> with the fact that

> we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe we're already

> dead)

> BUT rather

> IT

> comes from the common

> element

> that we were

> HATCHED !

>=20

> david rhaesa

> salina, Kansas

 

i forgot to put=20

in the first place

at the end=20

of this.

 

thanks, david

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 17:24:04 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      Re: pale blue eyes

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

 

RACE --- wrote:

>

> Malcolm Lawrence wrote:

> >

> > >Such a wonderful mixture of wonderful lines and some pretty shakey ones

> >

> > Well let's give Lou a little more credit by fixing your mistake.

> >

> > >She said money is like us in time

> > >It lies but can't stand up

> > >Count for you is up.

> >

> > COUNT for you is up?

> >

> > Ahem

> >

> > DOWN for you is up.

> >

> > As you were

> >

> > Malcs

>

> Basie is up and i am down and somewhere

> in between

> two children swing on a playground

> dreaming dreams

> that will be new dreams

> twenty years later

> when they're still

> dreamers

> and neither of their mother's

> ever

> understood them a lick.

>

> david rhaesa

> salina, Kansas

 

this is what talking to yourself looks like on a listserv....

 

bye bye

 

david

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 18:57:38 -0500

Reply-To:     Michael Skau <mskau@CWIS.UNOMAHA.EDU>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Michael Skau <mskau@CWIS.UNOMAHA.EDU>

Subject:      ketchup

Content-Type: text

 

Hi everyone.

Been gone for a couple of weeks on a brief vacation, so I'm a bit

behind on my e-mail. However, I wanted to put my foot in the door

even at the risk of stating something that someone else may have

already said (I've still got about a week of e-mail that I'm behind

on) or in dragging people back to a topic already discarded.

I was glad to see the Eliot-Burroughs St. Louis connection mentioned

because Burroughs uses allusions to Eliot repeatedly. Also interesting

about the facsimile publications of both _Waste Land_ and _Howl_. Other

possibilities too. I do not see how one can ignore the visionary qualities

in Eliot, particularly _Waste Land_, _Ash Wednesday_, and _Four Quartets_,

and he certainly touched the darkness of modern life; I would be hard-

pressed to try to think of a poem more angst-driven than Prufrock. In fact,

his "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons" seems to me to

capture exactly what the Beats were determined to try to avoid happening

to their lives; Prufrock knows what's wrong with his life, but he's too

chicken-shit to do anything about it--and Eliot knows this. If you take

the opening of _Waste Land_ and replace "cruelest" with "saddest" the

passage could come from Kerouac. Think also of Kerouac's cat poems and

_Ol' Possums Book of Practical Cats_; think of Eliot's Anglo-Catholicism

mixed with eastern religion (the "Da" of the end of _Waste Land_) and Kerouac's

Catholicism mixed with Buddhism.

Actually, however, I'm not sure how Eliot even got in here. IMHO the greatest

poet of the 20th century--and maybe of all time--was William Butler Yeats.

 

Heroin as a preservative? Maybe Burroughs doesn't have to die: he's already

embalmed himself while alive. I saw Iggy Pop earlier this month on the ROAR

tour: his energy was incredible and simply blew away younger bands like Tonic

and Sponge. Catch him if you can.

Writing on drugs: often I feel that I create some of my best work stoned. The

problem is that when I look at it again the next morning, I'm so embarrassed

that I can only pray that I hadn't somehow shown it to anybody: Ginsberg's

"in the morning were stanzas of gibberish." A Hallucination Dissertation

Manifesto of Coca, Saturn, and Sun.

 

In terms of epiphanies, in a letter to neal Cassady dated 27 June 1948,

Kerouac referred to the Des Moines experience: You know that I have hitch-

hiked around and have been alone in weird cities and places, and waked up in

the morning not knowing who I was (particularly one time in Des Moines)"

(_Selected Letters_ p. 155). Sometimes artists begin to see their lives

in symbolic terms.

More later.

Cordially,

Mike Skau

6/22/97

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 19:52:00 +0000

Reply-To:     "neudorf@discovland.net" <neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         "neudorf@discovland.net" <neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>

Subject:      Drugs & Spontaneity

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

 

In response to Mike Skau's:

 

> Writing on drugs: often I feel that I create some of my best work stoned. The

> problem is that when I look at it again the next morning, I'm so embarrassed

> that I can only pray that I hadn't somehow shown it to anybody: Ginsberg's

> "in the morning were stanzas of gibberish." A Hallucination Dissertation

> Manifesto of Coca, Saturn, and Sun.

 

 

To paraphrase Gary Snyder, he states that ("The Real Work" interviews)

if you write

*under the influence* of psychedelics, it is as if you are entering the

cave and

*stopping* at the first gold pieces, instead of experiencing the cave

for the cave, reaching farther into the cave where the diamonds lie.

Writing is a form of documentation, and if you are constantly

documenting, the pure experience, the beauty of the trip is compromised.

 

        It is more rewarding to write after the fact - a little time for

contemplation - understanding of the trip - Wordsworth writes: "poetry

is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings [which is the trip] . .

. recollected in tranquility" [after the trip].

 

        This is a good issue for discussion. Spontaneous writing . . . there is

definately a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the

discipline of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.

When the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing

else to do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his

language that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,

then stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.

 

Joseph Neudorfer

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 19:58:25 +0000

Reply-To:     "neudorf@discovland.net" <neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         "neudorf@discovland.net" <neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>

Subject:      Rocks

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

 

In response to Charles Plymell's:

 

> The rock is cold on the outside and hot on the inside. I think that was Tao

> or some chinese poet philosopher going off in my head, but I can understand

> the physics of it. We could all preach to  ourselves a little more.

 

They say if you pray to a rock with enough devotion, it will live.

Joseph Neudorfer

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 19:53:02 -0500

Reply-To:     =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?= <ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?= <ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

In-Reply-To:  <33ADA5C5.1D36@midusa.net>

Mime-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"

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>RACE --- wrote:

>>

>> Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

>>

>> > yeah. the only reason we do anything is because we know we're going to

>>die.

>>

>> ok now that 2 folks have said this

>> i'm going to open my

>> little soapbox up and stand on it

>> like a preacher from the

>> temple of the Harvest Moon

>> and teach y'all a thing or two

>> about chickens

>> and eggs

>> and why we do anything including writing

>> it has much less to do

>> with the fact that

>> we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe we're already

>> dead)

>> BUT rather

>> IT

>> comes from the common

>> element

>> that we were

>> HATCHED !

