Friday, December 10, 2004

Greensboro, NC: When John Lennon Was Killed

On the anniversary of John Lennon's tragic murder, we reflect on Greensboro: December 1980. The "Greensboro Massacre" is just one year old.
Lennon Era Comes to an end as the Reagan Era is born

On December 8, 1980 John Lennon died, killed by the bullet of a madman. It was the year Ronald Reagan became President of the United States. Hard to say which event brought more grief...
With the election of Reagan, suddenly there was a whole new breed of hominid strutting about, cocks-of-the-walk, in alligator shirts, lime slacks, hingeheads. The square was back, the 50s were once again upon us. And the hip world went back underground.

I was living in a house on Friendly Avenue right next to the greenway with David Grogan and Chuck Newman, and dating Lucy of Charlotte. She was talking classes at the university, whereas I was only auditing classes. Buddhism, Ballet and the Electronics Music lab. I was also helping Bil (sic) Poole entertain dance classes by playing piano, and occasionally other instruments. I can think of worse jobs.

Greensboro was a hub of creative and intellectual activity, just as it is now, only now it is centered around the illustrious embarrassment of riches, in the form of bloggers. And a good number of the remarkables were students and teachers at UNC-Greensboro, formerly a women's college. The predominance of women in the University area provided the proverbial seedbed for creative activity, and, as in all times when the world turns upside-down and mediocrity is given its turn, the creatives and progressives find one another and pour their suffering into more creative outlets.

John Jones was arguably the best host for serious gatherings. There, he and his friend, Maria Robbins, would host parties for Grogan, Newman, Lucy, Dayna, Chance, Eric, Jonathan Franzel, Fred and Stan, John Pope, and a few other worthies. John would cook up a mahvelous meal in his wok, and allow us to dig through his wondrous library of books and music. John got me up to speed on Brian Eno's "Oblique Strategies cards" in a van trip to Atlanta to see Genesis at the Fox Theatre, and his music was along that line of European avant-garde eclecticism, although he did have Americans Steve Reich and Phillip Glass among his collection. Everyone had the great Nonesuch offerings. Bil Poole was also an audiophile, and yet his collection was more heavily leaning toward the jazz side of the ECM label, where one could find folks like Jan Garbarek, Eberhard Weber , Egberto Gismonti, and even George I. Gurdjieff, who really wasn't all that jazzy. Speaking of Gurdjieff, Eric (I forget his last name) was reading Gurdjieff's "Beelzebub" at my prodding, and even read it the requisite 3 times. We were all probably a little to young and inexperienced to get much out of it, but it was a moment. What can I say?

I sat in on Paul Courtwright's Buddhism class, who, one day, packed into cars and drove to Duke University where Edward Said was speaking on Orientalism, after which Paul treated us to dinner at an Indian restaurant, where he taught us the proper form. It was my chance to see the beautiful Duke University, or Mister Said, who sadly died last year. And sadly, some in our circle have since died, namely John Pope and Fred. May their memories live on...

At night, we could often be found on Tate Street, at Rosewaters, New York Pizza, or Aycock...where such great performances as the Beijing Opera would play. Tashi, a wondrous ensemble with Ida Kafavian, Peter Serkin, Fred Sherry and Richard Stoltzman, came that year, and I can still hear the final strains of Messiaen's "Quartet for the End of Time" playing in my head. Local favorites were F-Art Ensemble and Glenn Phillips.

One of the fellers, and Lord help me with his name, started up a film class, which showed, among other things Bergman's "Persona", Renoir's "The Grand Illusion" and the avant-garde works of Stan VanDerBeek...who came and gave a talk.

While all this creative activity was going on, there were also seminars and discussions on the KKK-Communist "Greensboro Massacre", which has happened in Greensboro the previous year...strangely. Around the University one could hadly image even a fistfight. Rocky Horror, RocknRoll High School and the Life of Brian were more on the minds than violence.

It was a heady time. It was also the year that I found a big colorful oak tree on the campus, plopped down one fall day and read the whole of the Bhagavad-Gita. A day my life changed. Just like when Lennon died.

The morning John Lennon died, I was awakened to a decidedly 9/8 rhythm pattern, with which I immediately fell in love. Chuck was playing Dave Brubeck's "Blue Rondo a la Turk", and it was my first taste of 9/8. So my day started off with a musical theme. By nightfall music would have a very different role. It will die.

And so, as I painted the bare walls of my little room on Friendly Avenue, lost in reverie, smelling the curry onion eggs Grogan was cooking up, I heard the words come out over the radio..."John Lennon has been shot". And with news of his death, spontaneously, people gathered for a candlelight vigil at the University.

The Reagan era had begun. The Peacenik-in-chief had been silenced. No more giving peace a chance, it was a time for greed and mediocrity and John Wayne.

Within months I would pack my backs and move up to Cambridge, where a lot of other folks also found refuge from the brutal Godzilla.

Greensboro Today

Those days in Greensboro are still among my favorite, and I am so happy to once again connect to the city, through such creative souls as Ed Cone, David ("Get outta here!) Hoggard, Matt Gross and Billy the Blogging Poet, as well as the other great bloggers working there, including Ruby Sinreich, Dan Romuald, Jay Ovittore, Ross Myers, Tara Sue, and many other great folks.

I often wonder if any of the old gang of '80 and the bloggers of '04 know one another, as I know they would find kindred spirits. Or if any of the bloggers remember any of the events I have described. If so...please comment profusely!

Lastly, in today's Charlotte Observer, I wrote a graf on Greensboro and the blogosphere, which went like this:

View from blogosphere: Charlotte behind curve
Blogs are the cutting edge of democracy, giving everyone with access to a computer the ability to publish, free of charge and without space restrictions. "Blog" was also the most popular new word this year and is now to be found in major dictionaries.Greensboro and the Triangle seem to have a better grasp of blogging's importance than we do in Charlotte -- hosting conferences and tying in with newspapers and universities.
The Observer might do well to team up with local bloggers in order to help empower the community with this important new skill. North Carolina has a strong presence in the blogosphere, but it can be made stronger still. The best way to predict the future is to create it.
-Dave Beckwith


Please also feel free to comment to the Observer about your own observations...

"Nightmare 9" from anonyMoses' POWWOWIRAQSI now available for free download




"Nightmare 9" is the soundtrack of a nightmare in Iraq.

I hosted it at a different server, located HERE. The other songs are located here. "Nightmare 9" pays tribute to "Revolution 9" by the Beatles and "Plan 9 from Outer Space". Hope you enjoy it. Great for headphones and freakouts!

Include your blog in the Blogrankings

Blogrankings is a new ranker of blogs. Get in early and rise!
(via Billy the blogging poet)

Thursday, December 09, 2004

In Praise of Bloggers

I love bloggers. Even red-spectrum bloggers are generally decent, reasonable people. And I must say that the blogosphere is a prana-rich and rarified gestalt, amid certain circuits at least, and to imagine being without the richness these blognoscenti provide is a loss too stupefying to witness, without Recalcitanto rearing his ugly head. So I shall thereby render it moot, mute, at least for The Time Bean.

But, as I consider how many bloggers I regard so warmly and highly, so to speak, if may be siebold, piebald, or dare I say it? Skewbald. There, I've said it. Well, these will just have to be taken in like syrup from a spoon, since all I know is shoot! I am with elation. And hope it's not mania. For every man in the land of the space of today knows that...you up one, you up the udder. And bad cream always races to the gulley...which, of course, makes me think of Tristan Tzara and perhaps even Andre (Bucky) Breton. Something about automatic writing. Cloaca of Consciousness. Martha Loofah & the Farty Feces. But that doesn't belie the source.

And as there is nothing more important than ending your paragraphs with meaningless non-sequitors, let it also be said that bloggers, rascals though they be, are, ARE, the steak of the ark. The wind-blown zephyrs of Truth. The eye of the potatoe. I mean "e".

In shorts, I want to hereby launch a new series, entitled "In praise of bloggers", with a special eye out for those bloggers that are destined to become future winners of the Nobel Peace Prize. I will have to drag out my prophet beanie.

Telltale Tail : The Long Tail wags ever harder

Forget squeezing millions from a few megahits at the top of the charts. The future of entertainment is in the millions of niche markets at the shallow end of the bitstream.

(Via Ed Cone who says: "In this environment, blogs are the long tail and the N&R may be emerging as one of the players in the fat part of the curve. ")

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Download anonyMoses' new MP3, "Iraqalypse"



DOWNLOADABLE MP3
Anonymoses Music website



Can You Taste The Tears?

This is not the heartbeat of the Earth.
Can you hear the fear, can you taste the tears?
Can you smell the blood, can you touch the wounds?
This is the adrenalin rush of mankind at war with itself...
The death throws of a failed experiment.
Hope and despair living in the same body at the same time...
an impossible taskthat must be altered.
Otherwise, there will be merciful silence for the Earth in the end
and...no more children to build a future for.

