IT
>>
>> comes from the common
>>
>> element
>>
>> that we were
>>
>> HATCHED !
>>
>>
>>
>> david rhaesa
>>
>> salina, Kansas
>>
>
>>
seems to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not quibble. death,
>>
birth, let's call it all off.
>>
>>
"Lies! Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!
>>
There is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,
>>
there is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,
>>
and this too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso
>>
>>
-leo jilk
>
>this
corso guy sounds interesting. i've
always doubted that much was
>around
pre-1960.
that is
actually quite amusing.
all a lie, a dream, a pair of spiders
tangoing in a
>great
Snake ritual or whatever but i am here and i imagine you're there
>and
we're both in this cyber-reality and so i ain't sure a lie is a lie
>at
all and i don't even really know what a lie is ...
i
always get the same response when i send that to people. the last person
simply
wrote back, "i don't believe you."
>
>what
is a lie? now that's one for the final
exam! i bet that's the
>first
question on the post-death exam....
>
>1) what is a lie?
>
>2) why are you here?
>
>short
answers only ....
>
>grades
will be distributed by secret committee of saints and angels and
>if
you're real lucky you may hear from us or get on a wait-list.
>
>otherwise
...
>hell,
recincarnation ain't bad. maybe you can
be a rock next time and
>get
people to pray to you.
>
>
>david
rhaesa
>salina,
Kansas
there
has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LIE.
Imagine
a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of water
where
some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from inside,
others
retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes
extended
mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a grain of
salt
inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all there
ever
shall be until another day or another group of words, or some foreign
color
comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures for a
time,
or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, which
is no
more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blinders on
to a
painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean on that
day
when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore barren
and
dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.
Nothing
lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamoring
life, a
history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a part, a
day at
the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will see or
the
last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little black
mudskipper,
with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded in
hide,
at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to the
things
of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microcosmic
embodiment
of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in the
scene
of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of men,
and all
of the strivings and failures that will be.
-leo
jilk
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 21:26:32 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
MIME-Version:
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Sinverg=FCenza
wrote:
>=20
>
RACE --- wrote:
>=20
>
>Sinverg=FCenza wrote:
>
>>
>
>> >RACE --- wrote:
>
>> >>
>
>> >> Sinverg=FCenza wrote:
> >>
>>
>
>> >> > yeah. the only reason we do anything is because we know
we're g=
oing to
>
>> >>die.
>
>> >>
>
>> >> ok now that 2 folks have said this
>
>> >> i'm going to open my
>
>> >> little soapbox up and stand on it
>
>> >> like a preacher from the
>
>> >> temple of the Harvest Moon
>
>> >> and teach y'all a thing or two
>
>> >> about chickens
>
>> >> and eggs
>
>> >> and why we do anything including writing
>
>> >> it has much less to do
>
>> >> with the fact that
>
>> >> we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe
we're al=
ready
>
>> >> dead)
>
>> >> BUT rather
>
>> >> IT
>
>> >> comes from the common
>
>> >> element
>
>> >> that we were
>
>> >> HATCHED !
>
>> >>
>
>> >> david rhaesa
>
>> >> salina, Kansas
>
>> >
>
>> seems to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not quibble.
death=
,
>
>> birth, let's call it all off.
>
>>
>
>> "Lies! Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!
>
>> There is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,
>
>> there is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,
>
>> and this too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso
>
>>
>
>> -leo jilk
>
>
>
>this corso guy sounds interesting.
i've always doubted that much was
>
>around pre-1960.
>=20
>
that is actually quite amusing.
>=20
> all a lie, a dream, a pair of spiders
tangoing in a
>
>great Snake ritual or whatever but i am here and i imagine you're ther=
e
>
>and we're both in this cyber-reality and so i ain't sure a lie is a li=
e
>
>at all and i don't even really know what a lie is ...
>=20
> i
always get the same response when i send that to people. the last per=
son
>
simply wrote back, "i don't believe you."
>=20
>
>
>
>what is a lie? now that's one for
the final exam! i bet that's the
>
>first question on the post-death exam....
>
>
>
>1) what is a lie?
>
>
>
>2) why are you here?
>
>
>
>short answers only ....
>
>
>
>grades will be distributed by secret committee of saints and angels an=
d
>
>if you're real lucky you may hear from us or get on a wait-list.
>
>
>
>otherwise ...
>
>hell, recincarnation ain't bad.
maybe you can be a rock next time and
>
>get people to pray to you.