>>

>> david rhaesa

>> salina, Kansas

>

seems to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not quibble. death,

birth, let's call it all off.

 

"Lies! Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!

There is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,

there is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,

and this too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso

 

 

-leo jilk

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 20:02:54 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      Re: Drugs & Spontaneity

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

 

RACE --- wrote:

>

> neudorf@discovland.net wrote:

> >

> > In response to Mike Skau's:

> >

> > > Writing on drugs: often I feel that I create some of my best work stoned.

 The

> > > problem is that when I look at it again the next morning, I'm so

 embarrassed

> > > that I can only pray that I hadn't somehow shown it to anybody: Ginsberg's

> > > "in the morning were stanzas of gibberish." A Hallucination Dissertation

> > > Manifesto of Coca, Saturn, and Sun.

> >

> > To paraphrase Gary Snyder, he states that ("The Real Work" interviews)

> > if you write

> > *under the influence* of psychedelics, it is as if you are entering the

> > cave and

> > *stopping* at the first gold pieces, instead of experiencing the cave

> > for the cave, reaching farther into the cave where the diamonds lie.

> > Writing is a form of documentation, and if you are constantly

> > documenting, the pure experience, the beauty of the trip is compromised.

> >

> >         It is more rewarding to write after the fact - a little time for

> > contemplation - understanding of the trip - Wordsworth writes: "poetry

> > is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings [which is the trip] . .

> > . recollected in tranquility" [after the trip].

> >

> >         This is a good issue for discussion. Spontaneous writing . . . there

 is

> > definately a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the

> > discipline of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.

> > When the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing

> > else to do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his

> > language that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,

> > then stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.

> >

> > Joseph Neudorfer

>

> First, seems Mr. Snyder understood psychedlics about as well as a turtle

> on a road.

>

> Second, layered writing allows the gold pieces and the diamond and the

> shadows on the cave walls.  anyone caught by a couple damn metaphorical

> gold pieces amidst the roar of the universe and the abyss in the mirror

> wasn't cut out to do crap in the beginning.  shouldn't have let them

> near those magic potions.

>

> Third, stream of consciousness spontaneity is a vision and then one can

> go back with to the same location and jump back in the stream with the

> distance of (time, space, reflection, contemplation - pick your poison).

>

> Fourth, the urge to burn it, the embarrassment that one might have shown

> something to somebody is something i can relate to.  usually those are

> the one that i find most exciting to jump back into after about six

> months.  and sometimes some of it didn't make sense ... so just put some

> more nonsense next to it and some folks will think you have these

> distorted images in your brain and were able to write it down.

>

> Fifth, typing under the influence is the same garbage as the whole

> establishment drug mythology.  we're all under the influence.  pick your

> poison - OJ or Marlboro Reds.

>

> I now will

> pack up my soap box

> feed my dog

> and my pony

> and head on down

> the road

> and up the third holler

> to my great grandpa's grave on a misty

> morning as the sun rises

> over the mill of the

> true

> MUSE

> and i'll shut my trap so y'all

> can figure out what reality is at let me in on the secret.

>

> sincerely,

>

> david rhaesa

> salina, Kansas

 

HEY RACE

 

you moron learn how to mail the damn messages or stay off the

spaceship!!!!

 

yours truly,

 

race

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 20:09:00 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      Re: Rocks

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

 

neudorf@discovland.net wrote:

>

> In response to Charles Plymell's:

>

> > The rock is cold on the outside and hot on the inside. I think that was Tao

> > or some chinese poet philosopher going off in my head, but I can understand

> > the physics of it. We could all preach to  ourselves a little more.

>

> They say if you pray to a rock with enough devotion, it will live.

> Joseph Neudorfer

 

who is they - the rocks???? i bet they pass a nice collection plate to

you too!  sounds like cheap con blackmail to me.

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 20:14:27 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1

Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable

 

Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

>=20

> >RACE --- wrote:

> >>

> >> Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

> >>

> >> > yeah. the only reason we do anything is because we know we're goin=

g to

> >>die.

> >>

> >> ok now that 2 folks have said this

> >> i'm going to open my

> >> little soapbox up and stand on it

> >> like a preacher from the

> >> temple of the Harvest Moon

> >> and teach y'all a thing or two

> >> about chickens

> >> and eggs

> >> and why we do anything including writing

> >> it has much less to do

> >> with the fact that

> >> we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe we're alrea=

dy

> >> dead)

> >> BUT rather

> >> IT

> >> comes from the common

> >> element

> >> that we were

> >> HATCHED !

> >>

> >> david rhaesa

> >> salina, Kansas

> >

> seems to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not quibble. death,

> birth, let's call it all off.

>=20

> "Lies! Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!

> There is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,

> there is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,

> and this too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso

>=20

> -leo jilk

 

this corso guy sounds interesting.  i've always doubted that much was

around pre-1960.  all a lie, a dream, a pair of spiders tangoing in a

great Snake ritual or whatever but i am here and i imagine you're there

and we're both in this cyber-reality and so i ain't sure a lie is a lie

at all and i don't even really know what a lie is ...=20

 

what is a lie?  now that's one for the final exam!  i bet that's the

first question on the post-death exam....

 

1)  what is a lie?

 

2)  why are you here?

 

short answers only ....

 

grades will be distributed by secret committee of saints and angels and

if you're real lucky you may hear from us or get on a wait-list.

 

otherwise ...

hell, recincarnation ain't bad.  maybe you can be a rock next time and

get people to pray to you.

 

 

david rhaesa

salina, Kansas

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:01:07 -0700

Reply-To:     Diane Carter <dcarter@TOGETHER.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Diane Carter <dcarter@TOGETHER.NET>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1

Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable

 

>Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

> >

> > > > seems to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not quibble. de=

ath,

> > birth, let's call it all off.

> >

> > "Lies! Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!

> > There is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,

> > there is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,

> > and this too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso

> >

> > -leo jilk

 

> RACE --- wrote:

> this corso guy sounds interesting.  i've always doubted that much was

> around pre-1960.  all a lie, a dream, a pair of spiders tangoing in a

> great Snake ritual or whatever but i am here and i imagine you're there

> and we're both in this cyber-reality and so i ain't sure a lie is a lie

> at all and i don't even really know what a lie is ...