~ Patty Ann Smith / Hope4America

Here is a wonderful new song of Patty's called:
"Before he went to War".

(Thanks, Patty! You never cease to amaze...)




The anonyMoses Open Window Dump

This is where anonyMoses, tiring of all the open windows he has accumulated which he wants to get back to but fears he hasn't the time or energy, transmogrifies the open windows (which are really closed) into links which he then transports onto the space below...


WHISTLEBLOWER AFFIDAVIT: Programmer Built Vote Rigging Prototype at Republican Congressman's Request!
CLAIM: Rep. Tom Feeney (R-FL) Asked Company to Create E-Vote Fraud Software!


More on the same subject from Blue Lemur

The 'blog' revolution sweeps across China

Progressive Society Blog archives





Support System of Blogpolitics: The Evolution of Cooperation

Read about the "Support System of Blogpolitics: The Evolution of Cooperation" as well as my column on "Pearl Harbor, 911: They were expendable" at The American Street.

Thanks!

David Beckham fathers Jesus, hosts wise guys


David, Victoria and Jesus Beckham with friends and hangers on.

Melchior, Balthazar and Gaspar they are not, but that didn't stop Bush, Blair and the Duke of Edinburgh from crashing the Beckhams' "Shiny Happy People Party" -- which itself is catching on may soon be a major political force in the Theopolitical yuga to which we seem forever roodly hung upon.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Joyce's use of the word, "blog" in Finnegans Wake

James Joyce's "Finnegans Wake" has been credited for being a seedbase for the concept of hyperlinking, and thus the World Wide Web, but now we see that Joyce also talked of the blog. Well, sort of. This is a passage:

Finnegans Wake: Page 504
Part:3 Episode:14 Page:504

-- Booms of bombs and heavy rethudders?
-- This aim to you!
-- The tail, so mastrodantic, as you tell it nearly takes your
own mummouth's breath away. Your troppers are so unrelieved
because his troopers were in difficulties. Still let stultitiam done
in veino condone ineptias made of veritues. How many were
married on that top of all strapping mornings, after the midnight
turkay drive, my good watcher?
-- Puppaps. That'd be telling. With a hoh frohim and heh
fraher. But, as regards to Tammy Thornycraft, Idefyne the lawn
mare and the laney moweress and all the prentisses of wildes to
massage him.
-- Now from Gunner Shotland to Guinness Scenography.
Come to the ballay at the Tailors' Hall. We mean to be mellay on
the Mailers' Mall. And leap, rink and make follay till the Gaelers'
Gall. Awake ! Come, a wake ! Every old skin in the leather world,
infect the whole stock company of the old house of the Leaking
Barrel, was thomistically drunk, two by two, lairking o' tootlers
with tombours a'beggars, the blog and turfs and the brandywine
bankrompers, trou Normend fashion, I have been told down to
the bank lean clorks? Some nasty blunt clubs were being operated
after the tradition of a wellesleyan bottle riot act and a few plates
were being shied about and tumblers bearing traces of fresh
porter rolling around, independent of that, for the ehren of Fyn's
Insul, and then followed that wapping breakfast at the Heaven
and Covenant, with Rodey O'echolowing how his breadcost on
the voters would be a comeback for e'er a one, like the
depredations of Scandalknivery, in and on usedtowobble sloops off
cloasts, eh? Would that be a talltale too? This was the grandsire
Orther. This was his innwhite horse. Sip?


And at the beginning of one of the most famous passages of the book, we see:

Part:1 Episode:6 Page:168
Shem is as short for Shemus as Jem is joky for Jacob. A fewtoughnecks are still getatable who pretend that aboriginally hewas of respectable stemming (he was an outlex between the linesof Ragonar Blaubarb ant Horrild Hairwire and an inlaw to Capt.the Hon. and Rev. Mr Bbyrdwood de Trop Blogg was amonghis most distant connections) but every honest to goodness manin the land of the space of today knows that his back life willnot stand being written about in black and white. Putting truthand untruth together a shot may be made at what this hybridactually was like to look at.

More like blogger with the "-er" missing, but there nonetheless.

In his book, "The Media Trade"...

Tofts manages to set out in twenty pages why Finnegans Wake - the first literary text in which tv plays an important role - is the central text for the digital age. He shapes this conclusion, which is shared by Donald Theall and Marshall McLuhan, with the help of the usual suspects, like Deleuze and Derrida.
Finnegans Wake: the original media theory book, the moment at which print literacy converges with electronic digitization. The method of Finnegans Wake offers a hint of the ecology of meaning which will characterise the digital age, a glimpse ahead. It embodies the new ecology of sense implicit in the electronic, immersive experience of telematic cspace (Tofts’ 'metasignifier', in my opinion superfluous, which stands for 'cyberspace' as well as for 'space'), it is central to the aesthetics of the computer age.
MORE


His use of the word, "Anonymoses" is noted:


Part:1 Episode:2 Page:47
He ought to blush for himself, the old hayheaded philosopher,
For to go and shove himself that way on top of her.
Begob, he's the crux of the catalogue
Of our antediluvial zoo,
(Chorus) Messrs. Billing and Coo.
Noah's larks, good as noo.

He was joulting by Wellinton's monument
Our rotorious hippopopotamuns
When some bugger let down the backtrap of the omnibus
And he caught his death of fusiliers,
(Chorus) With his rent in his rears.
Give him six years.

'Tis sore pity for his innocent poor children
But look out for his missus legitimate!
When that frew gets a grip of old Earwicker
Won't there be earwigs on the green?
(Chorus) Big earwigs on the green,
The largest ever you seen.

Suffoclose! Shikespower! Seudodanto! Anonymoses!

Then we'll have a free trade Gaels' band and mass meeting
For to sod the brave son of Scandiknavery.
And we'll bury him down in Oxmanstown
Along with the devil and Danes,
(Chorus) With the deaf and dumb Danes,
And all their remains.

And not all the king's men nor his horses
Will resurrect his corpus
For there's no true spell in Connacht or hell
(bis) That's able to raise a Cain.


Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Sunday, November 28, 2004

You too can be a Pope!


This is not a pope.

THE STARK FIST OF REMOVAL
"It's even more relative than Einstein realized."

"Don't just eat a hamburger -- eat the HELL out of it."

I have simply got to meet Robert Anton Wilson. So Bob, if you're out there, pop on over!

Last night found me poring over one of the several books I have of his, namely "Coincidance", and flipped it open randomly, as his books are so pregnant with synchonicity triggers. I must have wakened the neighbors with my outbursts of laughter.

Well, thank God for the Internet! I have found the section from which I read, and I will excerpt a few passages...

The American Coffee Ceremony

The Javacrucians, a group which looks suspiciously like a parody of the Rosicrucians, has selected the less-controversial caffeine as its sacrament. It also has the simplest theology in history, teaching that one thing only is necessary for salvation, the American Coffee Ceremony -- a variation on the Japanese Tea Ceremony. This is performed at dawn, and you must face east, toward the rising sun, as you raise the cup to your lips. When you take the first sip, you must cry out with intense fervor, "GOD, I needed that!" If this is performed religiously every morning, Javacrucians say, you will face all life's challenges with a clear mind and a tranquil spirit.

SFMB -- the Society of Fred Mertz, Boddhisattva -- was founded by the Finnish-American poet, Antero Alli, and holds that all wisdom is contained in the seemingly inane remarks of Fred Mertz, a minor character of the "I Love Lucy" TV show. By watching "Lucy" reruns continually and meditating on the apparently banal things Fred says -- e.g., "I don't know what's going on around here" or "I don't understand women at all" -- this sect claims you will find the same Enlightenment as in contemplating Zen Buddhist koans such as "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" And just as in Zen, where students are often required to meditate on monosyllables such as "Mu" (no), the SFMB sect would have you meditate on such Mertziana as "Huh?" or "Awww!" until you sense what Joyce would call the epiphany in even the most trivial.


You Too Can Be A Pope

More serious, or at least more desperate, is the Discordian Society and/or Paratheo-Anametamystikhood of Eris Esoteric (POEE), an anarchistic sect divided deliberately into two opposed groups, each claiming to be (I quote) "the first True Religion." Like the witches, the Discordians worship a female divinity, but say She is crazy. Her name, in fact, is Eris, and the ancient Greeks knew her as the Goddess of Chaos; Discordians claim she is also the Goddess of Confusion, Discord, and Bureaucracy. The Discordian orthodoxy, headed by "Ho Chih Zen" (real name, Kerry Thornly), claims this was revealed by a miraculous talking chimpanzee, who appeared in a bowling alley in Yorba Linda, California, in 1957. The POEE sect flatly rejects this, says it is superstitious nonsense intended to attract the gullible, and proves the existence of Eris by Five Proofs, which are logical monstrosities and reduce actually to One Proof -- namely, "If Eris doesn't exist, who put all the Chaos in this universe, you damned atheist?"