>
>
>
>
>
>david rhaesa
>
>salina, Kansas
>=20
>
there has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LIE.
>
Imagine a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of wat=
er
>
where some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from insid=
e,
>
others retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes
>
extended mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a grain=
of
>
salt inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all ther=
e
>
ever shall be until another day or another group of words, or some fore=
ign
>
color comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures fo=
r a
>
time, or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, wh=
ich
> is
no more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blinder=
s on
> to
a painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean on =
that
>
day when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore barre=
n
>
and dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.
>
Nothing lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamorin=
g
>
life, a history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a par=
t, a
>
day at the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will see =
or
>
the last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little black
>
mudskipper, with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded in
>
hide, at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to t=
he
>
things of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microcos=
mic
>
embodiment of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in the
>
scene of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of men=
,
>
and all of the strivings and failures that will be.
>=20
>
-leo jilk
interesting
answer. the Committee will consider it
and send you the
Committee's
decision on the appropriate response to your answer.
sincerely,
the
Commmittee
david
rhaesa
salina,
Kansas
p.s. i wasn't joking about Corso. he sounds like an interesting guy
and
someone it would be good to hang out with (at least once or twice).=20
i don't
know that he or anyone else deserves to be quoted chapter and
verse
like saint paul the skip tracer or something.
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 00:04:50 -0700
Reply-To: Diane Carter <dcarter@TOGETHER.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Diane Carter
<dcarter@TOGETHER.NET>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
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>Sinverg=FCenza
wrote:
>=20
>
there has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LIE.
>
Imagine a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of wat=
er
>
where some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from insid=
e,
>
others retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes
>
extended mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a grain=
of
>
salt inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all ther=
e
>
ever shall be until another day or another group of words, or some fore=
ign
>
color comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures fo=
r a
>
time, or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, wh=
ich
> is
no more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blinder=
s on
> to
a painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean on =
that
>
day when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore barre=
n
>
and dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.
>
Nothing lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamorin=
g
> life,
a history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a par=
t, a
>
day at the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will see =
or
>
the last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little black
>
mudskipper, with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded in
>
hide, at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to t=
he
>
things of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microcos=
mic
>
embodiment of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in the
>
scene of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of men=
,
>
and all of the strivings and failures that will be.
>=20
>
-leo jilk
Are you
saying that LIE and IT are the same thing?
DC
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 20:47:48 -0700
Reply-To: runner911 <babu@ELECTRICITI.COM>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: runner911 <babu@ELECTRICITI.COM>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
In-Reply-To: <33ADCA8B.55F7@together.net>
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At 5:59
PM -0700 6/22/97, Diane Carter wrote:
>
Anyone out there got an feelings about this?
just
pulled in from a trip to LA. gave
myself over to a woman who took me
walking,
took me swimming, gave me food and water.
The warm air, the beer,
the
gentle times, her companionship sure gave my mind an ease. For the 125
odd
miles home I sustained a centered soul.
sustaining is not the word.
my
whispers were heard and I was sustained.
thank you T, and hallelujah to
the
rest.
please
god, do not let me grow old alone.
cheers,
Douglas
http://www.electriciti.com/babu/ summer
save
it, just keep it off my wave
is
-- ("my wave," soundgarden) here
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 22:45:57 -0500
Reply-To: =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?=
<ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>
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List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?=
<ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
In-Reply-To: <33AE2012.1416@together.net>
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>>Sinverg=FCenza
wrote:
>>
>>
there has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LIE.
>>
Imagine a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of water
>>
where some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from inside,
>>
others retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes
>>
extended mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a grain o=
f
>>
salt inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all there
>>
ever shall be until another day or another group of words, or some foreig=
n
>>
color comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures for =
a
>>
time, or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, whic=
h
>>
is no more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blinders =
on
>>
to a painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean on th=
at
>>
day when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore barren
>>
and dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.
>>
Nothing lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamoring
>>
life, a history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a part,=
a
>>
day at the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will see or
>>
the last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little black
>>
mudskipper, with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded in
>>
hide, at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to the
>>
things of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microcosmi=
c
>>
embodiment of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in the
>>
scene of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of men,
>>
and all of the strivings and failures that will be.
>>
>>
-leo jilk
>
>
>Are
you saying that LIE and IT are the same thing?
>DC
well...they
could be. actually, i did not intend them to be the same thing.
in
fact, i can't guarantee that anything in my post had too much to do with
the
word lie. i was just letting my mind roam for a moment.