>=20

> what is a lie?  now that's one for the final exam!  i bet that's the

> first question on the post-death exam....

>=20

> 1)  what is a lie?

>=20

> 2)  why are you here?

>=20

> short answers only ....

>=20

> grades will be distributed by secret committee of saints and angels and

> if you're real lucky you may hear from us or get on a wait-list.

>=20

> otherwise ...

> hell, recincarnation ain't bad.  maybe you can be a rock next time and

> get people to pray to you.

>=20

> david rhaesa

> salina, Kansas

 

Sorry, guys, but all this talk of birth and eggs and reincarnation made=20

me go entirely out of the beat universe, to this quote from Wordsworth,

 

"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:=20

The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,

    Hath had elsewhere its setting,

       And cometh from afar:

    Not in entire forgetfulness,

    And not in utter nakedness..."

 

DC

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 21:13:04 -0500

Reply-To:     =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?= <ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?= <ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

In-Reply-To:  <33ADCDF3.4E0D@midusa.net>

Mime-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"

Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable

 

RACE --- wrote:

 

>Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

>>

>> >RACE --- wrote:

>> >>

>> >> Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

>> >>

>> >> > yeah. the only reason we do anything is because we know we're going =

to

>> >>die.

>> >>

>> >> ok now that 2 folks have said this

>> >> i'm going to open my

>> >> little soapbox up and stand on it

>> >> like a preacher from the

>> >> temple of the Harvest Moon

>> >> and teach y'all a thing or two

>> >> about chickens

>> >> and eggs

>> >> and why we do anything including writing

>> >> it has much less to do

>> >> with the fact that

>> >> we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe we're already

>> >> dead)

>> >> BUT rather

>> >> IT

>> >> comes from the common

>> >> element

>> >> that we were

>> >> HATCHED !

>> >>

>> >> david rhaesa

>> >> salina, Kansas

>> >

>> seems to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not quibble. death,

>> birth, let's call it all off.

>>

>> "Lies! Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!

>> There is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,

>> there is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,

>> and this too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso

>>

>> -leo jilk

>

>this corso guy sounds interesting.  i've always doubted that much was

>around pre-1960.

 

that is actually quite amusing.

 

 all a lie, a dream, a pair of spiders tangoing in a

>great Snake ritual or whatever but i am here and i imagine you're there

>and we're both in this cyber-reality and so i ain't sure a lie is a lie

>at all and i don't even really know what a lie is ...

 

i always get the same response when i send that to people. the last person

simply wrote back, "i don't believe you."

 

>

>what is a lie?  now that's one for the final exam!  i bet that's the

>first question on the post-death exam....

>

>1)  what is a lie?

>

>2)  why are you here?

>

>short answers only ....

>

>grades will be distributed by secret committee of saints and angels and

>if you're real lucky you may hear from us or get on a wait-list.

>

>otherwise ...

>hell, recincarnation ain't bad.  maybe you can be a rock next time and

>get people to pray to you.

>

>

>david rhaesa

>salina, Kansas

 

there has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LIE.

Imagine a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of water

where some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from inside,

others retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes

extended mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a grain of

salt inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all there

ever shall be until another day or another group of words, or some foreign

color comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures for a

time, or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, which

is no more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blinders on

to a painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean on that

day when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore barren

and dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.

Nothing lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamoring

life, a history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a part, a

day at the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will see or

the last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little black

mudskipper, with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded in

hide, at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to the

things of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microcosmic

embodiment of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in the

scene of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of men,

and all of the strivings and failures that will be.

 

-leo jilk

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 21:26:32 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1

Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable

 

Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

>=20

> RACE --- wrote:

>=20

> >Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

> >>

> >> >RACE --- wrote:

> >> >>

> >> >> Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

> >> >>

> >> >> > yeah. the only reason we do anything is because we know we're g=

oing to

> >> >>die.

> >> >>

> >> >> ok now that 2 folks have said this

> >> >> i'm going to open my

> >> >> little soapbox up and stand on it

> >> >> like a preacher from the

> >> >> temple of the Harvest Moon

> >> >> and teach y'all a thing or two

> >> >> about chickens

> >> >> and eggs

> >> >> and why we do anything including writing

> >> >> it has much less to do

> >> >> with the fact that

> >> >> we're going to die (supposedly - maybe/who knows - maybe we're al=

ready

> >> >> dead)

> >> >> BUT rather

> >> >> IT

> >> >> comes from the common

> >> >> element

> >> >> that we were

> >> >> HATCHED !

> >> >>

> >> >> david rhaesa

> >> >> salina, Kansas

> >> >

> >> seems to me that chickens do & die too, but let's not quibble. death=

,

> >> birth, let's call it all off.

> >>

> >> "Lies! Lies! Lies! I lie, you lie, we all lie!

> >> There is no us, there is no world, there is no universe,

> >> there is no life, no death, no nothing--all is meaningless,

> >> and this too is a lie--O damned 1959!" --Gregory Corso

> >>

> >> -leo jilk

> >

> >this corso guy sounds interesting.  i've always doubted that much was

> >around pre-1960.

>=20

> that is actually quite amusing.

>=20

>  all a lie, a dream, a pair of spiders tangoing in a

> >great Snake ritual or whatever but i am here and i imagine you're ther=

e

> >and we're both in this cyber-reality and so i ain't sure a lie is a li=

e

> >at all and i don't even really know what a lie is ...

>=20

> i always get the same response when i send that to people. the last per=

son

> simply wrote back, "i don't believe you."

>=20

> >

> >what is a lie?  now that's one for the final exam!  i bet that's the

> >first question on the post-death exam....

> >

> >1)  what is a lie?

> >

> >2)  why are you here?

> >

> >short answers only ....

> >

> >grades will be distributed by secret committee of saints and angels an=

d

> >if you're real lucky you may hear from us or get on a wait-list.

> >

> >otherwise ...

> >hell, recincarnation ain't bad.  maybe you can be a rock next time and

> >get people to pray to you.

> >

> >

> >david rhaesa

> >salina, Kansas

>=20

> there has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LIE.