Discordians have set out to out-Hensley Hensley by making every man, woman and child on the planet a Pope. They are doing this by mass-distribution of Pope cards and have not, of course, neglected to send one of these to the Anti-Pope in France and to the chap in the Vatican who still thinks he's the only Pope. All employees of the Pentagon are, willy-nilly, Discordian saints whether they want to be or not, since Malaclypse has canonized them and incorporated them into a holy order called "Knights Of The Five-Sided Castle," under the patronage of St. Quixote. The Pentagon itself is a religious shrine, said to embody the perfect balance of Chaos and Bureaucracy. Everybody who opposes Discordianism as blasphemous or absurd is an honorary saint too, of the House of the Rising Hodge, while Discordians are saints of the House of the Rising Podge.

Discordianism shuns dogma but has one catma, the Syadastan Affirmation, which reads, "All affirmations are true in some sense, false in some sense, meaningless in some sense, true and false in some sense, true and meaningless in some sense, false and meaningless in some sense, and true and false and meaningless in some sense." Discordians call this the Free Mantra -- unlike the Transcendental movement, they charge no fees -- and insist that if you repeat it 666 times you will achieve Spiritual Enlightenment, in some sense.

The Order of the Golden Calf had a brief career but now seems defunct. The members, who all lived in Berkeley, California, had a magnificent gold (or imitation gold) statue of a calf and carried it around to places where other sects were proselytizing on the streets. There they would do an Adoration of the Calf, distribute leaflets describing their idol as "the first victim of monotheistic bigotry," and urge everybody else to "lighten up your act a little."

The John Dillinger Died For You Society, run by a pseudonymous "Dr. Horace Naismith" (allegedly a Playboy editor by day and a maniac only by night), accepts as its savior John Dillinger, the gunman who robbed 23 banks and three police stations before he was shot dead by FBI agents in 1934. JDDFYS members place memorial wreaths and floral bouquets at the Biograph Theater, where Dillinger was gunned down, every year on the anniversary of his death, June 22. Their major spiritual teaching comes from Mr. Dillinger, whom they call St. John the Martyr, and consists of the words,
"Lie down on the floor and keep calm."


Power! Sex! Success! Money!

I have saved the best -- or worst -- for last. The Church of the Sub-Genius in Dallas has borrowed a bit from all of the above, and from every other religion on the planet, uses high-powered advertising techniques in the style of the most aggressive Christian Evangelists, and promises in capitals to teach you the secret of POWER! and SEX! and SUCCESS! and MONEY! It will also put you in touch with SUPERHUMAN FORCES, save you from THE CONSPIRACY, and even show you how to achieve SLACK and literally get something for nothing. That is admittedly a tall order, but the founder, J.R. "Bob" Dobbs, is no ordinary mortal. In fact, it is far from clear whether anybody has actually ever seen "Bob" at all, at all, and Sub-Genius advertising darkly hints that before an ordinary human can survive a meeting with "Bob" it is necessary to go to Dobbstown, located somewhere in South America, and have special surgery to "open the third nostril." Even then, it is warned, you might come back from such a Close Encounter with inflamed eyes, headache, total or partial amnesia, and other stigmata of UFO contactees, and you will probably be harassed by agents of THE CONSPIRACY who will appear at your door pretending to be Jehovah's Witnesses and try to get inside to brainwash you.
...
I think I have found the Secret of Power. It is in one of the cheaper Sub-Genius publications More Quotes and Gloats from "Bob" and it reads, "You know how dumb the average guy is? Well, by definition, half of them are even dumber than that." Then again, it might be in other gems of Dobbsiana such as "Don't just eat a hamburger -- eat the HELL out of it," or "Fuck them if they can't take a joke," or maybe even the Dark Saying, "GOD spelled backwards is DOG, but BOB spelled backwards is still BOB."

...as "Bob" sums it up elsewhere, "Hell, it's even more relative than Einstein realized."

The Fred Society

The Fred Society
...preserving and upholding the honorable name of Fred for all posterity.

"Sometimes private jokes are the best." - Baruch the Scribe


Tom Priest Cartoons

Saturday, November 27, 2004

ABC and the Alphabet

Rocky Mountain News: Columnists

Watch this:

_ISNE_

Fill in the blanks.
DISNEY
EISNER

The folks at ABC are obsessed with the alphabet. They make decisions by guaging it's alphabetic significance.

And now we find them playing this game:

K-vowel-consonant-same consonant-E-L

Yes, ABC is now talking about replacing...
KOPPEL with
KIMMEL.

You learn your ABCs in kindergarten. Then you move up.
Not down.

To trade Ted Koppel with Jimmy Kimmel is a move down.
Not to mention suicide.



Songs of Innocence and Experience

EdCone.com

Ed Cone give a tender and moving portrayal of innocence and experience, over at his blog today. The DVD of his family trip to Jamiaca when Ed was only 9, and probably Eddie, or Edward, brought back memories of innocent joy. And yet for Ed's mother, who could see the wider view of experience, but who may have lost some of the magic of innocence, saw it as a horrible time, as her husband, Ed's dear father, would soon meet an untimely death.

We are reminded of Blake's "Songs of Innocence and Experience", where he talks of the same things, only at one time, from the eye of innocence, and another, from the eye of experience. Both have their validities, and both their blind spots.

I am also reminded, when thinking of Ed, and the tender moments he shares with his readers, of a chapter in a book by Chogyam Trungpa called "The Tender Heart of Sadness". Many people want to avoid sadness, some even "at all costs". But sadness is one of the most beautiful experiences one can have while alive. The tenderness, the rawness...is immersion in Life.
And as Kundera, and others, have witnessed: No sadness, no joy. Sadness is form, Joy, content. Joy fills the empty space hollowed out by the depths of your sadness.

Dostoevsky is supposed to have said: "Suffering is the sole origin of consciousness." Is this why Gautama, Siddhartha changed so radically when first lighting upon an unclean and miserable "forgotten man"?

We, at Anonymoses, want to thank Ed for sharing the myriad colors and flavors of his life and experience. And invite those of you who may not know him or his work, to venture on over and introduce yourself.

Friday, November 26, 2004

On completing a novel in one month

by Anonymoses Hyperlincoln


Well, I actually did it. Finally. After decades of failed attempts. And if you didn't participate in this year's NaNoWriMo...mark your calendar for next November, and start preparing notes.
If you need to take some time off...do it. As claimed, it really is the beauty of the deadline...a lesson I learned to hate while working at a local newspaper, but one which I look back on fondly, when I think about my first novel, and how I crapped it out.

Some people go to school for years in order to get out and work on a a book that may or may not ever get done. Save the years. Take one month and focus your mind. It may suck, but you will know better what to do next time. And the next, and the next. YOU know you can do one every month. 12 a year. After a while, you get good at it. And by the time you have hit your 50th novel...you will be, if not good, at least prolific. But probably pretty good as well.

And it doesn't have to be in the form of a novel. I am planning on some children's books, non-fiction books, political books, and maybe even poetry. But I think I'll stick to the 50k word/month standard, as it also allows time to live life.

I fancy myself as being not only a Renaissance Man, but also a Pre-Cambrian Man.
Yes, I remember some of the lessons I learned prior to shipping off to Cambridge.
I am also Post-Apocalypic Man. Sadly I forgot where I was going with this so maybe I will discuss pie recipes.

But sadly I have no such knowledge either. I could make one up:

Penal Pie
(a favorite of the inmates)

1 cup butter
1 cup sugar
1 cup flour
2 broke eggs
1 egg with a few bucks
3 strands of saffron
a thimble of cumin
fresh ginger root
1 cup MD 20-20
1 cup of raisins
3 saltine crackers
1 ice cream sandwich
a Big Buddy

Shake well.
Bake.


So while that's cooking...

Where was I? Oh yes. I had just forgotten what I was going to say.
Well, the condition hasn't improved.

And writing a novel has wonderful effects on the mind, like, like, um, dammit it slipped away again!

I'll leave you with this instead:
Consider your blog posts to be novelfodder. Maybe your narrator is looking over your shoulder, or is your antagonist. You write anyway. Give it a second life.
Maybe it will reward you for your care and efforts.

Happy holidays friends!


A Thanksgiving Message from artist and friend, Tom Priest

Eat too much? Maybe next time you will consider THIS...