-leo
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:57:22 -0400
Reply-To: "R. Bentz Kirby"
<bocelts@SCSN.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: "R. Bentz Kirby" <bocelts@SCSN.NET>
Organization:
Law Office of R. Bentz Kirby
Subject: forlorn rags of getting old -- or, we're
all bozos on this bus
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Race:
I think
that all responses should be submitted in the form of a
question. From there we could submit them to the
President and see if
he can
give us an answered. Once I asked him
where I could get a job,
down
here on Dutch Elm Street, and he said that he had discussed this
with
the leaders of business and that in the Future, they will not have
to
answer questions like that anymore.
Then this clown, Clem, he came
along
and asked the President something like, "Why does a JUJU bird lay
its
eggs in the air", and it broke the President. But the Future farie
is
still there, so the President must be working again. Any ways, could
you
state that as a question please.
(With
my humble apologies to Firesign Theater)I am,
Very
truly there,
--
Bentz
bocelts@scsn.net
http://www.scsn.net/users/sclaw
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:38:31 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of getting old -- or,
we're all bozos on this bus
Comments:
To: "R. Bentz Kirby" <bocelts@SCSN.NET>
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R.
Bentz Kirby wrote:
>
>
Race:
>
> I
think that all responses should be submitted in the form of a
>
question. From there we could submit
them to the President and see if
> he
can give us an answered. Once I asked
him where I could get a job,
>
down here on Dutch Elm Street, and he said that he had discussed this
>
with the leaders of business and that in the Future, they will not have
> to
answer questions like that anymore.
Then this clown, Clem, he came
>
along and asked the President something like, "Why does a JUJU bird lay
>
its eggs in the air", and it broke the President. But the Future farie
> is
still there, so the President must be working again. Any ways, could
>
you state that as a question please.
>
>
(With my humble apologies to Firesign Theater)I am,
>
>
Very truly there,
>
> --
>
Bentz
>
bocelts@scsn.net
>
>
http://www.scsn.net/users/sclaw
I
assume that you mean the honourable President Dwight David
Eisenhower. went to that man's funeral. it was a fake. he's still
alive
running around these parts ... on a dark and stormy night you can
see Ike
walking his beagle down the Santa Fe Trail and Festus is too
drunk
to notice that the Beagle is carrying a typewriter and looks just
a bit
like a canine version of burroughs.
david
rhaesa
salina,
Kansas
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:41:43 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
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Diane
Carter wrote:
>=20
>
>Sinverg=FCenza wrote:
>
>
>
> there has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LI=
E.
>
> Imagine a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of w=
ater
>
> where some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from ins=
ide,
>
> others retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes
>
> extended mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a gra=
in of
>
> salt inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all th=
ere
>
> ever shall be until another day or another group of words, or some fo=
reign
>
> color comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures =
for a
>
> time, or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, =
which
>
> is no more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blind=
ers on
>
> to a painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean o=
n that
>
> day when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore bar=
ren
>
> and dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.
>
> Nothing lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamor=
ing
>
> life, a history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a p=
art, a
>
> day at the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will se=
e or
>
> the last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little bla=
ck
>
> mudskipper, with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded =
in
>
> hide, at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to=
the
>
> things of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microc=
osmic
>
> embodiment of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in t=
he
>
> scene of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of m=
en,
>
> and all of the strivings and failures that will be.
>
>
>
> -leo jilk
>=20
>
Are you saying that LIE and IT are the same thing?
> DC
LIE +
IT =3D LIGHT
if LIE
=3D IT
then=20
LIE +
LIE =3D LIGHT
white
lie yes it computes.
david
rhaesa
salina,
Kansas
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:54:48 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List"
<BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
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Sinverg=FCenza
wrote:
> i can't guarantee that anything in my post
had too much to do with
>
the word lie.=20
>
-leo
hmmm.
the Committee will take this into consideration in evaluating
the
Committee
david
rhaesa
salina,
Kansas
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 00:31:37 +0000
Reply-To: "neudorf@discovland.net"
<neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: "neudorf@discovland.net"
<neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>
Subject: Various Notes,
Rhymes & More [actually the
title from one of my poems]
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In
response to David Rhaesa's:
> .
. . typing under the influence is the same garbage as the whole
>
establishment drug mythology. we're all
under the influence. pick your
>
poison - OJ or Marlboro Reds.