> Imagine a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of wat=

er

> where some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from insid=

e,

> others retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes

> extended mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a grain=

 of

> salt inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all ther=

e

> ever shall be until another day or another group of words, or some fore=

ign

> color comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures fo=

r a

> time, or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, wh=

ich

> is no more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blinder=

s on

> to a painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean on =

that

> day when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore barre=

n

> and dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.

> Nothing lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamorin=

g

> life, a history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a par=

t, a

> day at the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will see =

or

> the last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little black

> mudskipper, with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded in

> hide, at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to t=

he

> things of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microcos=

mic

> embodiment of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in the

> scene of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of men=

,

> and all of the strivings and failures that will be.

>=20

> -leo jilk

 

interesting answer.  the Committee will consider it and send you the

Committee's decision on the appropriate response to your answer.

 

sincerely,

 

the Commmittee

 

 

david rhaesa

salina, Kansas

 

p.s.  i wasn't joking about Corso.  he sounds like an interesting guy

and someone it would be good to hang out with (at least once or twice).=20

i don't know that he or anyone else deserves to be quoted chapter and

verse like saint paul the skip tracer or something.

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 00:04:50 -0700

Reply-To:     Diane Carter <dcarter@TOGETHER.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Diane Carter <dcarter@TOGETHER.NET>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

MIME-Version: 1.0

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>Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

>=20

> there has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LIE.

> Imagine a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of wat=

er

> where some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from insid=

e,

> others retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes

> extended mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a grain=

 of

> salt inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all ther=

e

> ever shall be until another day or another group of words, or some fore=

ign

> color comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures fo=

r a

> time, or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, wh=

ich

> is no more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blinder=

s on

> to a painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean on =

that

> day when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore barre=

n

> and dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.

> Nothing lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamorin=

g

> life, a history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a par=

t, a

> day at the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will see =

or

> the last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little black

> mudskipper, with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded in

> hide, at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to t=

he

> things of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microcos=

mic

> embodiment of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in the

> scene of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of men=

,

> and all of the strivings and failures that will be.

>=20

> -leo jilk

 

 

Are you saying that LIE and IT are the same thing?

DC

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 20:47:48 -0700

Reply-To:     runner911 <babu@ELECTRICITI.COM>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         runner911 <babu@ELECTRICITI.COM>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

In-Reply-To:  <33ADCA8B.55F7@together.net>

Mime-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

 

At 5:59 PM -0700 6/22/97, Diane Carter wrote:

 

> Anyone out there got an feelings about this?

 

just pulled in from a trip to LA.  gave myself over to a woman who took me

walking, took me swimming, gave me food and water.  The warm air, the beer,

the gentle times, her companionship sure gave my mind an ease.  For the 125

odd miles home I sustained a centered soul.  sustaining is not the word.

my whispers were heard and I was sustained.  thank you T, and hallelujah to

the rest.

 

please god, do not let me grow old alone.

 

cheers, Douglas

 

 

http://www.electriciti.com/babu/                summer

save it, just keep it off my wave               is

  -- ("my wave," soundgarden)                   here

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 22:45:57 -0500

Reply-To:     =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?= <ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         =?iso-8859-1?Q?Sinverg=FCenza?= <ljilk@GUINAN.MPS.ORG>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

In-Reply-To:  <33AE2012.1416@together.net>

Mime-Version: 1.0

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>>Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

>>

>> there has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LIE.

>> Imagine a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of water

>> where some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from inside,

>> others retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes

>> extended mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a grain o=

f

>> salt inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all there

>> ever shall be until another day or another group of words, or some foreig=

n

>> color comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures for =

a

>> time, or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, whic=

h

>> is no more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blinders =

on

>> to a painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean on th=

at

>> day when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore barren

>> and dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.

>> Nothing lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamoring

>> life, a history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a part,=

 a

>> day at the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will see or

>> the last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little black

>> mudskipper, with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded in

>> hide, at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to the

>> things of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microcosmi=

c

>> embodiment of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in the

>> scene of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of men,

>> and all of the strivings and failures that will be.

>>

>> -leo jilk

>

>

>Are you saying that LIE and IT are the same thing?

>DC

 

well...they could be. actually, i did not intend them to be the same thing.

in fact, i can't guarantee that anything in my post had too much to do with

the word lie. i was just letting my mind roam for a moment.

 

-leo

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:57:22 -0400

Reply-To:     "R. Bentz Kirby" <bocelts@SCSN.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         "R. Bentz Kirby" <bocelts@SCSN.NET>

Organization: Law Office of R. Bentz Kirby

Subject:      forlorn rags of getting old -- or, we're all bozos on this bus

MIME-Version: 1.0

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Race:

 

I think that all responses should be submitted in the form of a

question.  From there we could submit them to the President and see if

he can give us an answered.  Once I asked him where I could get a job,

down here on Dutch Elm Street, and he said that he had discussed this

with the leaders of business and that in the Future, they will not have

to answer questions like that anymore.  Then this clown, Clem, he came

along and asked the President something like, "Why does a JUJU bird lay

its eggs in the air", and it broke the President.  But the Future farie

is still there, so the President must be working again.  Any ways, could

you state that as a question please.

 

(With my humble apologies to Firesign Theater)I am,

 

Very truly there,

 

--

Bentz

bocelts@scsn.net

 

http://www.scsn.net/users/sclaw

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:38:31 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of getting old -- or, we're all bozos on this bus

Comments: To: "R. Bentz Kirby" <bocelts@SCSN.NET>

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

 

R. Bentz Kirby wrote:

>

> Race:

>

> I think that all responses should be submitted in the form of a

> question.  From there we could submit them to the President and see if

> he can give us an answered.  Once I asked him where I could get a job,

> down here on Dutch Elm Street, and he said that he had discussed this

> with the leaders of business and that in the Future, they will not have

> to answer questions like that anymore.  Then this clown, Clem, he came

> along and asked the President something like, "Why does a JUJU bird lay

> its eggs in the air", and it broke the President.  But the Future farie

> is still there, so the President must be working again.  Any ways, could

> you state that as a question please.

>

> (With my humble apologies to Firesign Theater)I am,

>

> Very truly there,

>

> --

> Bentz

> bocelts@scsn.net

>

> http://www.scsn.net/users/sclaw

 

I assume that you mean the honourable President Dwight David

Eisenhower.  went to that man's funeral.  it was a fake.  he's still

alive running around these parts ... on a dark and stormy night you can

see Ike walking his beagle down the Santa Fe Trail and Festus is too

drunk to notice that the Beagle is carrying a typewriter and looks just

a bit like a canine version of burroughs.

