The Left Column

Politics for Poets

The Story Factory!

I've got a kind of story factory concept going on which I started to do when I read that the smart writer sells the story before he/she writes it (from a book on 'successful' writing, I don't have the source, but I can find it if anyone needs it). Dashiell Hammett, I believe, never wrote another word after he got his big advance. So there is a tradition for writers doing that kind of thing: selling the story when it doesn't yet exist in novelized form.

Dashiell was kind of a drinker, I suppose the polite way that the story-writer drinkers (drunks) like to call the type who drinks a very lot is 'dissapate', which is a kinder word. There is nothing kind about dying from the effects of alcohol when they are so easily avoided by not drinking. But that doesn't give respect to the person or fear to the disease. The person who says that kind of a statement in public is one who does not have the disease of the craving (for 'liquid refreshment').

Some people think that there is some kind of romance in being a drunkard like this, and that 'great' novelists are often that so, good thing. Drink up, let's do it. But I say that the affliction might be common among writers because the affliction is just common, in the first place. A writer with a side income from a 'great novel' or whatever fortune he/she acquired, is able to live that drink-up, let's do it now, drink up kind of life and he/she has the money to back up the call for 'drinks on the house'. And doesn't that sound like 'arriving' to some pup of a writer who is wishing to be like his/her idle and become a 'great' writer. The romance of Key West. Havana during the revolution. Wearing a 'Che' tee-shirt unaware how much some people hated him for good reason, and thus bringing possible curses from those opposed to the regime in Cuba, or just over-bearing social-leftist-neuevo-rich-aristocracy.

When accessing this ask the question: is it that great writers are great drinkers? Or is it that great writers become wealthy. Wealthy are better able to lead the lie of the drinky-drinky life. So the question to ask is if the drinking is part of the success of the writer because he/she is wealthy? If one compared the rate of alcoholism between other wealthy and the ones who get there because of writing, then one would have a kind-of answer to this question. The answer is one that I suggest still be seen like , 'gee, whatever', like most sociology should be seen: 'yes it is useful but it is not absolute.'

My guess: the rate of crazy drink-and-may-the-party-never-end alcoholism is at the same rate among the same class of people regardless of weather a man/woman is a writer or not. I don't know this to be true. I find it rediculous to commision a study to find out. I would like to say that future writers ought to consider that just because a great writer has a disease, in this case alcholism, that disease is not what made that person a great writer.

But people will say , oh, ya, it gives them life experience. they are just cowardly fearful fortunate child at the art college until they give in to the pushing and urging of their dorm and fraternity mates. 'drink drink drink drink'. And then people who should know better glorify it in a movie which really does show that it's not so great to live like that. Listen: the stuff in movies or videos is staged. Porn, or movies made by National Lampoon or Judd Apataw are supposed to be outrageous and over the top. The stuff that you see does not really happen and you, as a patron of that art, are supposed to know that it isn't real. But we don't

When you are young you are hormone enhanced. There are urges that your body wants to give into. There is a higher mind that says 'no, study langague and art and music and film, learn engineering and baseball and become expert in archery, learn how to ballance tires without a pencil and a a piece of paper and a jack-stand, visit the worlds great capital, learn how to build box-girder bridges (a Monty Python reverence). But then we start to learn languages and we see how many words there are for parts of the human ananitmy. We read History and we find that great generals were also often grand drunkards. And that the advent of alchol enhanced drinks allowed for providing micrope free beverages. It was a boon to health in one sense, and a detriment in another. We study literature and art and we see that the themes often involve violence, betrayal, revelry, romance. We can't write an effective love story without ever having been in love.

But I submit that the 'try it once' way is a way of failure. There are some things that you shouldn't try. The experience isn't really high. It may arc up but it's heading down. The net effect will be the constant frown that you will often see around as your jonesing in the street and in the town for a little bit of powder and a spoon. You don't even care about the moon aglow and off across that great city of yours, that beautiful city that is you in the world, your bed, your room, your wind chimes in the heart of your mind that never end. No, you don't need to go there, friend. Stay away from some things just based upon my warning, please.

That is not to say to condemn those who go that way. When they fall off the cliff you can try to call out to them and set up a way for them to escape. When you are in that chum phase of early life, you need to look out for all of the people around you. I am not saying to be a busy body. But learn from the bubbalas of old film who always try to find a mate for a person. It's a genre that doesn't go away. So recognize that people are doing this and let it happen. Don't be jealous when people pair off and disappear into their new life with the special other. Don't try to break up people because one of them is desirable to you. And never cheat with a person who is married or fully committed. There is no such thing as an open marriage. Marriage means 'two people who don't go out'. The other thing, well, I suppose it could be called 'pre-divorce'. There should be a humorous beat here but it isn't really even funny even though it might be true for some people.