> I
now will
>
pack up my soap box
>
feed my dog
>
and my pony
>
and head on down
>
the road
>
and up the third holler
> to
my great grandpa's grave on a misty
>
morning as the sun rises
>
over the mill of the
>
true
>
MUSE
>
and i'll shut my trap so y'all
>
can figure out what reality is at let me in on the secret.
It's
too bad you believe that "we're all under the influence" even when
the
individual is sober from the commonly accepted substances. Religion
can be
argued to be a substance, there's really no right / wrong answer.
In my
view, drugs in no way create, it is still the artist creating,
albeit
in an altered state - they can be seen as a short cut =
spiritually,
artistically, etc (if you believe in that logic).
With
respects to your poem:
> i now will
> pack up my soap box'
I have
read 'soap box' quite often on this list. We must get rid of this
notion.
> to my great grandpa's grave on a
misty
> morning as the sun rises'
Nice
image. "on a misty / morning" - why does this have to be broken up
in two
lines, it is the word combination that creates the image. Maybe:
to my great grandpa's grave
on a misty morning
as the sun rises
= 3
images, 3 lines
I guess
the form of the poem you wrote is free verse. Anybody read
Charles
Olson's "Projective Verse" essay?
With
respects to Gregory Corso, here's a poem I wrote a while back:
Everyday Tuesday
Returning home early from date
unlucky.
David greets me with second-hand Corso book o poetry
despite first-hand tales of
being asshole.
Real night to begin in
basement
with William Carlos Williams
and fresh translation Tao Te Ching.
Sudden phone call
from Latino pal in jail
for touching wrong woman
in wrong place
at wrong time
who to believe
pleading innocent.
Court case tuesday next.
[Just
in case, 'David' is my twin brother]
Joseph
Neudorfer
=========================================================================
Date: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:40:51 +0000
Reply-To: wirtz@ridgecrest.ca.us
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Mike & Barbara Wirtz
<wirtz@RIDGECREST.CA.US>
Subject: Re: lurker speaks
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Diane
Carter wrote:
>
>
Mike & Barbara Wirtz wrote:
>
>
>
> I reread Howl this afternoon...and I think not so much that it is
>
> misunderstood as suffering from a very specialized and narrow
>
> audience. I read it and
thought.....period piece...I don't think it
>
> will transcend time... Usually people can empathsize and relate to
>
> another's emotional trauma...but it is very difficult to connect to
>
> Ginsberg in Howl. I do have an
appreciation for the poem...he does
>
> convey some stunning ideas and displays verbal dexterity and wit...... I
>
> feel as if people who can relate, would really hoist this poem as the
>
> icon of the the time and/ or experience...it would be ...the emblem poem
>
> that it is.. But as a reader, I'm
an outsider, gawking and
>
> rubber-necking a tragedy I can only witness from afar and listen to the
>
> howling without ever wanting to howl myself.
>
> Barb
>
>
Barb,
>
>
Howl, as well as the rest of the poetry of Ginsberg, will stand the test
> of
time. You and I obviously come from
very different experiences. When
> I
first discovered Howl, it literally saved my life. It was not until he
>
died and I read the hundreds of memorials posted on various web pages
>
that I saw in writing what I had known intellectually all along. That he
>
truly touched the souls of masses of people, many whom would not be alive
>
today if his words had not given them the freedom and power to be
>
themselves. And beyond that, to write
of themselves. Not only do I
>
identify with Howl, although I wasn't born until the fifies, I knew that
> it
marked the beginning of a time when poetry would no longer be the same
>
again. It marked a time when no longer
would the same limits be placed
> on
thought or the poetry that came from that thought. In his incredible
>
body of work, of which Howl is just the cornerstone, Ginsberg gave us a
>
new definition of how humanness, every little speck of humanness, could
>
indeed be poetic. He also spoke of America,
an imperfect America, and
>
how it is necessary for poets to address the culture which is at their
>
feet. But the big thing about Ginsberg
is that he was remained positive
> in
addressing the darkness of the mind and what he saw as the darkness of
>
America. While he pointed the the
dusty, rotting imageless locomotives,
> he
also pointed to the sunflower of the soul.
>
> I
cannot understand how you cannot relate to the emotional trauma of
>
Howl! How can you possibly not want to
howl yourself? Life is a howl.
> I
would urge you to start to howl. Find
it inside of yourself.
>
The rhythm of Ginsberg's poetry is the rhythm of life in America today.
>
When you say that "I think that Howl and many of his major works...are
>
limited, and honestly will end up, not as the major voice of the 20th c.,
>
but a voice of a period for a particular subsect of the population," I
>
have to wonder how much of Ginsberg you have read. He was a major voice
> in
the twentieth century but he obviously did not take poetry in the
>
direction you want it to go.