 

david rhaesa

salina, Kansas

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:41:43 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

MIME-Version: 1.0

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Diane Carter wrote:

>=20

> >Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

> >

> > there has got to be some kind of objective definition for the word LI=

E.

> > Imagine a beach full of men, swirling and being swirled in pools of w=

ater

> > where some drown and others are eaten alive, others devoured from ins=

ide,

> > others retarded or proud, aiming for the sea with their ugly bug eyes

> > extended mean toward the whole ocean, or something small within a gra=

in of

> > salt inside it. The system is closed. That is all there is and all th=

ere

> > ever shall be until another day or another group of words, or some fo=

reign

> > color comes along and sweeps the shore clean of all living creatures =

for a

> > time, or perhaps once and for all. That is man's place in the world, =

which

> > is no more or less important than it ever seemed to anyone with blind=

ers on

> > to a painful picture, a tragic scene. Imagine the calm of the ocean o=

n that

> > day when the last wave crashes and the ocean lies calm, the shore bar=

ren

> > and dry. Imagine the impossible serenity of being alive on that day.

> > Nothing lasts forever, and to chiming of this truth-bell comes clamor=

ing

> > life, a history of what has held together, man, gods and all only a p=

art, a

> > day at the ocean, almost certainly not the last day the ocean will se=

e or

> > the last ocean time will contain. There man sits, a lonely little bla=

ck

> > mudskipper, with those curious eyes on the side of its head imbedded =

in

> > hide, at once endearing and infinitely disgusting, moulding itself to=

 the

> > things of its sand, its one world, both a hell and a heaven, a microc=

osmic

> > embodiment of all existence which lies around it far or distant, in t=

he

> > scene of the colors, the scene of all the strivings and failures of m=

en,

> > and all of the strivings and failures that will be.

> >

> > -leo jilk

>=20

> Are you saying that LIE and IT are the same thing?

> DC

 

LIE + IT =3D LIGHT

 

if LIE =3D IT

then=20

LIE + LIE =3D LIGHT

 

white lie  yes it computes.

 

david rhaesa

salina, Kansas

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:54:48 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1

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Sinverg=FCenza wrote:

>  i can't guarantee that anything in my post had too much to do with

> the word lie.=20

> -leo

 

hmmm. the Committee will take this into consideration in evaluating

 

the Committee

 

david rhaesa

salina, Kansas

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 00:31:37 +0000

Reply-To:     "neudorf@discovland.net" <neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         "neudorf@discovland.net" <neudorf@DISCOVLAND.NET>

Subject:      Various Notes,

              Rhymes & More [actually the title from one of my poems]

MIME-Version: 1.0

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In response to David Rhaesa's:

 

> . . . typing under the influence is the same garbage as the whole

> establishment drug mythology.  we're all under the influence.  pick your

> poison - OJ or Marlboro Reds.

 

> I now will

> pack up my soap box

> feed my dog

> and my pony

> and head on down

> the road

> and up the third holler

> to my great grandpa's grave on a misty

> morning as the sun rises

> over the mill of the

> true

> MUSE

> and i'll shut my trap so y'all

> can figure out what reality is at let me in on the secret.

 

It's too bad you believe that "we're all under the influence" even when

the individual is sober from the commonly accepted substances. Religion

can be argued to be a substance, there's really no right / wrong answer.

In my view, drugs in no way create, it is still the artist creating,

albeit in an altered state - they can be seen as a short cut =

spiritually, artistically, etc (if you believe in that logic).

 

With respects to your poem:

 

        > i now will

        > pack up my soap box'

 

I have read 'soap box' quite often on this list. We must get rid of this

notion.

 

        > to my great grandpa's grave on a misty

        > morning as the sun rises'

 

Nice image. "on a misty / morning" - why does this have to be broken up

in two lines, it is the word combination that creates the image. Maybe:

 

        to my great grandpa's grave

        on a misty morning

        as the sun rises

 

= 3 images, 3 lines

 

I guess the form of the poem you wrote is free verse. Anybody read

Charles Olson's "Projective Verse" essay?

With respects to Gregory Corso, here's a poem I wrote a while back:

 

 

                Everyday Tuesday

 

 

                Returning home early from date unlucky.

                David greets me with second-hand Corso book o  poetry

                despite first-hand tales of being asshole.

                Real night to begin in basement

                with William Carlos Williams

                and fresh translation Tao Te Ching.

                Sudden phone call

                from Latino pal in jail

                for touching wrong woman

                in wrong place

                at wrong time

                who to believe

                pleading innocent.

                Court case tuesday next.

 

[Just in case, 'David' is my twin brother]

Joseph Neudorfer

=========================================================================

Date:         Sun, 22 Jun 1997 23:40:51 +0000

Reply-To:     wirtz@ridgecrest.ca.us

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Mike & Barbara Wirtz <wirtz@RIDGECREST.CA.US>

Subject:      Re: lurker speaks

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

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Diane Carter wrote:

>

> Mike & Barbara Wirtz wrote:

> >

> > I reread Howl this afternoon...and I think not so much that it is

> > misunderstood as suffering from a very specialized and narrow

> > audience.   I read it and thought.....period piece...I don't think it

> > will transcend time... Usually people can empathsize and relate to

> > another's emotional trauma...but it is very difficult to connect to

> > Ginsberg in Howl.  I do have an appreciation for the poem...he does

> > convey some stunning ideas and displays verbal dexterity and wit...... I

> > feel as if people who can relate, would really hoist this poem as the

> > icon of the the time and/ or experience...it would be ...the emblem poem

> > that it is..  But as a reader, I'm an outsider, gawking  and

> > rubber-necking a tragedy I can only witness from afar and listen to the

> > howling without ever wanting to howl myself.

