The art of writing

Can one achieve art by writing for a few minutes, hours, daysand days?  Can it be art if it's like the tree that falls before no one else's eyes?  Can my eyes see my own artfulness?  Can I trust what I see?

These questions pester my pondering, painful approach to getting something accomplished in this write-a-thon.  The mountain of doubt I live on is suddenly evident and no longer hidden beneath the daily plod.

So far, I've restructured the meaning of one of my poems and started a short story.  But having done so I don't feel the wonder I expected.  What did I expect?

Better yet, what am I getting?  See the above AND add a wonderful sense of collegiality from Facebook convivialities.  I've already been to Kississame, FL and back, sent photos, seen pictures of the faces whose writings I intend to meet.  And don't forget, Nicola, man we all owe her a beer or two.  Okay, so things aren't so bad and I've written and thought about what to write for three days.

What I expected is this feeling of failing I sometimes find my self . . .

Second day blues

A problem identified is a problem solved.  I read too much, too fast, digest, regress, too much.

Don't ask me not to tell . . .

Two things: First, T and I are watching Glee while discussing the recent stay of the military's Don't Ask, Don't Tell rule. She said she understood the reluctance to change the rule since the idea of "rude sex" as she called it was still hard for her to stomach. My usual counter to this is to point out the flaw in taking the word of this "christian" based hypocrisy as accurate because it has no basis in fact. This discussion took us our usual direction until we reached the point in the show where Kirt sings his duet from both sides. Watch the episode and you'll see what I mean.

Second, I just finished reading Sara Paretsky's, Body Work. If you haven't read it yet be advised that one or two of the main characters are lesbians and there is quite a bit of criticism directed towards the ongoing war in Iraq.

Which lead me to the third thing: The thing that is really wrong about this whole policy. We, by implementing this rule, are asking our soldiers to, if they are gay, lesbian, or tran, to actually go it alone. No loved ones to talk them through the fear, no helpmate to share the constant stress, no outlet, except a secret and stressfilled one, to let them make it through the fight. It is wrong to ask this of anyone who is in a war.

What is being constantly demonstrated in the real world, outside the military base, is that we as a culture are discovering that honesty and openess about our sexuality is good not bad or dangerous as those military geniuses would have us believe. What is being demonstated by our country's reluctance to change this policy is our own fear of the other, and how this fear makes us blind to the very real effect that this policy does have on the ones we are asking to go it alone.

Thelonius and Monks in general

The strangest thing happened the other day. My youngest son chose this blog to break radio silence by telling of his new interest in reading the biography of Thelonious Monk. My son plays guitar. Rock n Roll, and Country Rock too. I thought. But things change and certainly it is possible that for some reason so has he. Monk of course is a fascinating subject to study if you are a musician. Especially a self taught one like my son. Wikipedia had this to say:

Thelonious Sphere Monk[1] (October 10, 1917 – February 17, 1982) was an American jazz pianist and composer who, according to The Penguin Guide to Jazz, was "one of the giants of American music".[2] Monk had a unique improvisational style and made numerous contributions to the standard jazz repertoire, including "Epistrophy," "'Round Midnight," "Blue Monk," "Straight, No Chaser" and "Well, You Needn't."

Often regarded as a founder of bebop, Monk's playing later evolved away from that style. His compositions and improvisations are full of dissonant harmonies and angular melodic twists, and are impossible to separate from Monk's unorthodox approach to the piano, which combined a highly percussive attack with abrupt, dramatic use of silences and hesitations.

Monk's manner was idiosyncratic. Visually, he was renowned for his distinctively "hip" sartorial style in suits, hats and sunglasses. He was also noted for the fact that at times, while the other musicians in the band continued playing, he would stop, stand up from the keyboard and dance for a few moments before returning to the piano. One of his regular dances consisted of continuously turning in a counterclockwise fashion, which has drawn comparisons to ring-shout and Sufi whirling.

Which brings me to the other strange thing. Buddhism. I love the story telling skill of John Burdett and his mysteries of Bangkok. I just started reading the fourth in his series, The Godfather of Kathmandu.