>
>
You are reading beat literature but you don't really see it as enduring.
> Only time will tell. I for one think it
will. But for that to happen
>
beat literature has to keep being published, being taught in schools and
>
colleges all over this country equally, so that people continue to read
>
it, and whole new generations of writers develop their own voices from
>
the influences of the beats.
>
> I
seriously want to know what path your line of thought takes in terms of
>
twentieth century poetry. You
mentioned, "I am awed by Plath, Sexton,
>
Rich, Bishop, Levertov, Walker...Women with strong voices, writing on
>
issues that concern not only women, but humanity." What did these women
>
say that inspired you in a way that Ginsberg does not? The confessional
>
mode of writing is a uniquely twentieth century development but although
>
Plath and Sexton got their concerns out in words, it did not, could not,
>
save their own lives. I don't think
that their writing will stand the
>
test of time. Do you?
> DC
About
the women standing the test of time...you or someone had asked
what
was the most significant development/work of the 20th C....I think
that
the voices as a whole is the most significant development...
Perhaps
as individuals they may not endure...but they spoke up and wrote
from a
perspective that had been long neglected.
I see it as the most
significant
development...because I project that women will dominate
literature
in the 21st C.... at least in America.
As for
literature saving lives...I have never once thought it was the
purpose. I have never read literature, or chosen
literature, on that
basis. My life has not needed saving...and I'm not
sure a poet is the
one for
the job if it were the case. I'm
actually not even concerned
about
literature as therapy. I am much more
concerned with the
expression
of ideas and how well ideas conveyed
through
devices/technique. A good idea should be expressed in a way
that is
beyond
compare...perfectly suited... an astounding
synthesis of sound
and
meaning .
As for
howling....no thank you. At times I do
feel the need to applaud
and
cheer... but howl, no. If I don't like
my life or situation, I do
something
to change it. And...we are from
different worlds....I've
always
been very lucky in many aspects. I've attended great schools,
always
had diverse interests...extremely active in dance and
sports....and
if I want to get high...I run in the desert or push
physical
endurance somehow. I do not glamourize
drug use nor condone it
in any
fashion. I honestly think the beats
were great
experimenters...and
some truly were on quests, but their lives are
tragic
as a whole. (and where many thought
they had attained
enlightenment...or
epiphanies...they were just spewing the frazzled
synaptic
mishaps of an overdose... It does NOT make for great art. When
I read
poetry where the poet is obviously wacked, I think "junk"
...not
revolutionary, novel, genius driven art)
Ok *grin*...everyone
jump on
me now.....
Barb
=========================================================================
Date: Tue, 24 Jun 1997 06:17:07 +1100
Reply-To: Duncan Gray <duncang@ENTO.CSIRO.AU>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Duncan Gray
<duncang@ENTO.CSIRO.AU>
Subject: the last time i committed suicide.
Mime-Version:
1.0
Content-Type:
text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
The
character Keanu plays, called Harry is, as far as I can tell, not
totally
based on one real person. At the end of
the movie Harry convinces
Neal to
drink with him. This is what Neal's
step brother did in the "great
sex
letter" (The one that starts off "To have seen a specter isn't
everything..) At the beginning of the movie Harry is as
you described,
Neal's
pool buddy.
Duncan
<Date: Fri, 6 Jun 1997 13:53:39 +0800
From: Sharon Ngiam <mimosa@PACIFIC.NET.SG>
Subject:
the last time i committed suicide.
hi, in
the 'last time i committed suicide' (the one abt neal), who does
keanu
reeves portray?
it says
in my local mag that keanu plays the 'buddy he (neal) hangs out
with,
drinking beer, shooting pool." who's that?
thanks
a lot. btw, is it worth watching?>
s.*
------------------------------------------------------------------.o0
Duncan
Gray
Stored
Grain Research Laboratory
CSIRO
Entomology, GPO Box 1700, Canberra ACT 2601
Ph.
(06) 246 4178 Fax (06) 246 4202
----------------------------------------------------------------------
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:42:57 -0400
Reply-To: Marie Countryman
<country@SOVER.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Marie Countryman
<country@SOVER.NET>
Subject: Re: Drugs & Spontaneity
In-Reply-To: <33AD8260.307C@discovland.net>
Mime-Version:
1.0
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This is
a good issue for discussion. Spontaneous writing . . . there is
definately
a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the
discipline
of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.