> > Barb

>

> Barb,

>

> Howl, as well as the rest of the poetry of Ginsberg, will stand the test

> of time.  You and I obviously come from very different experiences.  When

> I first discovered Howl, it literally saved my life.  It was not until he

> died and I read the hundreds of memorials posted on various web pages

> that I saw in writing what I had known intellectually all along.  That he

> truly touched the souls of masses of people, many whom would not be alive

> today if his words had not given them the freedom and power to be

> themselves.  And beyond that, to write of themselves.  Not only do I

> identify with Howl, although I wasn't born until the fifies, I knew that

> it marked the beginning of a time when poetry would no longer be the same

> again.  It marked a time when no longer would the same limits be placed

> on thought or the poetry that came from that thought.  In his incredible

> body of work, of which Howl is just the cornerstone, Ginsberg gave us a

> new definition of how humanness, every little speck of humanness, could

> indeed be poetic.  He also spoke of America, an imperfect America, and

> how it is necessary for poets to address the culture which is at their

> feet.  But the big thing about Ginsberg is that he was remained positive

> in addressing the darkness of the mind and what he saw as the darkness of

> America.  While he pointed the the dusty, rotting imageless locomotives,

> he also pointed to the sunflower of the soul.

>

> I cannot understand how you cannot relate to the emotional trauma of

> Howl!  How can you possibly not want to howl yourself?   Life is a howl.

> I would urge you to start to howl.  Find it inside of yourself.

> The rhythm of Ginsberg's poetry is the rhythm of life in America today.

> When you say that "I think that Howl and many of his major works...are

> limited, and honestly will end up, not as the major voice of the 20th c.,

> but a voice of a period for a particular subsect of the population,"  I

> have to wonder how much of Ginsberg you have read.  He was a major voice

> in the twentieth century but he obviously did not take poetry in the

> direction you want it to go.

>

> You are reading beat literature but you don't really see it as enduring.

>  Only time will tell. I for one think it will. But for that to happen

> beat literature has to keep being published, being taught in schools and

> colleges all over this country equally, so that people continue to read

> it, and whole new generations of writers develop their own voices from

> the influences of the beats.

>

> I seriously want to know what path your line of thought takes in terms of

> twentieth century poetry.  You mentioned, "I am awed by Plath, Sexton,

> Rich, Bishop, Levertov, Walker...Women with strong voices, writing on

> issues that concern not only women, but humanity."  What did these women

> say that inspired you in a way that Ginsberg does not?  The confessional

> mode of writing is a uniquely twentieth century development but although

> Plath and Sexton got their concerns out in words, it did not, could not,

> save their own lives.  I don't think that their writing will stand the

> test of time.  Do you?

> DC

 

About the women standing the test of time...you or someone had asked

what was the most significant development/work of the 20th C....I think

that the voices as a whole is the most significant development...

Perhaps as individuals they may not endure...but they spoke up and wrote

from a perspective that had been long neglected.  I see it as the most

significant development...because I project that women will dominate

literature in the 21st C.... at least in America.

 

As for literature saving lives...I have never once thought it was the

purpose.  I have never read literature, or chosen literature, on that

basis.  My life has not needed saving...and I'm not sure a poet is the

one for the job if it were the case.  I'm actually not even concerned

about literature as therapy.  I am much more concerned with the

expression of ideas and how well  ideas conveyed through

devices/technique.  A good idea should be expressed in a way that is

beyond compare...perfectly suited... an astounding  synthesis of sound

and meaning .

 

As for howling....no thank you.  At times I do feel the need to applaud

and cheer... but howl, no.  If I don't like my life or situation, I do

something to change it.  And...we are from different worlds....I've

always been very lucky in many aspects. I've attended great schools,

always had diverse interests...extremely active in dance and

sports....and if I want to get high...I run in the desert or push

physical endurance somehow.  I do not glamourize drug use nor condone it

in any fashion.  I honestly think the beats were great

experimenters...and some truly were on quests, but their lives are

tragic as a whole.  (and where many thought they had attained

enlightenment...or epiphanies...they were just spewing the frazzled

synaptic mishaps of an overdose... It does NOT make for great art.  When

I read poetry where the poet is obviously wacked, I think "junk"

...not revolutionary, novel, genius driven art)  Ok *grin*...everyone

jump on me now.....

Barb

=========================================================================

Date:         Tue, 24 Jun 1997 06:17:07 +1100

Reply-To:     Duncan Gray <duncang@ENTO.CSIRO.AU>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Duncan Gray <duncang@ENTO.CSIRO.AU>

Subject:      the last time i committed suicide.

Mime-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

 

The character Keanu plays, called Harry is, as far as I can tell, not

totally based on one real person.  At the end of the movie Harry convinces

Neal to drink with him.  This is what Neal's step brother did in the "great

sex letter" (The one that starts off "To have seen a specter isn't

everything..)  At the beginning of the movie Harry is as you described,

Neal's pool buddy.

 

Duncan

 

<Date:    Fri, 6 Jun 1997 13:53:39 +0800

From:    Sharon Ngiam <mimosa@PACIFIC.NET.SG>

Subject: the last time i committed suicide.

 

hi, in the 'last time i committed suicide' (the one abt neal), who does

keanu reeves portray?

it says in my local mag that keanu plays the 'buddy he (neal) hangs out

with, drinking beer, shooting pool." who's that?

thanks a lot. btw, is it worth watching?>

 

s.*

------------------------------------------------------------------.o0

Duncan Gray

Stored Grain Research Laboratory

CSIRO Entomology, GPO Box 1700, Canberra ACT 2601

Ph. (06) 246 4178  Fax (06) 246 4202

----------------------------------------------------------------------

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:42:57 -0400

Reply-To:     Marie Countryman <country@SOVER.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Marie Countryman <country@SOVER.NET>

Subject:      Re: Drugs & Spontaneity

In-Reply-To:  <33AD8260.307C@discovland.net>

Mime-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

 

This is a good issue for discussion. Spontaneous writing . . . there is

definately a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the

discipline of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.

When the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing

else to do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his

language that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,

then stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.