How this all comes together with my son's visit, I'll have to let you know.

Waiting for Godot . . .

I always remember the first time I saw this play. Lakeside, CA 1969, Cathy Fogerty and I team teaching and deciding that there was much to be learned from Beckett's play. But I hadn't seen the play, I had just the synopsis from Cathy and she seemed to think it had merit. So it starts. Oh, did I mention we were watching it via a video taped copy from KPBS? And it starts, and starts and starts again. And we are all like waiting, you know, for something to happen.

I think I read Joseph Heller's, Something Happened, at about this same time period. Anyway, nothing much occured. Just us, waiting for some dude named Godot (pronounced Goh-Do) never comes. Kinda' like the end of this fucking war in Iraqistan.

Which reminds me of what was said, "The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener."

Our own little tea party

Why not, I woke up thinking. Why not form our own little version of the tea party movement? We are certainly fed up enough. We are certainly done with trying to cooperate while we are asked to wait. We do have a real agenda of concerns that need to be acted on. So why the hell not?





But first, lets go see what the tea party network is already doing. I took the time to join up and then look around, starting with the ning network guidelines where I found the following strictures against posting:

in a manner that is libelous or defamatory, or in a way that is otherwise
threatening, abusive, violent, harassing, malicious or harmful to any person or
entity, or invasive of another's privacy;

in a manner that is harmful to minors in any way;

in a manner that is hateful or discriminatory based on race, color, sex,
religion, nationality, ethnic or national origin, marital status, disability,
sexual orientation or age or is otherwise objectionable.

And yet, at the Tea Party site there were quite a few malicious and harmful videos and comments being posted. Hmmm. I guess I'll be seeing if the taplin blog got it right when he suggested the Republican Tea Party is a closed movement.

Meanwhile, back to my original thought. Why not do our own tea party thing? I think a full page ad in the LA Times would be a great place to start. I'll be back when I find out how much that would cost and if the Times guidelines would restrict us saying what we want to say.

Little Bee, two

So I finished the story and I was gratified by the discovery that the tale was well told. Little Bee and Charlie and Sarah and Lawrence and all the bit players from soldier/killers to killers/antiimmigrantracists rang true. We do live in a world where harm blends with happiness and where courage is used to face every new day. We live in a world where a fellow like President Obama, who professes to want to end war, can continue the war in Afghanistan. We live in a world where neocons can disrupt town halls but protesters can't parade any where near a political convention. We live in a world where the banks have the money, get the money, make the money and the people don't. We live in a world where despite all of that a story like Little Bee can end with hope for a new tomorrow and Rambo can finally go home.

Little Bee

I am a firm believer in the serendipitous. So I find it no coincidence that last night while perusing the tv menu, T and I came across a Sylvester Stallone flick and began to watch it. We are North Americans after all and violence on film attracts us. We love to watch the Die Hard series, and this one, was a Rambo though we were sure we had never seen it before. For one thing Rambo looked old and for another, Julie Benz from Dexter was playing the love interest. But it wasn't til after the destruction of the village scene that I felt compelled to find out when and for that matter what this movie was called. 2008 and Rambo. So it was the comeback film we had heard about but weren't able to see in the theater.

But back to the scene. One moment, it's Doctors without Borders doing their thing in a sleepy jungle village and the next it is a war zone filled with flying bodies, burning huts, raped women and total wanton destruction. Too real, too realistic. T and I looked at each other and asked why would any human being do that to another? What reason could they have? Religious belief, a village built on top of valuable oil, political disagreement, or just destruction because they could?

Which brings me to Little Bee, Chris Cleave's 2008 novel about two women who meet through the happenstance of war, one from Nigeria and the other from England. I am half way through the story but still, here come the same questions, why and how can this be happening in the same world where T and I sit and watch Sly retaliate with more than equal violence?

Is it because we sit and watch? The Rambo film is simplistic in its answer. "You can't change anything.", he says. Cleave on the other hand maybe going for something different. A subject for my next post.

This from the grass is always greener file

People who can't get married, people who want to get pregnant, people who want Hummers, people who want to own their own home, people who have to see the newest movie, people who use credit cards, people who . . .