When
the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing
else to
do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his
language
that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,
then
stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.
________
this is
exactly what i am finding out. as i can 'trip' w/o the chemicals,
due to
having a somewhat cracked and multi-faceted mind and world view,
also as
one who has tripped as well for the experience of opening the doors
of
perception, i write down madly all that i thought all that has happened
all the
memories,
first
in prose
then in
verse
again
again again rehearse by pruning the garden and pulling the weeds out
of
the cracks in the eternal sidewalk, etc
etc
also
have found a wonderful editor on this list (who will remain nameless
to protect
her from burial under poems, unless s/he decides to uncloak.)
mc
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:43:01 -0400
Reply-To: Marie Countryman
<country@SOVER.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Marie Countryman
<country@SOVER.NET>
Subject: Re: corso(was lies, againg, and all that
existential angst)
In-Reply-To: <33AE2012.1416@together.net>
Mime-Version:
1.0
Content-Type:
text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
someone
somewhere in the endless scrolled message on this topic of
lies/aging
etc
said
that he wanted to know more about this 'corso guy' who is a poet who
at
times dons the gonzo poet cap just as HST is gonzo journalism. i highly
recommend
_elegiac feelings american_ to you, also, my favorite poem about
marriage
and, in
meantime here is a more reflective corso piece:
HELLO
it is
disastrous to be a wounded deer.
i'm the
most wounded, wolves stalk,
and i
have my failures, too.
my
flesh is caught on the inevitable hook!
as i
child i saw many things i did not want to be.
Am i
the person i did not want to be?
that
talks-to-himself person?
that -
neighbours make-fun-of person?
am i he
who, on museum steps, sleeps on his side?
do i
wear the cloth of a man who has failed?
am i
the looney man?
in the
great serenade of things,
am i the most cancelled passage?
_______
pome
from elegaic feelings:
TWO
WEATHER VANES
On the
very top of St. Chapel there is a gold chicken
And
next to it, on the point of a cone tower, there's a black
boat-
Whenever
the wind sails the boat toward the chicken
Clouds
crash, and it rains, snows
And
fogs, chimney pots, steeples, gargoyles sag like honey
-Hooray!
In fact all Paris
looks like a dropped plate of
lumpy oatmeal
______
happy
trails to you
mc
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:51:00 -0400
Reply-To: Marie Countryman
<country@SOVER.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Marie Countryman
<country@SOVER.NET>
Subject: Re: forlorn rags of growing old
In-Reply-To: <l03020901afd3a13e7879@[198.5.212.63]>
Mime-Version:
1.0
Content-Type:
text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
(apologies
in advance if this had already been posted to list, sometimes
this
list feels like i'm playing jeopardy, to hit the send button (buzzer)
before
the next member)
I grow old...I grow old...
I shall
wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled,
Shall I
part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall
wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the
beach
I have
heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do
not think they will sing to me.
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:23:23 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: Re: Drugs & Spontaneity
MIME-Version:
1.0
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Marie
Countryman wrote:
>
>
This is a good issue for discussion. Spontaneous writing . . . there is
>
definately a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the
>
discipline of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.
>
When the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing
>
else to do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his
>
language that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,
>
then stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.
>
________
>
this is exactly what i am finding out. as i can 'trip' w/o the chemicals,
>
due to having a somewhat cracked and multi-faceted mind and world view,
>
also as one who has tripped as well for the experience of opening the doors
> of
perception, i write down madly all that i thought all that has happened
>
all the memories,
>
first in prose
>
then in verse
>
again again again rehearse by pruning the garden and pulling the weeds out
> of
the cracks in the eternal sidewalk, etc
etc
>
also have found a wonderful editor on this list (who will remain nameless
> to
protect her from burial under poems, unless s/he decides to uncloak.)
> mc
it
seems that the bursting muse does not pay much attention to linear
time. if one spontaneously writes in one sitting
about a
phenomenological
event, it will appear as only a glance and not the full
spectacle
of whatever it is. another layer of
spontaneity within and
around
the original produces additional glances.
it is never possible
to
present the spectacle to the reader but more layers connected to the
muse
will certainly make the event appear far more present. for me the
editing
is primarily adding more flowers in the garden. the pruning is
more
like picking nose hairs.
david
rhaesa
salina,
Kansas
p.s.
Salina Journal has a nice piece about Ginsberg tribute in LA this
morning
nice big picture of Anne Waldman and some basic information. i
imagine
i'll write and add a few tidbits. it
might be nice for Salina
to know
that more than just one tribute has happened since April.