You can see more of Tom Priest at:
TomPriest.com

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Anonymoses debuts on The American Street

First column called: "Feng Shui & Falluja"

I am excited to share with my readers my excitement at being a part of the American Street team. The Street is consistently voted among the top forty progressive blogs, and for good reason. I am honored to be among such talented writers, bloggers, columnists and humorists. Some all wrapped into one!

My first offering is called "Feng Shui & Falluja".

Sunday, November 21, 2004

Wealth Through The Eyes Of Sages

A nice collection of quotes from the Philosophical Society

EXCERPTS:

We have grown literally afraid to be poor. We despise any one [sic] who elects to be poor in order to simplify and save his inner life. If he does not join the general scramble and pant with the money-making street, we deem him spiritless and lacking in ambition. We have lost the power even of imagining what the ancient idealization of poverty could have meant: the liberation from material attachments, the unbribed soul, the manlier indifference, the paying our way by what we are or do and not by what we have, the right to fling away our life at any moment irresponsibly, --- the more athletic trim, in short, the moral fighting shape. . . it is certain that the fear of poverty among the educated classes is the worst moral disease from which our civilization suffers.

-- William James (1842-1910), The Varieties of Religious Experience


I am absolutely convinced that no wealth in the world can help humanity forward, even in the hands of the most devoted worker in this cause. The example of great and pure individuals is the only thing that can lead us to noble thoughts and deeds. Money only appeals to selfishness and irresistibly invites abuse. Can anyone imagine Moses, Jesus, or Gandhi armed with the money-bags of Carnegie?

-- Albert Einstein (1879-1955), Mein Weltbild

Wealth is excessive when it reduces a man to a middleman and a jobber, when it prevents him, in his preoccupation with material things, from making his spirit the measure of them. There are Nibelungen who toil underground over a gold they will never use, and in their obsession with production begrudge themselves all holidays, all concessions to inclination, to merriment, to fancy.

-- George Santayana (1863-1952), Reason In Society

There is a wealth of humbug in this life, but the multitudinous little humbugs have been classified by Chinese Buddhists under two big humbugs: fame and wealth. There is a story that Emperor Ch'ienlung once went up a hill overlooking the sea during his trip to South China and saw a great number of sailing ships busily plying the China Sea to and fro. He asked his minister what the people in those hundreds of ships were doing, and his minister replied that he saw only two ships, and their names were "Fame" and "Wealth". Many cultured persons were able to escape the lure of wealth, but only the very greatest could escape the lure of fame. Once a monk was discoursing with his pupil on these two sources of worldly cares, and said: "It is easier to get rid of the desire for money than to get rid of the desire for fame. Even retired scholars and monks still want to be distinguished and well-known among their company. They want to give public discourses to a large audience, and not retire to a small monastery talking to one pupil, like you and me now." . . . many wise men know that the desires for success, fame and wealth are euphemistic names for the fears of failure, poverty and obscurity, and that these fears dominate our lives.

-- Lin Yutang, The Importance Of Living

Most of the luxuries, and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind. With respect to luxuries and comforts, the wisest have ever lived a more simple and meagre life than the poor. The ancient philosophers, Chinese, Hindoo [sic], Persian, and Greek, were a class than which none has been poorer in outward riches, none so rich in inward. We know not much about them. It is remarkable that we know so much of them as we do. The same is true of the more modern reformers and benefactors of their race. None can be an impartial or wise observer of human life but from the vantage ground of what we should call voluntary poverty.

-- Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), Walden

Friday, November 19, 2004

My Novel-writing Sabbatical

Since the first of November, I have had the exquisite pleasure of burying my disappointment with the election, in the speedwriting of a novel, I am calling "The Great Chain of Conversation", and which includes many of you, my dear and valued readers. If you wish exemption, please step forward and claim your prize.

You still have time to participate, and I would highly recommend it, especially if you have already written a lot this month on your blog, as you can include that within your novel, and simply write around it, collect your prize, and march bravely into the future as an award-winning novelist.

The key, folks, is that they don't read it. They just count it. But since you are a person of quality, you will want to make sure, for your own sake, that it was all written in the month of November '04, or that, if you do include any old work, that you also make up for it by exceeding the 50k hurdle.

The point is the magic of deadlines, and how they can create conditions whereby Parkinson's Law may find closure where closure might be otherwise ever-elusive. Parkinson's Law, as I recall, states that work expands to fill the time allotted for its completion.

You've got until November 25th to sign up, but it must be done by November 30th.

Hope to see some of you there...

-Nonny

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

American Serial Killers in Iraq

My Way News

The UASK (Unwitting American Serial Killers) are beginning to tick Muslims off, who are generally not known for their sense of humor.

Here we go again... Russia goes nucular

See what voting for Bush'll get ya. Welcome to the past!

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

Arafat is dead.

Consummatum est.

Aujourd-hui, Yasser est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas.

Sunday, November 07, 2004

Democrats: "We don't need no stinking election"

A few weeks ago, I was talking to some fellow Democratic bloggers, and we were discussing what to do if Kerry became the president. The consensus was this:

Hit the ground, running.

In other words...get to work making the world a better place. It's what Democrats do best. Republicans are the ones who are good at destroying the world...being, basically, agents of Satan. As agents of God, Democrats create Heaven on Earth. Not Hell on Earth...which, again, is Satan's work. War is Hell. Bush is the War President. The Satan President. Not the Great Satan. The Mediocre Satan.

But Kerry didn't win. What do Democrats do now?

Here's what Democrats do:

We live, act and work as if Kerry DID win. In other words, we do not become what they are; reactionaries. We proact. We go ahead and create a better world. We don't just talk about how we would create a better world...but only if you elect us. We don't need no stinking election in order to do our good works.

Some people think that we ought to immediately work toward impeaching Mister Bush. They think that we ought to react to every stupid proposal they put before us.
I say that sure, these things ought to be batted down. But we mustn't hide our light under a Bush. Make THEM play keep-up!

Four years from now, the Democrats should have already proven their mettle, and we should have a host of wondrous accomplishments to point at and brag about. Because you know what? The incompetent Bush administration will fall from the weight of its own lies and deceptions. LET THE POWER FALL. Simply step aside, and get to work creating a better tomorrow. People will be begging us to take the reins. And at that point we can tell them to go fuck themselves.

Just kidding.

Let the power fall. Don't be mere reactionaries.

No need to listen to Rush Limbaugh. No need to watch FOX News. No need to visit the Drudge Report.

Where we are going, we don't need roads. Not the kind of roads they offer.
Let the power fall. Divest. Change the channel.

Let the Republicans impeach Bush. They will get sick of him eventually. If Democrats do it, it will only ensure that the next Democrat in the White House is also foisted up the same tree.

Break the chain of reaction. Move forward. It's what we do best.

Be fearless as you create the future. Fear is a staple food of reactionary people. We are proactionary and conscious. Time we acted like it. Time we acted on it...


Thursday, November 04, 2004

CNN, Networks do their dirty work after midnight

Why Did CNN Change Their Exit Poll Data for Ohio After 1:00 AM?

They feel less guilty telling lies to less people...being moral and all.


Sunday, October 31, 2004

Anonymoses found to be reincarnation of Mohandas K. Gandhi

HASH(0x8c00fac)
You were Gandhi!

You led a life of non-violent and
highly effective protest. People were in awe
of your example and followed it. Because of
your actions, the nation of India won its
independence from the mighty British Empire
without ever firing a single shot.
Unfortunately, your life came to a sudden and
violent end when an assassin shot you in 1948.
The nation, indeed the world, mourned your
passing.



Which Leader Were You in a Past Life?
brought to you by Quizilla


Interesting that he has that K in the middle of his name, as I too have that in mine own. Who else? Howard K. Smith comes to mind. But what do it mean? Hmm...

Using the K is conundral though, since my first name is an 11 and my last name a 22. Very symetrical, numerologically, and also considered special in some way. I forget exactly. But the point is that the K would throw off the symmetry, but not using it puts me in a pool with more than a few others who also share my agnomen and cognomen. Or is agnomen a middle name? Sheesh, wherefore art mine cellbranes?

But yes, I do identify with Gandhi, and love his book, "All Men are Brothers", whose point I also share. As do you probably. And "all women our lovers and sisters", as Mister Whitman reminds us.

Of the possible choices, I could have also been Kung Fu Tse (Confucius), but not really the others. Certainly not Hitler or Napoleon. Floyd the Barber maybe.

Who knows? Indeed, who cares?

Here it is, Halloween night, and I'm worn to the gills, yet psyching for to write me a goldern novel thang, beginning at minuit, topnoir, twelfths. I just threw in twelfths because it is fun yet challenging to pronounce correctly. And topnoir, I made up to represent midnight...assuming, my dear reader, that you have the linguistic wherewithal to decipher such an easy neologism. Not that more challenging ones would tax you, headwise.