And the war goes on . . .

Which war you ask? And I answer. The war that gives those in power the excuse to keep on making war while civilian men, women, and children take the brunt. The war that takes the resources we could use to actually save lives and build a better world and uses them to destroy that world. The war that keeps on creating victims who become soldiers with a reason to hate the world that took away their ordinary life and replaced it with death. The war that the politicos justify by explaining over and over again the amount of fear we need to have of the terrorist tendancies of our enemies. The war that gives all those people who support it jobs and a reason to keep on making war not peace.

Votes don't matter nor voters neither

That is really the only conclusion one can come to after last Friday's election in Iran and then today's approval by the House of a War Spending Bill that includes the following:

"The war spending legislation (just passed by the house) carried a hodgepodge of other provisions, including $5 billion to expand the role of the International Monetary Fund in shoring up the world economy, $1 billion to encourage U.S. consumers to trade in gas-guzzlers for more fuel-efficient new cars, and limits on the administration's ability to bring terrorist suspects from the Guantanamo Bay detention facility in Cuba to the United States."

Politics again rears its ugly head. Trade off the IMF aid for friendly grades from Europe, trade the aid to car manufacturers for seeming to help the auto industry and the consumer, trade the limits on the Admin of Guantanomo for getting the Republicans to pass the IMF part, and trade the Democrats their anti-war feelings for some down the road support from President O.

This isn't what I voted for, hoped for, wanted. But what the hell, I am just one voter.

Public Parks

Here in California this morning the sun is shining and the parks, and the playgrounds, and the beaches are calling and the public is crawling on its new "funemployment" way, only to find that the Non-Girly Man has decided to close them all on this oh so sunny California day.

We are a state in crisis and we've got to crack down or cut back or something else to deal with this crisis or else, he says. So close down the parks, shut down health services, summer schools, even social services for the elderly and the poor. "Cause "God, in his infinite wisdom, knows that these are the things that are dragging us down and holding this great state hostage.

But, you know what? I have a different idea. Lets shut down the whole state. No highway patrol, no colleges, no street repair, no fire fighting, no politicians in their fat little offices deciding the fate of the rest of us. Shut it all down and let's just go to anarchy. It can't be any worse than this living under the constant threat.

But, you know what else? I am still open to other answers. Just drop them in my mailbox. Yes, that's it over there, laying on its side and looking crushed.

If your credit is bad

According to an article in the June 7, LA Times Business section, "The credit report is becoming the latest hurdle for unemployed workers in a dismal U.S. job market. Up to half of employers use credit screening to weed out potentially troublesome hires, though estimates vary, and the practice is on the rise." So a person applying for a job, a person that has been hit by the foreclosure market and the job loss market that has reached 9% and rising has developed a case of a loss in credit status, is that what I'm understanding? Is this supposed to be news?

The article goes on, as though point A leads to point 2, "Money woes could signal disorder in an individual's personal life that could translate into slipshod work habits, some staffing experts said. Companies lose billions annually to employee theft. A sterling credit history, they said, points to a worker who is more likely to be disciplined, trustworthy and reliable." So the workers having lost the home they bought because they thought they were secure in their job which they lost because the company they worked for laid off workers because the company itself had to apply for bankruptcy protection are now suspected thieves?

The fact that the credit industry is in full pull-in-your-head turtle mode apparently doesn't play a part in this analysis either. American Express has recently joined a number of other credit card companies in the following. First, they notify you that your available credit balance has been lowered to just above whatever the current balance is. Then they notify you that because they can, they are raising the interest rate on your current balance by 10 or 15 or, in some cases, 20%. This happens whether you are current and have a great payment history or not. Another company, Advanta, just closed its doors. Toodledoo ducks. And oh by the way, before we go away, you available credit has been lowered because you've had too many inquiries in the last 12 months and (since we lowered your available balance) your accounts are now too close to their limits.

Anyone else sense the circle here. The companies, and not just the ones you give permission to, are checking your credit history. Because you are applying everywhere and anywhere in hopes of landing something, that means a lot of credit checks which means your credit gets lowered and your credit report shows this. Yuck, or that other word that sounds like it but starts with F.