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 08:36:02 -0400
Reply-To: Marioka7@AOL.COM
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Maya Gorton <Marioka7@AOL.COM>
Subject: Re: who was around in the 60's?
Comments:
To: danneman@update.uu.se
In a
message dated 97-06-21 06:46:57 EDT, you write:
<<
Sara Feustle wrote:
>
> I myself am a whopping 21, and I am
soooooo pissed off about all the stuff
> I missed for being born so late!!!!
Anybody else in the same predicament?
I am 23 and yes I am pissed, thinking about
all that I missed. I'm also
annoyed being born so early. Imagine what I
won't see in the future.
Still I wouldn't like to see myself in the
mirror at the age of 200. I'd
be reeeally ugly. So all things considered,
I'm happy.
-daniel
>>
I don't
get it. I sed i was 22 before, but i
don't feel like i should have
been
born earlier or later. I feel JUST
right. I guess knowing that i was a
gangsta
chick in 1940's Chicago in my previous life helps. I didn't miss a
thing. It's all happening NOW as far as i'm
concerned. Sara---just think,
in a
few years, you'll be saggy and wrinkly so enjoy yerself now, while you
can
still get some!
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 08:37:41 -0400
Reply-To: Sara Feustle
<sfeustl@UOFT02.UTOLEDO.EDU>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Sara Feustle
<sfeustl@UOFT02.UTOLEDO.EDU>
Subject: Re: Drugs & Spontaneity
Comments:
To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
In-Reply-To: <33AE6ABB.7429@midusa.net>
MIME-version:
1.0
Content-type:
text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
At
07:23 AM 6/23/97 -0500, RACE --- wrote:
>Marie
Countryman wrote:
>>
>>
This is a good issue for discussion. Spontaneous writing . . . there is
>>
definately a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the
>>
discipline of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.
>>
When the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing
>>
else to do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his
>>
language that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,
>>
then stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.
>>
________
>>
this is exactly what i am finding out. as i can 'trip' w/o the chemicals,
>>
due to having a somewhat cracked and multi-faceted mind and world view,
>>
also as one who has tripped as well for the experience of opening the doors
>>
of perception, i write down madly all that i thought all that has happened
>>
all the memories,
>>
first in prose
>>
then in verse
>>
again again again rehearse by pruning the garden and pulling the weeds out
>>
of the cracks in the eternal sidewalk,
etc etc
>>
also have found a wonderful editor on this list (who will remain nameless
>>
to protect her from burial under poems, unless s/he decides to uncloak.)
>>
mc
>
>it
seems that the bursting muse does not pay much attention to linear
>time. if one spontaneously writes in one sitting
about a
>phenomenological
event, it will appear as only a glance and not the full
>spectacle
of whatever it is. another layer of
spontaneity within and
>around
the original produces additional glances.
it is never possible
>to
present the spectacle to the reader but more layers connected to the
>muse
will certainly make the event appear far more present. for me the
>editing
is primarily adding more flowers in the garden. the pruning is
>more
like picking nose hairs.
>
>david
rhaesa
>salina,
Kansas
>
>p.s.
Salina Journal has a nice piece about Ginsberg tribute in LA this
>morning
nice big picture of Anne Waldman and some basic information. i
>imagine
i'll write and add a few tidbits. it
might be nice for Salina
>to
know that more than just one tribute has happened since April.
Some of
us can "trip" on our own body chemistry. Speaking from experience,
that
sort of spontanaeity is better than that obtained from any drug. --Sara
>
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 08:39:01 -0400
Reply-To: Marioka7@AOL.COM
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List"
<BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Maya Gorton <Marioka7@AOL.COM>
Subject: Re: More Beat films...
Comments:
To: stutz@dsl.org
check
out Mystic Fire Video, at:
http://mosaic.echonyc.com/~mysticfire/index.html
they
are a great source of Burroughs and other beat-related stuffs.
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 08:52:53 -0400
Reply-To: Marie Countryman
<country@SOVER.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: Marie Countryman
<country@SOVER.NET>
Subject: Re: corso(was lies, againg, and all that
existential angst)
In-Reply-To: <33AE6B65.47C2@midusa.net>
Mime-Version:
1.0
Content-Type:
text/plain; charset="us-ascii"
>Marie
Countryman wrote:
>>
>>
someone somewhere in the endless scrolled message on this topic of
>>
lies/aging etc
>>
said that he wanted to know more about this 'corso guy' who is a poet who
>>
at times dons the gonzo poet cap just as HST is gonzo journalism. i highly
>>
recommend _elegiac feelings american_ to you, also, my favorite poem about
>>
marriage
>>
and, in meantime here is a more reflective corso piece:
>>
HELLO
>>
it is disastrous to be a wounded deer.