So yes, sitting here. Halloweeee...

What the...!

Did you hear that?

Shhhhh!

Shhhhhhhhh!

Saturday, October 30, 2004

The God of War

by Bertold Brecht

I saw the old god of war stand in a bog between chasm and rockface.
He smelled of free beer and carbolic and showed his testicles to adolescents, for he had been rejuvenated by several professors. In a hoarse wolfish voice he declared his love for everything young. Nearby stood a pregnant woman, trembling.
And without shame he talked on and presented himself as a great one for order. And he described how everywhere he put barns in order, by emptying them.
And as one throws crumbs to sparrows, he fed poor people with crusts of bread which he had taken away from poor people.
His voice was now loud, now soft, but always hoarse.
In a loud voice he spoke of great times to come, and in a soft voice he taught the women to cook crows and seagulls. Meanwhile his back was unquiet, and he kept looking round, as though afraid of being stabbed.
And every five minutes he assured his public that he would take up very little of their time.

Blogosphere Radio: The Voice of the Blogosphere

BlogosphereRadio.com is a website devoted to the intersection of blogs and Internet radio. We strive to live up to our tagline as the voice of the blogosphere. BlogosphereRadio.com is run by university students in Edmonton, AB, Canada.

Friday, October 29, 2004

Let's finally write that novel, starting Nov 1

November is National Novel Writing Month. And since it's not too late...yet...you and I can finally get that first novel out of our systems. What better time than during the most important election of our lifetime? It should write itself! Just nudge it every so often...

NaNoWriMo

Thursday, October 28, 2004

Entrepreneur: "Will Undertake for Food"

Linguist Geoffrey Nunberg, author of "Going Nucular", talked about the word, "entrepreneur" today on NPR, and said that today it really just means: "Will undertake for food". An interesting choice of words, as the original meaning of the French word is "to undertake something". Nunberg talks about how "entrepreneurship" grows when jobs decline. An entrepreneur being basically a self-employed person. And he talks about how Bush trumpets the word at every opportunity, as if were some sort of high-fallujan term (oops, did I say Fallujan?) that we all should aspire to embody. In other words, you're gonna lose your job. Suck it up.

Meanwhile over on Rush, there is shuffling of paper, pounding of fists, blovation.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Curse of the Bambino...Eclipsed


Thanks to Tom Priest who would rather I have posted on Salon, but was unable.

Check out Tom's other great work!

The celebration continues here.

A personal note: Did anyone else think that last StLouis pitcher looked like John Malkovich?

Creative Loafing Carolina Writers Night celebrates winners, local talent

CHARLOTTE--Doris Iarovici, A Duke University psychiatrist won the 2005 Novello Literary Award last night for a book called "American Dreaming and Other Stories." She will receive a $1,000 prize and her short story collection will be published next fall by the Public Library of Charlotte and Mecklenburg County, through its nonprofit Novello Festival Press.

Iarovici (pronounced YAHR-o-vich) came to New York City from Romania at age 5. She began to publish poetry and essays in Seventeen Magazine at age 15, and she won a fiction-writing prize while an undergraduate at Yale.She attended Yale's medical school and moved to Durham to do her residency training in psychiatry at Duke Medical Center.

The Creative Loafing Carolina Writers Night, part of the Novello Festival of Reading, showcases Carolinian wordsmiths and wordjoneses, of which, according to Bland Simpson, there are many.

Steve Cushman, author of "Portisville" was the first speaker last night, but I sadly missed that part. But I did get to see and hear Judy Goldman, Sharyn McCrumb and Bland Simpson, who not only read marvelously from his works but also entertained us with sung songs and an electric keyboard. A real bundle of disciplined energy!

Sharyn McCrumb, before him, read a section from her soon to be published novel, "St. Dale," . . . a rousing tale of NASCAR fans on a Chaucerian pilgrimage.

Judy Goldman delighted the crowd with visual aids and anecdotes about how and why she wrote her novel, Early Leaving.

Finalists:
Sandra Cimadori of Lincolnton
Julia Nunnally Duncan of Marion, N.C.
Mark Ethridge of Charlotte
Dot Jackson of Pickens, S.C.
Kay McSpadden of Rock Hill.


Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Monday, October 25, 2004

Tragedy strikes NASCAR, Charlotte and the Hendrick family

Prayers go out to Rick Hendrick and family, as well as the families of the other victims of the plane crash which took their lives yesterday. Mister Hendrick has already suffered more than most people, but to lose a brother and three children in one day is more than most people could bear. He will need our help and prayers...

North Carolina's New Breed

I tend to get all wrapped up in National politics, and forget to consider what is going on locally.
And with people like Jesse Helms representing the history of NC politics, it is not hard to see why I might want to dissociate from the local scene.

I am pleased to report that North Carolina is on the move. And John Edwards is just the tip of the iceberg. And good people are popping up in both parties. Jim Snyder pops to mind. A gentleman and a scholar, Mr. Snyder is a living legacy of what has long been good about North Carolina. He actually would do better on the stage, as he has a classic look, and classic style.
And why he is running as Republican for Lt. Governor, while Jim Ballentine is at the head of the ticket...is beyond me. It's like Laurence Olivier as understudy to Sean Hannity. Totally ass-backwards.

Also ass-backwards is that Bev Perdue is running for Lt. Governor while Mike Easley is running for Governor. Granted, Easley is already Governor. I'd frankly prefer a Snyder/Perdue joint Governorship.

Beth Troutman, like Bev Perdue, is also a bright new voice for North Carolina. Erskine Bowles is yet another shining light, who not only has White House experience and prowess, he also has the help of the great blogger and human being, Matt Gross. And reality-based Jack Flynn will be a nice addition to the congress after he unseats the rubber stamping Sue Myrick, who has exceeded her usefulness. We need to send Richard Moore back as State Treasurer, who has run the best performing pension fund in the country, and has left NC with the best credit rating in the nation.

These good people join other good folks who are doing right by North Carolinians, like Mel Watt, who has begun his "Trading Places" tour, where he works alongside his constituency, and presumably let's others wear his Hahvard tie.

This is a good time to be a Carolinian. We are finally returning to a sort of Mayberry purity.
Y'all come back now! Heah?

Sunday, October 24, 2004

"FOX News: Almost Bad. Far from Outstanding."

Outstanding>Excellent>Great>Good>Fair>Bad "FOX News: Almost Bad. Far from Outstanding."

Fox is fair. Not really good. Certainly not great, excellent or outstanding. Just fair. Practically bad.

Change the channel.


Friday, October 22, 2004

The War Song of G. Dubya Bushrock

by Anonymoses Hyperlincoln
(reprinted for the good folks at the Progressive Blog Alliance, and Blogexplosion.)

LET us vote then, you and I,
When the evening news is spreading lies
to the patients etherised upon a fable;
Let us go, through a certain half-deserted mind,
The muttering unkind
A mindless knight in one-night crack-ho tails
And cornpone restaurants with taco-shells:
Sheep that follow like a tedious dittohead
Of insidious portent
To feed you all a dose of healthy koolaid...
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and drink this sh*t...
From the boom we men come aglow
Walking from Los Alamo.

The yellow blog that wipes its back upon our window pains,
The yellow news that rubs our nose in blue dress stains,
Licked its lips upon the money of the evening news,
Lingered upon the fools that stand to gain,
Let fall upon his face the pretzel that falls from skies,
Slipped by the congress, made of sullen lies,
And seeing that it was a soft September morn,
Turned around the plane, and fell to Sleep...

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow dust that billows down the street,
Wiping its ass upon the window-panes;
There will be Time, there will be War-
ner,
To prepare a place to meet the presses that you meet;
There will be time for Russ and Rush to bloviate,
And time for all the worthless ways of glands
That lift and drop a dollop on your fate;
Time for Dick and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred distortions and revisions,
Before making toast of Cheney.

In the gloom the warmen come aglow
Talking of Guantanamo

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I care?"
Time to turn my back and nude-descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my chair--
[They will say: "How his chair is growing thin!"]
My morning coke, my dollar mounting firmly to boy Ken,
My bolo is immodest, but inserted by a marking pen--
[They will say: "But how his arms of war are sin!"]

Do I dare
Destroy the universe?

In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minuteman will reverse.

For I have blown them all already, blown them up:--
Have known the evening, mourning, darkest noons,
I have mangled up my life with cocaine spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying thup!
Beneath the building from a farther plume.
So what should I consume?

And I have known the ayes already, known them all--
The ayes that fix you in a formulaic phase,
And when I am formulaic, scrawling with a pen,
When I am penned and scribbling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit on all the but wholes of my days and ways?
And who should I consume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all--
Arms that are daisy-cut and grossly unfair,
[Caught in the gunlight, downed without a care!]
Is it blue stains on a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie are sold at table, with talk of shock and awe.
And should I then consume?
And when should I begin?
. . . . .