There are very many levels of commitement between people. If I were to put these on a rung, like a ladder, and rate them I would say that the one-one thing is the way to go. I'm not getting into the whole gay marriage thing. I think that it is a mistake to use the same word because then we imagine that these are somehow really close and the same. But my objection is purely symantic. I like to not let words get usurped by politics.

Well, my story factory. I've made up in my head all of these first year college kids who need to be told "don't be a stupid drunk, don't be a juice rat, don't waste your undergraduate years as a drunkard"

And so the story is that the square dude writer who isn't a drunk, and is, as of yet, not getting income from his allborate web-craft, tells the kiddies to not be stupid drunkards. And don't ever try introvenious drugs (of any kind).

In my story they listen to me. In my story they are able to not give into the temptation. But my story isn't that authentic, is it? So, kids, do what you want. But remember, life is long. You are young. You don't need to do it all as soon as possible. You don't need to try everything 'once'.

As far as opiates: some people need them when they are in recovery from injury or disease. Some people need anti-depressant drugs to help them get over the hump of despair before one can coast off into a place where things don't suck all of the time. So please don't think that I'm saying 'do no drug'.

I've written at length before about overdoses at Mansfield during an outdoor music event. Sad, that. I was a DeadHead in my days at shows. So I've seen it up close. I used to, gasp, observe people hunched over tiny mirrors and sharing germs.

Later in life the ones who get hard into it they live in a hive of 'friends' who are all somehow understanding of the 'alternative' lifestyle that is being led. Anyone who isn't a user is not allowed into this kind of a hive. There are very functional groups of people who do very well for themselves in lifestyles that include augmenting their moods and attention with substance. They can become wildly wealthy. They can rise to the top in their fields. They are not going to be open and honest to outsiders about what they do to augment their health, mood, or attention. Should we judge them? Can we say that it is wrong to chew a leaf while you harvest the forest? Can we say that the drink that they give the guys on the boat before they deploy is government promoting the abuse of alcohol? "Drink up lads, for tomorrow we may die." Read History, it's no joke, alcohol has been a very important source of comfort (some will say 'no') and motivation. The old joke was that the only reason that women ever got pregnant was because of alcohol. A bad joke.

OK, I could keep this up with a discussion sexuality and how the urge to be with others intimately becomes overwhelming for very many people. In our world we have people who, even after having been brutalized, return to the brute and defend the brute against society saying 'no, that ain't no way to treat a lady!' (that isn't a way to treat a spouse, or anyone!)

There is not easy model for human relationships, motivation, or urge-driven behavior. Descriptions of these things always lack, and always are tainted with the point of view of the one who is doing the fussing about the topic. Young people are hormone driven. Many say that 'every generation needs to learn for themself'. No. It can't work like that for everything. It may work that way for some.

So what can mentors and teachers do? They can try and distill the life lessons that gave them success and come up with observations and codes of conduct. they can try to explain it to their charges that these rules are what works from experience, "we were young once too." I could give you a list of names, for example, of kids that died from drunk driving, kids I knew myself. But, then, because "we were young once too, and gay" (lol) we understand that some people will learn the lesson and take the advice while others will just pawn it off to being buzz-kill rules of old and over-the-hill fussy elders.

I see a river
of lava 
burning
flowing
down through the land
cuts the world in half
there is no way around it.
no way to get to the other side
where love is
to the other side
with love

he sees her
across the flow
there isn't any other way to go
to go around?
Back down?
Meet me on the other side!
Back down and meet me
on the other side.

She met him
on the other side of life
where the town goes dancing
and the band plays all night.
She tells him
to be home for the evening
outside of life
where the town meets the forest
her back door
off, down the hill, through the saplings
the pines
   spruces
 long slopes
     down mountain wind river
 so show me
  she tells him
      she heard it
he wasn't home
   strange lightening
 where is the boy?
This morning
    he went to the factory
 that's burning?
 to see his uncle
 who's on the list she heard
      she hasn't told him
 He's been away
 the Winter was hard
 changeable skies this morning.
She took the laundry in before it was dry because of the rain.
She looks out towards the wind, changeable skies.
Lightening.
Smoke
factory burned to the ground
 where is the boy?

In a blog it's always good to delete things

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How much of too much is enough?

How do we remember to forget?

In a blog it's good to delete and leave things in the past. They are still available but not at the front.

I worry that the transformations would be too sweeping. If you look back a long time on this site you can find all the junk that I posted even back to like 2004, some of it. Some of my content is even older than that. And it is all free for me to use and for you to enjoy when I link it in.

delete delete delete
no line is ever the same way twice.
no hope is ever lost on the . . .
nonsense words are fun but pointless.
What purpose do they serve?
Just like using a massage wand on sore neck
nonsense poems are to the mind.
the mental master___ation of nonsense poems
was a cunundrom to the desk sitting dorkulous.