________

this is exactly what i am finding out. as i can 'trip' w/o the chemicals,

due to having a somewhat cracked and multi-faceted mind and world view,

also as one who has tripped as well for the experience of opening the doors

of perception, i write down madly all that i thought all that has happened

all the memories,

first in prose

then in verse

again again again rehearse by pruning the garden and pulling the weeds out

of the  cracks in the eternal sidewalk, etc etc

also have found a wonderful editor on this list (who will remain nameless

to protect her from burial under poems, unless s/he decides to uncloak.)

mc

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:43:01 -0400

Reply-To:     Marie Countryman <country@SOVER.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Marie Countryman <country@SOVER.NET>

Subject:      Re: corso(was lies, againg, and all that existential angst)

In-Reply-To:  <33AE2012.1416@together.net>

Mime-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

 

someone somewhere in the endless scrolled message on this topic of

lies/aging etc

said that he wanted to know more about this 'corso guy' who is a poet who

at times dons the gonzo poet cap just as HST is gonzo journalism. i highly

recommend _elegiac feelings american_ to you, also, my favorite poem about

marriage

and, in meantime here is a more reflective corso piece:

HELLO

it is disastrous to be a wounded deer.

i'm the most wounded, wolves stalk,

and i have my failures, too.

my flesh is caught on the inevitable hook!

as i child i saw many things i did not want to be.

Am i the person i did not want to be?

that talks-to-himself person?

that - neighbours make-fun-of person?

am i he who, on museum steps, sleeps on his side?

do i wear the cloth of a man who has failed?

am i the looney man?

in the great serenade of things,

        am i the most cancelled passage?

_______

pome from elegaic feelings:

TWO WEATHER VANES

On the very top of St. Chapel there is a gold chicken

And next to it, on the point of a cone tower, there's a black

        boat-

Whenever the wind sails the boat toward the chicken

Clouds crash, and it rains, snows

And fogs, chimney pots, steeples, gargoyles sag like honey

-Hooray! In fact all Paris

                looks like a dropped plate of lumpy oatmeal

______

happy trails to you

mc

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:51:00 -0400

Reply-To:     Marie Countryman <country@SOVER.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Marie Countryman <country@SOVER.NET>

Subject:      Re: forlorn rags of growing old

In-Reply-To:  <l03020901afd3a13e7879@[198.5.212.63]>

Mime-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

 

(apologies in advance if this had already been posted to list, sometimes

this list feels like i'm playing jeopardy, to hit the send button (buzzer)

before the next member)

 

 I grow old...I grow old...

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled,

 

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

 

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the

        beach

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

 

I do not think they will sing to me.

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:23:23 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      Re: Drugs & Spontaneity

MIME-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

 

Marie Countryman wrote:

>

> This is a good issue for discussion. Spontaneous writing . . . there is

> definately a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the

> discipline of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.

> When the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing

> else to do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his

> language that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,

> then stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.

> ________

> this is exactly what i am finding out. as i can 'trip' w/o the chemicals,

> due to having a somewhat cracked and multi-faceted mind and world view,

> also as one who has tripped as well for the experience of opening the doors

> of perception, i write down madly all that i thought all that has happened

> all the memories,

> first in prose

> then in verse

> again again again rehearse by pruning the garden and pulling the weeds out

> of the  cracks in the eternal sidewalk, etc etc

> also have found a wonderful editor on this list (who will remain nameless

> to protect her from burial under poems, unless s/he decides to uncloak.)

> mc

 

it seems that the bursting muse does not pay much attention to linear

time.  if one spontaneously writes in one sitting about a

phenomenological event, it will appear as only a glance and not the full

spectacle of whatever it is.  another layer of spontaneity within and

around the original produces additional glances.  it is never possible

to present the spectacle to the reader but more layers connected to the

muse will certainly make the event appear far more present.  for me the

editing is primarily adding more flowers in the garden.  the pruning is

more like picking nose hairs.

 

david rhaesa

salina, Kansas

 

p.s. Salina Journal has a nice piece about Ginsberg tribute in LA this

morning nice big picture of Anne Waldman and some basic information.  i

imagine i'll write and add a few tidbits.  it might be nice for Salina

to know that more than just one tribute has happened since April.

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 08:36:02 -0400

Reply-To:     Marioka7@AOL.COM

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Maya Gorton <Marioka7@AOL.COM>

Subject:      Re: who was around in the 60's?

Comments: To: danneman@update.uu.se

 

In a message dated 97-06-21 06:46:57 EDT, you write:

 

<<

 Sara Feustle wrote:

 >

 > I myself am a whopping 21, and I am soooooo pissed off about all the stuff

 > I missed for being born so late!!!! Anybody else in the same predicament?

 

 I am 23 and yes I am pissed, thinking about all that I missed. I'm also

 annoyed being born so early. Imagine what I won't see in the future.

 Still I wouldn't like to see myself in the mirror at the age of 200. I'd

 be reeeally ugly. So all things considered, I'm happy.

 

 -daniel

 

  >>

I don't get it.  I sed i was 22 before, but i don't feel like i should have

been born earlier or later.  I feel JUST right.  I guess knowing that i was a

gangsta chick in 1940's Chicago in my previous life helps.  I didn't miss a

thing.  It's all happening NOW as far as i'm concerned.  Sara---just think,

in a few years, you'll be saggy and wrinkly so enjoy yerself now, while you

can still get some!

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 08:37:41 -0400

Reply-To:     Sara Feustle <sfeustl@UOFT02.UTOLEDO.EDU>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Sara Feustle <sfeustl@UOFT02.UTOLEDO.EDU>

Subject:      Re: Drugs & Spontaneity

Comments: To: RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

In-Reply-To:  <33AE6ABB.7429@midusa.net>

MIME-version: 1.0

Content-type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

 

At 07:23 AM 6/23/97 -0500, RACE --- wrote:

>Marie Countryman wrote:

>>

>> This is a good issue for discussion. Spontaneous writing . . . there is

>> definately a value, great writing erupts - yet it is with revision, the

>> discipline of the writing art form that the literature is perfected.

>> When the muse erupts in the body, spontaneously rising, there is nothing

>> else to do but document it. Perhaps if one is so perfected in his

>> language that the right word rises for every thought / emotion / etc.,

>> then stream of consciousness / spontaneous prose is an end to itself.

>> ________

>> this is exactly what i am finding out. as i can 'trip' w/o the chemicals,

>> due to having a somewhat cracked and multi-faceted mind and world view,

>> also as one who has tripped as well for the experience of opening the doors

>> of perception, i write down madly all that i thought all that has happened

>> all the memories,

>> first in prose

>> then in verse

>> again again again rehearse by pruning the garden and pulling the weeds out

>> of the  cracks in the eternal sidewalk, etc etc

>> also have found a wonderful editor on this list (who will remain nameless

>> to protect her from burial under poems, unless s/he decides to uncloak.)