Shall I say, I have gunned at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the ruins
Of lonely kids in tatters, pouring out of windows...

I am just a pair of ragged shoes
Scuttling across the floors of silent news.

. . . . .

And the afternoon, the evening, creeps so peacelessly!
Scorched by hot zingers,
Asleep ... wired ... or country singers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you Cheney.
Should I, after koolade, coke and icees,
Have the strength to force the world to its crises?
But though I'm inept and blasted, inept and crazed,
Though I have seen many heads [grown slightly shorn] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet--and I'm no mad hatter;
I have seen the speeches of that city slicker,
And I have seen the eternal Bushman hold my coat, and Snicker,
And in shorts, I was DeLayed.

And would it have been worth it, after Oil,
After the kegs, the candy bar, the T,
Hugging the porcelain, a lonesome walk with you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have snapped at the batter with a towel,
To have squeezed the universe into a booger
To roll it toward some overstating question,
To say: "I am Nazareth, book of the dead,
Come back to sell you all, I shall smell you all"--
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: "That is not how I vote at all.
That is not it, at all."

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the fun set and the shipyards and the wrinkled sheets,
After the novel, after the hiccups, after the nose that trails along the floors--
And Kos, and Media Whores--
It is impossible to know just why I'm mean!
But as if a manic slattern slew the pervs on ladders in a screed:
Would it have been with child
If one, settling a pillow or throwing up on call,
And turning toward the window, should spew:
"That is not it at all,
That is not how I vote, at all."
. . . . .
No! I am no ham omelette, nor was meant to be;
Petrol attendant, bored, one that will screw
To stifle progress, start a war or two,
Advise the Dick; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to disabuse,
Lunatic, caustic, and supercilious;
Full of false sentence, can't define "obtuse";
The times, indeed, almost ridiculous--
I am, for you, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...
I prefer my money rolled.

Shall I kiss your left behind? Do I dare to be impeached?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and strut upon the stage.
I have heard Travolta singing, to my age.

I do not think that he will sing of me.

I have seen them hiding leeward in the caves
Bombing the dark hair of the slaves blown back
With my thoughts forever white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the star
By star-whores wreathed with seafoam green and crown
Till human votes awake them, and we drown.

Thursday, October 21, 2004


MESSY ANTICS

Preying or begging? These Messianics prey on youthful ignorance, and then beg forgiveness after their sins. What should be done about these cult leaders?

- Pat Robertson says Bush told him there would be no casualties in Iraq war
- Why Pat Robertson said what he did
- No casualties? White House disputes Robertson comment
- Phat Robertson pictorially

Sunday, October 17, 2004

Genius vs Groupthink: Dittoholes, Freepers and Bushies

DULL MINDS THINK ALIKE

All the wit in the world is lost upon him who has none.
- La Bruyère


America is eaten up with groupthink. But those who most suffer are those who are merely echo chambers of talking points. And while Progressive bloggers may link and direct readers to other sources, they also tend to offer their own original observations, and on a wider range of topics. When have you heard a Conservative blogger talk about Sufism, Taoism, Kama Sutra, the law of Reciprocal Maintenence, Tantrism, or the Categorical Imperative? And the pundits, anchors, and talkingheads are even worse, since they should be counted up to have either done their homework, or have something original to say. But it never turns out that way. All they ever do is say what has already been said a hundred times. And these folks make good money. They have, as Schopenhauer says, chosen Champaign over freedom.

Schopenhauer on Genius
[from "Parerga"]

EXCERPTS & COMMENTARY

ART, LITERATURE & NOBLESSE OBLIGE
No difference of rank, position, or birth, is so great as the gulf that separates the countless millions who use their head only in the service of their belly, in other words, look upon it as an instrument of the will, and those very few and rare persons who have the courage to say: No! it is too good for that; my head shall be active only in its own service; it shall try to comprehend the wondrous and varied spectacle of this world, and then reproduce it in some form, whether as art or as literature, that may answer to my character as an individual. These are the truly noble, the real noblesse of the world.

Bloggers are the noblesse of the world, unlike your George Stephanopoulises and your Bill O'Reillys and your Claire Shipmans...who have sold out their brains to Daddy Warbucks. Here we are, two weeks before the election, and even the Sunday shows that you might think would have some diversity of opinion...are a pompom fest for Bush, replete with RNC talking points and lies about Bush actually "tieing or winning" the last debate...even though Bush was a frothing Goofus acting like Butthead, and receiving signals from Rove and Metatron.

Do the math. These people are even less intelligent than Bush. Write that down and never forget it. The respect is out the window. May they finally be compensated what little they are worth.
. . .

DULL MINDS THINK ALIKE
The difference between the genius and the ordinary man [dittohole] is, no doubt, a quantitative one, in so far as it is a difference of degree; but I am tempted to regard it also as qualitative, in view of the fact that ordinary minds, notwithstanding individual variation, have a certain tendency to think alike. Thus on similar occasions their thoughts at once all take a similar direction, and run on the same lines; and this explains why their judgments constantly agree—not, however, because they are based on truth. To such lengths does this go that certain fundamental views obtain amongst mankind at all times, and are always being repeated and brought forward anew, whilst the great minds of all ages are in open or secret opposition to them.

This partly explains why so many bloggers are so pissed at the mainstream media. They all think alike! Their minds are dull. They systematically lower the standards of the viewing public. And dittoheads even trumpet their fascism by announcing their compliance unon entering the public arena, apparently unaware of just how pornofornocacophagomaniacal they appear to the entirely decentralized International League of Genius. Wipe that booger from your nose, boy! Lest I remove it with my big toe.
. . .

DETACH AND DISCOVER THE TRUE NATURE OF THINGS
In order to have original, uncommon, and perhaps even immortal thoughts, it is enough to estrange oneself so fully from the world of things for a few moments, that the most ordinary objects and events appear quite new and unfamiliar. In this way their true nature is disclosed. What is here demanded cannot, perhaps, be said to be difficult; it is not in our power at all, but is just the province of genius.
. . .

LIGHTHOUSES OF HUMANITY

The mind of genius. . . sends forth light of its own, while the others reflect only that which they have received.


The mere man of learning, who spends his life in teaching what he has learned, is not strictly to be called a man of genius; just as idio-electrical bodies are not conductors. Nay, genius stands to mere learning as the words to the music in a song. A man of learning is a man who has learned a great deal; a man of genius, one from whom we learn something which the genius has learned from nobody.
Great minds, of which there is scarcely one in a hundred millions, are thus the lighthouses of humanity; and without them mankind would lose itself in the boundless sea of monstrous error and bewilderment.
And so the simple man of learning, in the strict sense of the word—the ordinary professor, for instance—looks upon the genius much as we look upon a hare, which is good to eat after it has been killed and dressed up. So long as it is alive, it is only good to shoot at.

Consider, if you will, the treatment of bloggers by many paid "real" journalists...

He continues...

He who wishes to experience gratitude from his contemporaries, must adjust his pace to theirs. But great things are never produced in this way. And he who wants to do great things must direct his gaze to posterity, and in firm confidence elaborate his work for coming generations. No doubt, the result may be that he will remain quite unknown to his contemporaries, and comparable to a man who, compelled to spend his life upon a lonely island, with great effort sets up a monument there, to transmit to future sea-farers the knowledge of his existence. If he thinks it a hard fate, let him console himself with the reflection that the ordinary man who lives for practical aims only, often suffers a like fate, without having any compensation to hope for; inasmuch as he may, under favorable conditions, spend a life of material production, earning, buying, building, fertilizing, laying out, founding, establishing, beautifying with daily effort and unflagging zeal, and all the time think that he is working for himself; and yet in the end it is his descendants who reap the benefit of it all, and sometimes not even his descendants. It is the same with the man of genius; he, too, hopes for his reward and for honor at least; and at last finds that he has worked for posterity alone. Both, to be sure, have inherited a great deal from their ancestors.

So worry ye not, fellow bloggers, about whether or not you are "discovered" or "strike it rich". You would not be a blogger if all you wanted was wealth or fame. At least you would not spend much time on it, which is, after what one does...since most do it for free, or very little. Your blog is a record that surely exceeds space, and hopefully exceeds time.
. . .
It is not only in the activity of his highest powers that the genius surpasses ordinary people. A man who is unusually well-knit, supple and agile, will perform all his movements with exceptional ease, even with comfort, because he takes a direct pleasure in an activity for which he is particularly well-equipped, and therefore often exercises it without any object. Further, if he is an acrobat or a dancer, not only does he take leaps which other people cannot execute, but he also betrays rare elasticity and agility in those easier steps which others can also perform, and even in ordinary walking.

