What a relief. Yesterday was nothing but rancour, opportunistic
bitterness, and predictable scorn which perhaps I don't need to come
flashing regularly across my desktop.
I agree with Peter Riley in his charges of "conformism, smug know-all
superiority, and opportunistic careerism" in the smaller set. This is often
an effective resource for announcements, considered reviews, and
Perhaps as often it's a trough for jealous recriminations, exploiting the
captivity of the audience (perhaps the only one you ever get) and its
invisibility to launch invectives which can usually be explained either
--as some token self-legitimisation against the big literary history eraser
which, you know, is coming for you.
Of course, the considered opinion flares up, but isn't it easy to knock off
a bit o' work with your soundbite. The performance bears striking
resemblance to that State of the Union speech/rally I watched this week.
Under the blazon of democratic participation, media performances mostly
governed and there was always the lurking opportunity to whip up an
alien enemy when you were losing the argument.
It's with complete cognizance of my own impeachability, so unlike my
fearless leader, that I have to make at least the passing comment on
remarks made about my partner Keston's poetry yesterday. Sorry, KS.
My relation perhaps balances out with a slight expertise, as I have been
reading Keston's poems for several years now, and concentrated on
The violence with which some of his poems attack ethical equililbrium
cannot be ignored, and neither do his poems request a cynical
desensitization. This violence is coupled with extraordinary lyric power
and a commitment to investigation of politic which makes much of what
I've read, even amongst us, seem like so much decorative styling of
derivative tripe bandied back towards its founders.
For example, out of medium, and my bone to perpetually prick: compare
the sanctimony of feminist, or at least gender-friendly, claims on this list (I
don't mean anything towards real life personalities, almost all of which I
don't know) to the actual participation by women.
What's more, Keston's poetry is characterized by a philosophical
inventiveness which may scare off the more mentally timid, or those who
resist the convergence of difficult style with difficult ideas.
That isn't, certainly, the last word, and given the amount of Keston's
work posted and ignored on this station, I hope it won't be here.
Natheless, I thought some defense of his actually admirable capabilities
might be necessary as few people will have had the resources at hand
to disprove Ira's bash personally.
And, given Ira's entrance to this list some months ago, blushing and
glowing over the outpouring of human warmth and defense of his poem
against some allegation of its crapness, I thought it only fair. I don't know
anything about Ira's work except for his reading during the RemPress
series, which was definitely sub-par.
Signing permanently and voluntarily off,