The Lake Show

I am wondering this morning about the reasons why we get connected to a sport team? Why we tie our spirit to their ups and downs? Why we push ourselves to shout at their ineffectiveness's and cheer so loud when they overcome them? Now I am sure that the psychologists have a term for this syndrome, ha! Just like the sport's writer who turns a phrase. But what I don't know yet is if they and I will agree.

Maybe it is tied to the immersion in school spirit we receive as school children. You know what I mean. The school colors, the sense of community gathered around the team that defends our school's honor. Using those terms, honor, the sense of community, school colors, I can see, or rather sense the common thread. But what makes us want to do those things in the first place?

When we move from our home as children, the school out of necessity becomes our second home. We appear to need the stability that comes from knowing our school provides it. There is in this process a shielding effect. Of course, this is on our side.

On the other side lies society as represented by the adults whose power to influence comes from our allegiance to this elevated, and in many senses, created team spirit. In the blogosphere, it has become a very big deal these days to accrue followers and in turn become a follower. Is this just a process?

No, I think it goes back to my earlier questions. It seems to me that at some core level, maybe through evolution even at a genetic level, our sense of fear of the world is what is at play here. Picture the cave man, woman, child. Go see Disney's new film, Earth, if you need a reminder. The world is a cruel and beautiful place, dangerous and unforgiving. We humans have spent, do spend, most of our creative time trying to move away from that fear. We call it civilization.

When we connect with a sport team, we are really combating our oldest fear. That the world is just waiting to eat us as we would eat it if we could.

So what happens to us when Kobe doesn't do his job and protect us by winning the game is really just elemental my dear Watson. The other team is the barbarian at our gate, the tyrannosaurus rex nuzzling our cave door, and the need to escape this threat is just driving us wild. And in this sense, what we lose when they lose, our team that is, is our sense of being safe in the world.

Honesty is the best policy

I say this with full disclosure in mind. I have been a casual user of drugs ever since I graduated from college. By casual, I mean that when I want to relax or spend time on a recreational weekend, a dube is a great way to go. I say this though I actually haven't used any drugs besides Excedrin for the occasional headache and Tylenol for the sinus attacks in quite a while. I say this also because even though I don't actively use, I totally support those who do and admit it. Bill Maher comes to mind, Tommy Chong, and now my personal hero, Nick Diaz.


I have written before about how I feel about people who use and then run away when caught. I have also pointed out the obvious mistake in President Obama's comment that he didn't think that legalizing was the way to go. But this story is just great. Not only does he admit his use and explain how it works, he also talks about how he is going to continue to use it. Meanwhile, the reporter clearly is trying to show all sides but misses an important point when he quotes Nevada State Athletic Commissioner, Keith Kizer. "The drug is banned because of the damage it does to the person taking it. It could make you lethargic, slow your reflexes, and those are dangerous things in a combat sport."

Obviously, the commish never used the drug himself when he argued that Diaz' use of the drug before a fight made him "numb to the pain because of excessive marijuana in his system." What are these commissioners on drugs.

No, that's actually my point. Rather than take a face value the honest information of a real pot user, they always, always, fall back on the "it's illegal" excuse. Well, this time it didn't work. Diaz plans to keep on keepin' on. And I'll toke to that.

The President and the Auto Industry

The news today was cram full of stories about the President's Auto Industry Commission report on what the government expects GM and Chrysler to do if they want to receive any more bailout funds. Straight talk apparently equals government interference according to the Repubs. It was to be expected. The Republicans are looking for any way shape or form that will help them get back the power that the Bush years cost them.

But I think that President Obama and his commission are right on course in this case. The facts stand out. GM and Chrysler are perfect examples of how the power of a monopoly of ideas (free market expansionism and profit first) can be distorted into a disaster. If we had time or were in another place, this situation might be something that could be managed by just letting the hand play out. But, to my mind that just lets the situation, like a bamboo plant, have another chance to do the same thing all over again.