I am somehow reminded here of Herr Bush's performance during the the debates. Supple and agile hardly describe it...

In the same way a man of superior mind will not only produce thoughts and works which could never have come from another; it will not be here alone that he will show his greatness; but as knowledge and thought form a mode of activity natural and easy to him, he will also delight himself in them at all times, and so apprehend small matters which are within the range of other minds, more easily, quickly and correctly than they. Thus he will take a direct and lively pleasure in every increase of Knowledge, every problem solved, every witty thought, whether of his own or another’s; and so his mind will have no further aim than to be constantly active. This will be an inexhaustible spring of delight; and boredom, that spectre which haunts the ordinary man, can never come near him.
. . .
Modesty in a great mind would, no doubt, be pleasing to the world; but, unluckily, it is a contradictio in adjecto. It would compel a genius to give the thoughts and opinions, nay, even the method and style, of the million preference over his own; to set a higher value upon them; and, wide apart as they are, to bring his views into harmony with theirs, or even suppress them altogether, so as to let the others hold the field. In that case, however, he would either produce nothing at all, or else his achievements would be just upon a level with theirs. Great, genuine and extraordinary work can be done only in so far as its author disregards the method, the thoughts, the opinions of his contemporaries, and quietly works on, in spite of their criticism, on his side despising what they praise. No one becomes great without arrogance of this sort. Should his life and work fall upon a time which cannot recognize and appreciate him, he is at any rate true to himself; like some noble traveler forced to pass the night in a miserable inn; when morning comes, he contentedly goes his way.
. . .
...with ordinary people...leisure has no value in itself, nor is it, indeed, without its dangers, as these people seem to know. The technical work of our time, which is done to an unprecedented perfection, has, by increasing and multiplying objects of luxury, given the favorites of fortune a choice between more leisure and culture upon the one side, and additional luxury and good living, but with increased activity, upon the other; and, true to their character, they choose the latter, and prefer champagne to freedom.
. . .
A man of talent will strive for money and reputation; but the spring that moves genius to the production of its works is not as easy to name. Wealth is seldom its reward.
. . .
On a closer examination, it seems as though, in the case of a genius, the will to live, which is the spirit of the human species, were conscious of having, by some rare chance, and for a brief period, attained a greater clearness of vision, and were now trying to secure it, or at least the outcome of it, for the whole species, to which the individual genius in his inmost being belongs; so that the light which he sheds about him may pierce the darkness and dullness of ordinary human consciousness and there produce some good effect.
Arising in some such way, this instinct drives the genius to carry his work to completion, without thinking of reward or applause or sympathy; to leave all care for his own personal welfare; to make his life one of industrious solitude, and to strain his faculties to the utmost. He thus comes to think more about posterity than about contemporaries; because, while the latter can only lead him astray, posterity forms the majority of the species, and time will gradually bring the discerning few who can appreciate him. Meanwhile it is with him as with the artist described by Goethe; he has no princely patron to prize his talents, no friend to rejoice with him:


Ein Fürst der die Talente schätzt,
Ein Freund, der sich mit mir ergötzt,
Die haben leider mir gefehlt.

His work is, as it were, a sacred object and the true fruit of his life, and his aim in storing it away for a more discerning posterity will be to make it the property of mankind. An aim like this far surpasses all others, and for it he wears the crown of thorns which is one day to bloom into a wreath of laurel. All his powers are concentrated in the effort to complete and secure his work; just as the insect, in the last stage of its development, uses its whole strength on behalf of a brood it will never live to see; it puts its eggs in some place of safety, where, as it well knows, the young will one day find life and nourishment, and then dies in confidence.








Bush to Privatize Social Security

Bush's January Surprise

Saturday, October 16, 2004

Bush & Sharon are preparing for war with Iran




WAR MONKEY


Bush will need a draft after we go to war with Iran and Syria.

With their tanks, and their bombs
And their bombs, and their guns
In your head, in your head they are cryin'
In your head, in your head, Zombie, Zombie
-Cranberries

FROM SALON'S TABLE TALK. ORIGINAL LINK NOT INCLUDED.

A senior intelligence officer in Tel Aviv revealed that President Bush "is now firmly convinced that Iran poses a greater threat to Israel than Iraq did". And a senior Pentagon official has further confirmed that a number of Department of Defence planners have recently travelled to Tel Aviv to discuss plans to attack Iran.
Meanwhile the Iran regime continues to threaten its own pre-emptive strike against Israel.
A military parade through Tehran has displayed a range of military missiles. On a Shabab-2 missile capable of hitting Tel Aviv or Jerusalem a banner proclaimed: "Israel must be wiped off the map." Another missile carried a banner warning: "We will crush Israel under our might". A third missile boasted: "With this weapon we can hit the American fleet in the Mediterranean and the Gulf".
But any pre-emptive attack by Israel is unlikely to come until the IAEA deadline for Tehran to stop all work on Uranium enrichment. This expires a few days after the US November election. So far Tehran has refused to agree to meat the deadline.

Friday, October 15, 2004

Why Jon Stewart is God

Jon Stewart is God. Jon Stewart is a good steward.
Stewart means steward. And being a good steward is doing God's work on earth.
By standing up to the paymasters, the Mammoniacal, The Overblown, Jon Stewart is David standing up to Goliath, Moses parting the bloody sea. Literally enthused.

Thanks to another David, David Brock, for all his great work, and for providing this wondrous clip of Jon Stewart confronting the Goliath of CNN.


EXCERPTS:

STEWART: Now, this is theater. It's obvious. How old are you?
[CROSSTALK]
CARLSON: Thirty-five. STEWART: And you wear a bow tie.

STEWART: You know, the interesting thing I have is, you have a responsibility to the public discourse, and you fail miserably.
CARLSON: You need to get a job at a journalism school, I think.
STEWART: You need to go to one.

CARLSON: What's it like to have dinner with you? It must be excruciating. Do you like lecture people like this or do you come over to their house and sit and lecture them; they're not doing the right thing, that they're missing their opportunities, evading their responsibilities? STEWART: If I think they are.
[LAUGHTER]
CARLSON: I wouldn't want to eat with you, man. That's horrible.
STEWART: I know. And you won't.


What we are listening to at Anonymoses

Here are the artists that Anonymoses is now previewing:

Vines, Eels, Badly Drawn Boy, Modest Mouse, Gomez, Chris Chalfant, Edgar Meyer, Gorecki, Part, Cecil Taylor, John Beckwith, Sima Bina, Brij Bhushan Kabra, Travis, White Stripes, Joanne Shenandoah, Dar Williams, Ryan Adams, Beth Orton, Ya la Tengo, Ween, Elf Power, Sabra Callas, Natacha Atlas Gedida, Push Stars, Lori Carson, Josh Joplin, Flaming Lips, Steven Foster, Ben Kweller, The Walkmen, Anais Mitchell, Psycho Serious, Emily Easterly, Richard Buckner, David Glaser, Counting Crows, Ellis Paul, Nino Rota, Chris Trapper, Strawbs, Bigger Than The Beetles, James Taylor, Bonnie Raitt, REM, Pearl Jam, Jackson Brown, Babyface, John Fogerty, Naked Karma, Dave Matthews, Bruce Springsteen, and a few others...

Jesus: The Anti-war Candidate

Did Jesus ever say, "Do unto others before they do unto you."?

I didn't think so...

The Nosepin Zone

Shoot! Someone else has already developed it.
Meet The Nosepin Zone.


Wednesday, October 13, 2004

SPITBALLS!!: Bush has a ball of spittle on his mouth


FROTHING BLINKARD

Bush has a ball of spittle on his lip.
Bush's last debate...ever

Prescient Zell Miller Warned: SPITBALLS!!!

Saturday, October 09, 2004

The Soros Blog

Thoughts on the Iraq war and the current administration by George Soros.

We do not own the FactCheck.com domain name and are not responsible for it redirecting to GeorgeSoros.com. We are as surprised as anyone by this turn of events. We believe that Vice President Cheney intended to direct viewers of the Vice-Presidential Debate to FactCheck.org.

Is Bush Wired?

Manchurian Resident, George W. Bush, needs help.

COUNTING ON DEMOCRACY

Forget the hanging chads and butterfly ballots. The Presidential election drama of 2000 is still a mystery to most Americans. COUNTING ON DEMOCRACY investigates charges of disenfranchisement and 180,000 uncounted Florida votes cast largely by the working poor and people of color, uncovering racial exclusion, voting rights violations and the subverting of a recount in the most contested and controversial election in U.S. history. Running Time: 74 min.

Friday, October 08, 2004

POLL: Why did Kerry win this debate?

Take this poll.