>> mc

>

>it seems that the bursting muse does not pay much attention to linear

>time.  if one spontaneously writes in one sitting about a

>phenomenological event, it will appear as only a glance and not the full

>spectacle of whatever it is.  another layer of spontaneity within and

>around the original produces additional glances.  it is never possible

>to present the spectacle to the reader but more layers connected to the

>muse will certainly make the event appear far more present.  for me the

>editing is primarily adding more flowers in the garden.  the pruning is

>more like picking nose hairs.

>

>david rhaesa

>salina, Kansas

>

>p.s. Salina Journal has a nice piece about Ginsberg tribute in LA this

>morning nice big picture of Anne Waldman and some basic information.  i

>imagine i'll write and add a few tidbits.  it might be nice for Salina

>to know that more than just one tribute has happened since April.

 

 

Some of us can "trip" on our own body chemistry. Speaking from experience,

that sort of spontanaeity is better than that obtained from any drug. --Sara

>

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 08:39:01 -0400

Reply-To:     Marioka7@AOL.COM

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Maya Gorton <Marioka7@AOL.COM>

Subject:      Re: More Beat films...

Comments: To: stutz@dsl.org

 

check out Mystic Fire Video, at:

 

http://mosaic.echonyc.com/~mysticfire/index.html

 

they are a great source of Burroughs and other beat-related stuffs.

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 08:52:53 -0400

Reply-To:     Marie Countryman <country@SOVER.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         Marie Countryman <country@SOVER.NET>

Subject:      Re: corso(was lies, againg, and all that existential angst)

In-Reply-To:  <33AE6B65.47C2@midusa.net>

Mime-Version: 1.0

Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"

 

>Marie Countryman wrote:

>>

>> someone somewhere in the endless scrolled message on this topic of

>> lies/aging etc

>> said that he wanted to know more about this 'corso guy' who is a poet who

>> at times dons the gonzo poet cap just as HST is gonzo journalism. i highly

>> recommend _elegiac feelings american_ to you, also, my favorite poem about

>> marriage

>> and, in meantime here is a more reflective corso piece:

>> HELLO

>> it is disastrous to be a wounded deer.

>> i'm the most wounded, wolves stalk,

>> and i have my failures, too.

>> my flesh is caught on the inevitable hook!

>> as i child i saw many things i did not want to be.

>> Am i the person i did not want to be?

>> that talks-to-himself person?

>> that - neighbours make-fun-of person?

>> am i he who, on museum steps, sleeps on his side?

>> do i wear the cloth of a man who has failed?

>> am i the looney man?

>> in the great serenade of things,

>>         am i the most cancelled passage?

>> _______

>> pome from elegaic feelings:

>> TWO WEATHER VANES

>> On the very top of St. Chapel there is a gold chicken

>> And next to it, on the point of a cone tower, there's a black

>>         boat-

>> Whenever the wind sails the boat toward the chicken

>> Clouds crash, and it rains, snows

>> And fogs, chimney pots, steeples, gargoyles sag like honey

>> -Hooray! In fact all Paris

>>                 looks like a dropped plate of lumpy oatmeal

>> ______

>> happy trails to you

>

=========================================================================

Date:         Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:53:10 -0500

Reply-To:     RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Sender:       "BEAT-L: Beat Generation List" <BEAT-L@CUNYVM.CUNY.EDU>

From:         RACE --- <race@MIDUSA.NET>

Subject:      [Fwd: letter to editor - 'Howl' poet's life celebrated]

MIME-Version: 1.0

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i'll enjoy seeing what if anything gets off the cutting room floor.

 

a bit self-serving i just hope they don't print my damn address.

 

david rhaesa

 

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Message-ID: <33AE7000.6CC7@midusa.net>

Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 07:45:52 -0500

From: RACE --- <race@midusa.net>

X-Mailer: Mozilla 3.01Gold (Win95; I)

MIME-Version: 1.0

To: SJLetters@saljournal.com

Subject: letter to editor - 'Howl' poet's life celebrated

Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii

Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

 

i loved the photograph of Anne Waldman at the Los Angeles tribute.  i

understand she is still connected to teaching at the Jack Kerouac school

of Disembodied Poetics on Arapahoe in the Denver/Boulder area.  One can

see that she would be a naturally gifted teacher of the creative arts.

 

this Los Angeles tribute is by far not the first commemorative

celebration of Allen's influence on America.  last spring a boy wanted

to read 'Howl' in his high school as a commemoration.  the authorities

offered that he would be suspended.  he said suspend me.  and according

to rumor a ton of letters from Howlers across America hit the mail boxes

of the local authorities.  the young man was allowed to read the poem.

 

shortly after Ginsberg's death a memorial was held at St. Marks in New

York City.  the images i've read about that service are powerful.  the

strongest is of Patti Smith singing the old Hank Williams' mourning

song, "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry."

 

Numerous web pages have memorialized Ginsberg.  The one i'm most

familiar with is Levi Asher's "Literary Kicks" which is also a great

source for additional information about Ginsberg.  He catalogued the

mourning which took place on the BeatGeneration Listserv after the news

of Allen's passing.  One writer named Charley Plymell that you will find

in Levi's memorial, from the Wichita area and now in Cherry Valley New

York, lived here in salina for a time in 1949, drove a Cadillac and

remembers the Fox Theatre.  This local boy's name can be found there as

well.  Anyone interested the slightest in learning about Beat Generation

literature, culture or biographical sketches should begin at Literary

Kicks with Levi's work.  He also seems to be a very nice guy in the

letters i've received from him.

 

Another tribute was held in Venice California on May 10th.  One of the

readings was an experimental cyberspace explosion of Ginsberg's "On

Burroughs Work".  The collaboration was printed by Rose of Sharon Press

of Los Angeles.  I believe the copies were all given away free that

night at Beyond Baroque in L.A.

 

Also Ginsberg tributes are coming out of the woodwork in small poetry

magazines around the country and in Canada.  One magazine named Second

Beat out of Mississippi or Alabama somewhere is apparently printing my

Ginsberg tribute titled "Salina, Kansas" in there next edition.

 

Ginsberg will be remembered for many many things and probably despised

for many as well.  what is clear to me from my interactions with

individuals who knew the man is that he might best be remembered as a

teacher of the poetry of life.

 

david rhaesa

salina, Kansas

 

[telephone 823-7969]

[ edit however you feel appropriate ]

 

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