It is time that we all grew up. Teenagers want fast cars. Macho men need Hummers to pose their image. Well-to-do Matrons and their clones have to have fear safe SUVs. But what an adult and intelligent person needs is sensible, affordable transportation. The auto industry has spent years and billions of dollars selling us on the idea that a car is an expression of our personality. Only a kid would believe that. Only a mercenary industry would think that such a morally reprehensible position was right and justified under the free market bannerism of "Caveat Emptor!"

But that is just my opinion. What do you think America, are you ready to give up your toys and grow up?

Politics as usual

I listened with great interest to Mr. Obama's question and answer session last night. I watched it on C Span. I have to say he showed why he can be trusted to think through this ongoing series of events even though I did not always agree with how he answered. I did like, do like, his persistence and the way he used it as the element of his campaign to become president which brought him victory suggests it will serve him well here.

Meanwhile, the clamor of voices trying to be heard about all the very important issues to be resolved does make it difficult to trust that politics as usual isn't hard at work. A politician by nature must please the ones who put it in office first and those general community of voters second. Otherwise, goes the traditional wisdom, the politician won't stay in office long enough to accomplish any work. So along with the "Earmarks" attached to the bills that congress passes, we also should expect the vocal earmarking that allows the politician to broadcast where his or her loyalties lie.

They say in real estate that its location, location, location and in business that there's no such thing as bad pub. Well, the same thing appears to be the play in politics. Which brings me back to Mr. Obama.

Every time he chose to use the code words, healthcare, energy, and education, I found myself questioning his answer. What I find difficult to hear when somone uses code is what their real motive is. Just like when a questioner asked him about China by including the phrase, a communist government, and I immediately wondered about the motive behind the question.

So this brings me back to this question, was this Q & A just politics as usual?

Goodbye Galactica, Hello Earth . . .

Do you believe in second chances? Does starting over appeal? This question posed supposes the weariness of human kind with the struggle, with the constant wars over who's the right, with the weight of all of our accomplishments and, with the answer still somewhere out there in our stars.



So, was it a trick ending? A St. Elsewhere snow globe in a child's hand? Who knows? Have we been here or somewhere else like this before? God's plan - we start in a garden and end with ruins. The Statue of Liberty lying in the sand.



You know there is some truth to the weariness thing. I know I am tired of our failure to reason out a way for us all to live with just enough and no more. Tired to the death with the constant tearing down, the constant obstinacy of politics.

Battlestar Galactica not hope just dreams.

Barry Eisler

Is well-known for his John Rain novels, but he has come up with a new novel and a new take on the thriller/spy game novel in his most recent book, Fault Line. It is a quick and still fairly deep read into the minds of those who play the patriot game in our country. And as the title implies, it an enjoyable walk along the fault line between good and evil, moral and immoral, and brother and brother. Alex Treven is a lawyer working his way up the corporate chain, his brother Ben is a mercenary working for a shadowy government agency fighting in the current war on terror. An encryption program working it's way through the patent process provides the tremor that reveals the cracks in both sides of these brother's lives. Sarah Hosseini, an Iranian-American lawyer working with Alex and Ben's boss, Hort, add the complexity to the plot that brings us quickly into the story.





If you are used to John Rain's inner search for meaning even as he plots his next assassination then Ben will be no puzzle to you. Alex, however, is a bird with different feathers. His voice is the one we all need to hear. The one that speaks to our puzzlement at how the war against terrorists has turned into a war against the very freedoms we hold so dear.

For example, the decision of the Supreme Court, split 5-4, to allow private citizens to abide by the constitution’s authorization to own guns for self-defense via the 2nd Amendment is echoing through the corridors of power like a tommy-gun gone berserk. Gun nuts are delirious even though they had probably already broken existing laws and owned guns. Anti-abortionists, many of them gun owners and ready to shoot first and wonder what about god’s plan later, were ecstatic because Roe vs Wade could only be next. I guess it’s lucky for Pro-Choicers that there isn’t an Amendment that directly applies. Meanwhile, Charlton Heston doesn’t have to turn over in his grave, and of course, school children are now much safer in Utah where their parents can now pack quick draw sidearms openly.