Kerry wins every exchange & debate

Play back each exchange. Pause at the end. Score it.

Kerry won every time.

He is the clear winner. Period.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

BLOGGERS: Documenting the Media Coup of 2004

Teaching Newspeople the value of impartiality.
Holding them accountable for their crimes...captured in millions of recording homes.


"The rank of a disinterested (impartial) mind is so high that what it sees is true, what it desires comes to pass, what it commands must be done." - Avicenna

"A mind unmoved by any contigent affection or sorrow, or honor, or slander, or vice, is really disinterested -- like a broad mountain that is not shaken by a gentle wind. Unmovable disinterest brings man into his closest resemblance to God (Truth). His purity is derived from it..." - Meister Eckhart




Disinterest does not mean uninterested, but rather having no special interest in the outcome (among other things)...or, in other words impartial; unbiased.

Who should be the paragons of disinterested impartiality if not those whose job's Hippocratic Oath, if you will, is to do just that -- namely, those who claim to provide the News. But most of those who are in such roles are mere posers, media whores, Mammon's puppets.
And these puppets are about to perpetrate a coup on the American people. They are going to do everything they can to shoehorn Bush and Cheney back into the White House...where they never belonged in the first place. And they are going to turn their backs on the Truth, and by doing so, reap their Faustian rewards, and forever lose the trust of humanity, and even God...who, as Eckhart says: "gives himself to the disinterested heart."

It is our job, as bloggers, to document this descent, and this attempted coup.

So...how can we make these folks understand our need for them to be impartial?

And what does it say about us that we want unbiased Truth?

Here's the deal, folks: The Truth always finds it way back to the light. And it exposes those forces of darkness that tried to suppress it.

Taoists keenly know this. And Taoists know that this current administration has, at every occasion, taken the path that is agaist the Tao. Against Nature. Against the Spirit. Or said differently...against Heaven AND Earth.

A pity really...for "what is against the Tao doesn't last long." A pity for those ignorant relative few who drank their poison koodade, and other pollutions.

And now they are polluting the Truth, and by doing so, polluting our minds and hearts.

Time to Flush Bush: Champion of Partiality and Division.

But as for us bloggers...it is, again, our job to document all the lies and distortions and diversions they hurl at us. For these things will come back to indict them.

Maybe then they will simply stick to the truth. And practice practice practice at becoming disinterested...even at the peril of their jobs.

Have they not squirreled away ANY F.U. money?

Surely they have, all.

Journalists of the world, awake!

Join the bloggers in being the clear eyes of the world, watching.

Strive to be impartial, at all costs. You've spiritual rewards to gain.

Do not let America and the World down.

-Anonymoses Hyperlincoln


Take the poll at Daily Kos:
Which Newsperson or team is Impartial?

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

Anonymoses meets Elizabeth Edwards in Charlotte

From the Anonymoses NAMECALLING Series




CHARLOTTE--Fresh from a successful debate in Cleveland, Elizabeth Edwards, the wife of Senator John Edwards, brought her energy home to North Carolina and shared it with eager and exuberant Charlotteans. Among the eager and exuberant supporters was the blogger, Anonymoses Hyperlincoln, or he whom some call "Dave". More on that later.

Looking around Google News, you'd think Mrs. Edwards only said one thing, as they all seemed to pick up on that one thing and share it amongst themselves. She did not say just one thing. She said everything. And were I her counselor, I might tell her to save her breath, since the media are apparently too lazy or cheap to expend more ink on the future First Lady. Prescience is not one of their strong suits. But, then again, she was talking to the people, the Charlottean and veterans...not the soundbite hunters and gatherers...good people, all.

Most of the reporters I saw there must have been committing it to memory, since I only saw them pull out their pads once or twice, and then only briefly. And they get paid for this. Drink more coffee, gents!

But then again, I had a pad, and didn't use it. I suspect I was just as mesmerized by Mrs. Edwards and her guests as anyone else.

Her guests, whose names I sadly do not have, were two women whose lives have been direly impacted by Bush's poor judgement and decisions.

One young woman was in the Pentagon at the time of 9/11. She told us how she, and many others like her, were ushered out of the system in order to remove their own responsibility toward these unfortunates. Future unfortunates, I should say, as it was due to Bush and his policies that all she has was taken away.

The other guest had the room in tears, as she spoke of just how poorly the families of soldiers in Iraq are treated by the current misAdministration, and to a crowd largely made up of Veterans of Foreign Wars...who know this should not be happening, and feel, in their hearts, and identity with this young wife who is struggling, emotionally and financially, with the situation afforded her by George W. Bush, Man of the(rich)People.

During the visit, Mrs Edwards spoke on a broad range of topics, and showed that she has a grasp of the problems they will be facing, as well as the problems Americans are facing. But I really think people already know this about her. Most probably just want to meet her and exchange a few niceties, tips, and web addresses. So, again, I want to suggest that she relax, take it easy, have nice conversations with people...and not worry about making sure all the points are covered. There are too many to digest. This current administration has broken pottery in every way possible or imaginable. They are the anti-Tao, if you will...acting in direct antagonism to Nature and Spirit. Just seeing that you are genuine, authentic, honest, a champion of the people and truth...and yes, friendly, charming and graceful -- all of which come naturally -- is all she really need do. The rest is gravy. And I'm thankful for the gravy I sopped today. Hard to beat a good Southern gravy.

After wrapping up (which entails having operatives walk down the aisle with microphones in their hands, thus signalling Mrs Edwards that it was time for questions...and upon answering said questions...Mrs Edwards began greeting the crowd of well-wishers.

Being the gentleman that he is, Anonymoses Hyperlincoln, allowed elderly women to step in front of him, and have the first shake, all the while reminded of the saying about "the Baker serves his favorite last", and almost believing that, for some unknown reason, surely wrong, that he was, somehow, her favorite. Mrs' Edwards' reaction alerted him that this was indeed not the case, although she did spent a minute of two, and Mr. Hyperlincoln was able to congratulate her on her victory, and on her blogging. He said he wrote for Daily Kos and he was able to extend a greeting from the blogosphere. And he was able to invite her to come to his "Joycean blog, Anonymoses"...which she probably forgot just as quickly as she heard it.

A great visit. Try it.

John Edwards: Atticus wins the day...and debate

Cheney Contradicts Self During Debate
Edwards Upholds the Truth


Senator John Edwards


North Carolina Senator John Edwards not only did better than expected, he did better than any of the other contenders could have done.

Want proof?

Show us 10 places where Cheney won.
Then show us 10 where Edwards won.

Can't find ten for Cheney?

Case closed.

Edwards won again and again.

Contrast his performance with the performance of Joe Lieberman. Edwards said what needed to be said. He delivered the goods. Now learn from what you heard.


But guess what? The networks are calling it for Cheney! Even someone who should know better, like George Stephanopoulis, is spinning a Cheney victory.

Who is paying them to say such crap?

Wait for the commercial!

Oh look...a pharmaceutical ad!

Cut back to....no less than Joe Lieberman and Jack Kemp.

Ah! The liberal media!

ONLINE POLL RESULTS:

HARDBALL (MSNBC)
Edwards - 60%
Cheney - 40 %
1629277 responses

CBS NEWS
Edwards - 81%
Cheney - 17%

I looked at over a dozen online polls early this morning, and Edwards was the clear winner -- ranging from roughtly 70% to 90% -- in all but one of two polls.






Edwards lets Cheney know: HONEYMOON OVER!

Kerry/Edwards: A Code Green America

Democrats Win! World Erupts in Celebration!

Democratic Vision of the Future

Priorities: How to Beat Bush

MORE from Anonymoses

Edwards-Cheney Debate Transcripts

Read the transcripts.
Examine the evidence.


JOHN EDWARDS
Mr. Vice President, you are still not being straight with the American people. I mean, the reality you and George Bush continue to tell people, first, that things are going well in Iraq -- the American people don't need us to explain this to them, they see it on their television every single day. We lost more troops in September than we lost in August; lost more in August than we lost in July; lost more in July than we lost in June.
The truth is, our men and women in uniform have been heroic. Our military has done everything they've been asked to do.
And it's not just me that sees the mess in Iraq. There are Republican leaders, like John McCain, like Richard Lugar, like Chuck Hagel, who have said Iraq is a mess and it's getting worse.
And when they were asked why, Richard Lugar said because of the incompetence of the administration.
What Paul Bremer said yesterday is they didn't have enough troops to secure the country. They also didn't have a plan to win the peace. They also didn't put the alliances together to make this successful.
We need a fresh start. We need a president who will speed up the training of the Iraqis, get more staff in for doing that. We need to speed up the reconstruction so the Iraqis see some tangible benefit. We need a new president who has the credibility, which John Kerry has, to bring others into this effort.


MORE