>>
i'm the most wounded, wolves stalk,
>>
and i have my failures, too.
>>
my flesh is caught on the inevitable hook!
>>
as i child i saw many things i did not want to be.
>>
Am i the person i did not want to be?
>>
that talks-to-himself person?
>>
that - neighbours make-fun-of person?
>>
am i he who, on museum steps, sleeps on his side?
>>
do i wear the cloth of a man who has failed?
>>
am i the looney man?
>>
in the great serenade of things,
>> am i the most cancelled passage?
>>
_______
>>
pome from elegaic feelings:
>>
TWO WEATHER VANES
>>
On the very top of St. Chapel there is a gold chicken
>>
And next to it, on the point of a cone tower, there's a black
>> boat-
>>
Whenever the wind sails the boat toward the chicken
>>
Clouds crash, and it rains, snows
>>
And fogs, chimney pots, steeples, gargoyles sag like honey
>>
-Hooray! In fact all Paris
>> looks like a dropped plate of
lumpy oatmeal
>>
______
>>
happy trails to you
>
=========================================================================
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:53:10 -0500
Reply-To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Sender: "BEAT-L: Beat Generation
List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>
From: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>
Subject: [Fwd: letter to editor - 'Howl' poet's
life celebrated]
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i'll
enjoy seeing what if anything gets off the cutting room floor.
a bit
self-serving i just hope they don't print my damn address.
david
rhaesa
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Date:
Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:45:52 -0500
From:
RACE --- <race@midusa.net>
X-Mailer:
Mozilla 3.01Gold (Win95; I)
MIME-Version:
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To:
SJLetters@saljournal.com
Subject:
letter to editor - 'Howl' poet's life celebrated
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i loved
the photograph of Anne Waldman at the Los Angeles tribute. i
understand
she is still connected to teaching at the Jack Kerouac school
of
Disembodied Poetics on Arapahoe in the Denver/Boulder area. One can
see
that she would be a naturally gifted teacher of the creative arts.
this
Los Angeles tribute is by far not the first commemorative
celebration
of Allen's influence on America. last
spring a boy wanted
to read
'Howl' in his high school as a commemoration.
the authorities
offered
that he would be suspended. he said
suspend me. and according
to
rumor a ton of letters from Howlers across America hit the mail boxes
of the
local authorities. the young man was
allowed to read the poem.
shortly
after Ginsberg's death a memorial was held at St. Marks in New
York
City. the images i've read about that
service are powerful. the
strongest
is of Patti Smith singing the old Hank Williams' mourning
song,
"I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry."
Numerous
web pages have memorialized Ginsberg.
The one i'm most
familiar
with is Levi Asher's "Literary Kicks" which is also a great
source
for additional information about Ginsberg.
He catalogued the
mourning
which took place on the BeatGeneration Listserv after the news
of
Allen's passing. One writer named
Charley Plymell that you will find
in
Levi's memorial, from the Wichita area and now in Cherry Valley New
York,
lived here in salina for a time in 1949, drove a Cadillac and
remembers
the Fox Theatre. This local boy's name
can be found there as
well. Anyone interested the slightest in learning
about Beat Generation
literature,
culture or biographical sketches should begin at Literary
Kicks
with Levi's work. He also seems to be a
very nice guy in the
letters
i've received from him.
Another
tribute was held in Venice California on May 10th. One of the
readings
was an experimental cyberspace explosion of Ginsberg's "On
Burroughs
Work". The collaboration was
printed by Rose of Sharon Press
of Los
Angeles. I believe the copies were all
given away free that
night
at Beyond Baroque in L.A.
Also
Ginsberg tributes are coming out of the woodwork in small poetry
magazines
around the country and in Canada. One
magazine named Second
Beat
out of Mississippi or Alabama somewhere is apparently printing my
Ginsberg
tribute titled "Salina, Kansas" in there next edition.
Ginsberg
will be remembered for many many things and probably despised
for
many as well. what is clear to me from
my interactions with
individuals
who knew the man is that he might best be remembered as a
teacher
of the poetry of life.
david
rhaesa
salina,
Kansas
[telephone
823-7969]
[ edit
however you feel appropriate ]
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