Still, with all the amusement that this decision provides me, I am personally ambivalent towards this issue. I don’t live in a neighborhood where armed thugs drive the streets. I don’t spend time in the post office or at local colleges or at the Mall where people apparently most like to go berserk. Will I feel safer knowing that most likely my neighbors now have guns to go along with their security cameras and purses filled with mace? I don’t think so. Will I buy a gun myself? Not yet.



To me this is just another sign that in America we are less safe than ever. As individuals in the country that is famous for allowing us to be independent, we are subject to search and seizure at any moment in the name of security. The newest and hottest job (see the ads on your own TV) is joining a security company. Security is an industry in a country that apparently feels so insecure it goes crazy with happiness over being allowed to bear arms. Ah yes, happiness is a warm gun.

Meanwhile back in the novel world of Barry Eisler these issues are brought into focus as betrayal follows betrayal and both brothers find themselves up against silent agencies that somehow have become the way our country is being run.

Cowboy Poetry

Home on the range, and Bob Wills' Swing and the idea that in 1985 when times were tough "a group of folklorists launched the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko," Nevada, all came together this week for me as I read my Thursday morning LA Times.

"Stock Exchange" to them is to trade a horse or cow:

their market is the Sale Barn while on Wall Street it's the
"Dow."

There's never been a program to bail out the livestock man;

when things get tough their motto is to "Hang on if you can!"

Yvonne Hollenbeck draws praise for her stance and applause for her words but I wonder if she appreciates the irony of her case? There are over 2 million definitions and examples for irony available through a Google search but I like this one from Wikipedia, "ironic - Both coincidental and contradictory in a humorous or poignant and extremely improbable way" because it lays out for me the simple truth behind the poems that took the day at this year's convention.

I can appreciate that when she says we are all, the independent individuals that make up the working class, heart of America, in this together, and then sets up an us versus them scenario. The question is though, who is them? For that matter, who is us?

Remember in the 80's when the markets were so low,

and interest hit an all-time high?

There was no bailout dough.

Half the farms and ranches were foreclosed on and were lost;

no bail-out plan was offered and the small towns bore the cost.

Then more were lost in '96 when blizzards swept the range

and then came several years of drought but still there was no
change

in attitudes in Washington, they didn't even seem to care,

I doubt they even knew there was a problem way out there.

So there's Them - the rich-don't-tax-me one percentile. The Mega-corporations that get to act and be taxed like an individual but really are made up of thousands of individuals backed by thousands more stock holders, etc., etc., . . . The "Stock Market" whatever that means. The banks, the politicos, the war-mongerers that put us into a three trillion dollar war. Both political parties who let thirty years of de-regulated "free marketeering" go on and on and on. The real estate gurus, Trump and Kiyosaki, et al, who advised everyone who would buy into their program to USE OTHER people's money (read borrow to gain leverage to the hilt).



And then Us - The more than 16 million unemployed. The single farmer/rancher/employee/independent contractor/small business owner losing dollars by the day as the economy tanks. The fifty-five percent of the voters who put Obama in office to stem the tide and change the circumstance and believe in the hope of a turn around.

Well, here's the irony in that folks. This is exactly the fertile ground in which the hate-mongerers like Limbaugh and Coulter plant and grow their seeds of distrust. Right there in the interstice between the way we feel and who we blame for it.

No one helped/helps me cries the farmer/rancher/little guys and girls/finacially crushed US.

So don't help anyone else. Leave my tax money in my hands and I'll figure out how to make it through to next year.

Yet, in cities folks buy houses that are bigger than our barns,

when they cna't make their payments, Congress says, "Well, darn!

We'll gather up some billions so they can pay their debt,

and let their dandy banker get his biggest bonus yet!"

And as true as that is, it is also false because the irony is that the farmers and rancher weren't immune to this financial bubble's lure. They too bought into the big pile of manure.



The final irony, the very reason people need help is the very reason they won't get it. 'Cause, as Bill Maher has often pointed out, we quite often have demonstrated a mind-boggling ability to vote against ourselves. The Black Swan effect to the max.