Da da dorkulous stories
 of the long ago.

August 25, 2014

🔫 🚀 🚙🚤🚣🔨🍀⚜⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣🚣🔨🔨🔨

There is always time to
🍀 Praise God! 🍀
🍀⏲⏱⏰⏲⏱🔫⏰⏰⏲⏱🔫⏰⏰🍀
🎠 
🎠 
🎠 
🔫 
🔨🔨 

🔨🔨♥♥🔨🔨 love me or else! which is poison love.love me or I'll take a hammor to you! psycho excessive love.

Too tired to sleep 
   he thinks
 "I must be dreaming."
  
The Sargent,
the major
and the Luetenint Colonel engineer
where having a friendly pitcher
at a club
behind the peir.

. . . 
??
If I were dreaming
awake
I'd be writing nonsense poems.
They think they are real
but they are fake
when they go on and on
about their expensive roams
down to the wine town
off to the college
over to the race track
a well of knowledge
old money betting
you're spending your time
reading the list
spending your dime

If I were dreaming
I might be awake
wondering about why
these things that we make
are so hard to show
and all that who scoff
or make desparaging comments
hidden by a cough.

Reading the act
the riot of the people
was really just a spontaneous shout
"Justice!"

If I were awake
I just might be dreaming
I just might have a reason
to be there beaming
a smile with my eyes closed
not thinking of any other
sister or cousin or mother or brother.
If you smiling while you're sleeping
a pure form of thought
why make up things while you're awake which clearly are not?
Why lie to my face
and bold faced and vain
agree to my every vanity
my every word insane?
sychophant can neer be a friend
this lying is over
it has to end.

At some point you imagine how
the old cars were abandoned after breaking down
off on some mountainside you'd fnd them there years later
rust that will cut you and it's dangerous to play on them
And when you're a little bit older you think about how you could tip the car over.
So tip the car over
yes tip the car over
it's old and it's rotton and were little bastards
we love to cause trouble
out here in the forest
where no one can see us
we won't take responsiblity
so tip the car over
tip the car over
yes tip the car over.

Suddenly
 a golf ball
comes whizzing through the poem
from teh otehr side of the website
because someone in another poem
 has whacked it really hard and put off
into another part of the page.
It whizzes by one of the littl chanting 9 year olds off in the woods trying to tip
over an old buick that was ditched way out here
in the long ago.

If you go out to that place
in the woods
that old car
might still be there
and there probably
won't be anyone there
there never is
there never was
it exists now perhaps
just in this poem
if they ripped up those woods
and built houses.

Mar 29, 2014 (03-29-2014)

well . . .

I think I've blogged enough today.

"I'm all blogged out."

~ OK Now.

Praise God! awful first novel lines:

Bounce Bounce Bounce in the bed of the truck, the mountains and the coming Summer shower Marisel . . . [ . ?. . . ?]

If you still love ♥♥
that you are in love ♥
to talk about it
to think it over
to wait for her
if you are mistaken?

If you still hear
if you thought there were something important
that someone was going to tell you
you'd mill around
you'd expect them to come over and greet you.

If you went through the seven dollars that you had,
the last one you gave as a tip to the barmaid,
you'd walk home 
just as it's starting to rain.
You'd drink two tall glasses of water
before you get in bed.
In less then 20 minutes
you'd be using the bathroom.


If you dream about love,  ♥
you dream about what it would be
if the person
felt the same way.

OK, I've actually got somewhere to go.

If my heart
  touches your heart
 do we leave the world apart
   living our lives together from the start
 away from those who do not come to heart?

Sharing
 means that the desparate
   desire from the effect of it
 becomes like a junkie urge
 they push the whole world away from them.

 You can watch them.
     you try and talk them out of their funk.
the dig the hole deeper,
  go farther inside the fear
      without a torch to guide them.

  How it hurts
   to forget to live
    to try and be better, but
      only getting worse
  more resentful.
    every behavior is a calculated action.
  this smile is merely a mask of a mask
  which of my demons is happy? which sad?
   it's like the boss level of a video game
     and no one knows how to make the mad clown
        calm down
    get happy
      be happy
  mad clown laugh clown laugh
    get happy
        be happy
    mad clown laugh clown laugh

  I think of a type of woodland
   there's a road some where off towards
              far away hills
         that roll towards highlands
                   lowlands
     valley
           town
              river
                  mountain.

  The hardwood trees are spaced apart
        the deer find places to hide with in the thickets.
 you do not see them but note their presence
     from the obvious way
     that they tromp and kick and feed
      on leaves, you see their presence even though
                 you do not see them.

 Angels are like that too.
 If they are in a good mood it means you are.
   If you feed them hate they amplify it.
  If you talk lies they'll weave you a net of lies
        and use it on you.
 Deer, a lot more  kind, if you go chasing them
   they run away.

  Angels might let you catch them.
  They'll taunt you in the court room
         in front of the jury and judge and your
  lawyer who pretends that he believes you
      when you tell him
 you've got an angel
      and no body else can see him
 he has horns and wears a red cape and
       drinks lustfully from a pitcher of pure indignation
  call 'delicious' the crafting of come-backs and barbs and
           snarky hate.

  "He's just who you make him be"

   The angels, let them fly off and towards
        the brighter light  
  let them be free.
      
    "Ya, I'm an angel and I can talk to you
    but no body else can hear.
       no body else can see.
    I exist only for you
       and I don't know anything more than you do
  and probably less"

  your angel is a devil if you feed it
hate and indignation. your angel
  will try and be
     just like you.
   so if you be a devil.
 
emotions
    are better controlled
 than used for conjouring.

   By the end of the walk
  the flies have found them
     and follow close.
 He gets through that part by moving quicker.
  He really wants to get back to his car
     and leave these angels here, 
   not carry them back with him.

   When he made it back to his vehicle
   he quickly made it inside 
    before any of the flies could bight him.
     he made it in but one of them got in too
 like some fetish angel that he still keeps,
       porcellion
   on his shelf.

 "I'm no angel."
     he thinks.
 "I'm human."

  He captures the fly
    in a piece of tissue
   and puts it out the window

  And if that mad clown head
  comes alive while riding a wild mare
       at night
  galloping through the forests of
       primeval imaginnings
 before you knew how to calm fear
  still the sea
   of rage
that some will flood
 around themselves.

how hard is it to use these new symbols in your stuff? Well, first you need to know that they exist. Second, you can just cut and paste them.

🌀 🌁 🌂 🌃 🌄 🌅 🌆 🌇 🌈 🌉 🌊 🌋 🌌 🌍 🌎 🌏 🌐 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌙 🌚 🌛 🌜 🌝 🌞 🌟 🌠

I've got a message for . . . Mr Bash (an alias for someone else). Mr Bash, if I use brace expansion with the dot-dot idiom, ie like this:

echo -e {🌃..🌅}{🌍..🌏}{🌑..🌚}" "

why does that not work when

echo -e {🌃,🌄,🌅}{🌍,🌎,🌏}{🌑,🌒,🌓,🌔,🌕,🌖,🌗,🌘,🌙,🌚}" "

will? Maybe I've not ordered the elements properly. Well that little snippit doesn't work that well but t

What was that? He wonders. He has to wash the rest of the pans. He'll let them cool off first. That blue jay squacks again out in the spruce tree.

Chipmunk chipmunk
living in a hole
you run away
when the lawn mower roll
near your spot 
where you dug down deep
run away, run away 
before you sleep.

when I'm done mowing
you can come back here.
It was not my intention
to wake you or spread fear.


🖐🖑
🖑🖐   

The following poem is fresh, whipped up, off the cuff.

  

If the mind find
a rhyme time;
to blame, a lame game;
the person mearly faining vain
is actually akin to a star
that is hanging from a tree.
it was crafted out and made for me.
it dangles free.
Come and see.
  


  Praise God! 

🖐🖑
🖑🖐
   
 🖐🖑

 the
first person
he tried to remove from his blog 
tried filing a suit
but it was thrown out
because it had all been clearly written 
in the disclousures.



My rainbows
are only there when it's raining.
You want rainbows
on every window, on every horizon
all of the time.

When it's time
for rainbows
there must be rain.
What kinds of rain? just of water?
The rain of condemnation
that you shower on the vanity boutique owner
"Why won't you solute our rainbows."

Sometimes 
it's not right
to challange people,
to bait them
to bring them a task
that you know that they don't want to do.

My rainbows
are only there when there is rain
somewhere.
Hope it's not the rain
of condemnation
that the boutique owner
won't take your rainbows
won't make you a dress.

If a wedding
is all about love
how loving is it
to put a dress maker
out of business
even if she were a bigot?

If she has no income
no way to make a living
will you pay to feed her?
Will you let her eat cake
the cake that was left over
at the end of your wedding?

Love doesn't need to make a political display
of buying a dress
from a non-political person.

If it's a wedding
where is the love? ♥♥?
The love of the stranger?
The forgive and let live?
The joy
where is the spontanious joy?
If it is really holy?

in your heart

Be nice to yourself and others. What other choice?

Use your mind
to be kind

Wake up!

Wake up!

And this really is at 
the end of the column ♥♥