Archive for the ‘Nothing Much’ Category

Entry 210 — More Random Comments

Friday, September 3rd, 2010

Many people, usually grinds, extol the virtues of plain hard work–the 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration school.  What’s stupid about this is the idea that the inspiration is due to genes, the perspiration due to strength of character.  What is stupid about it is that the strength of character required to do hard work is due to genes.  I bring this up because I commented on some Internet article pushing the idea that we all have the potential to be geniuses, saying something like, “the silliest belief about success in a field is that the will to rise to the top is not genetically-based.”  I repeat it here because it seems so obvious to me, but apparently to very few others. Where do they think the aptitude for hard work comes from?

* * * * *

While looking up Helen Vendler on the Internet to find out how long she was poetry critic at The New Yorker for insertion into an essay partly on her by Richard Kostelanetz, I happened on an Amazon page concerned with her anthology Poems, Poets, Poetry.  The moronically complimentary reviews that had been made of it spurred me to the following (without every having seen the anthology):

As ever, venerable Establishment icon Vendler pays standard attention to varieties of poetry standard by the fifties or earlier, but seems unaware that anything else (visual, infraverbal and mathematical poetry, for instance) exists. She’s competent at what she limitedly does, however, so her book would probably be worth getting for apprentice readers and writers of poetry–until commercial or academic publishers of books like hers accidently publish one by someone knowledgeable about the best poetry composed since 1950.    –Bob Grumman

Gotta let off steam once in a while.

* * * * *

I can’t understand how in the world people who believe consciousness is something that evolved think it came about.  I consider the universe to consist of matter and consciousness and to be eternal.  Otherwise, I have to believe in something from nothing, and I can’t.

* * * * *

I can’t understand, either, why some believe that the law of cause and effect doesn’t hold in some situations, it makes free will possible.  It may make predetermination impossible, but it so far as will is concerned, why is a chance-determined effect different from a natural-law-determined effect?  Similarly, I’ve always wondered why many people think environmental-determinism somehow gives us “freedom” that genetic-determinism can’t.

I think fate, whatever it is, determines every time-unit of our lives, however small, and there’s nothing we can do about it, whether fate throws dice or follows a rule-book.  And all one’s consciousness can do is observe what happens to the body containing it.  Or in some other way in touch with it.

* * * * *

Despite how sleepy I am, I can still repeat old thoughts like these.

Entry 203 — Random Thoughts

Friday, August 27th, 2010

Random thoughts today because I want to get this entry out of the way and work on my dissertation on the evolution of intelligence, or try to do so, since I’m still not out of my null zone, unless I’m slightly out but having trouble keeping from falling back into it.

First, two new Grummanisms: “utilinguist” and “alphasemanticry.”  The first is my antonym for a previous coinage of mine, “nullinguist,” for linguist out to make language useless; ergo, a utilinguist is a linguist out to make language useful.  By trying to prevent “poetry” from meaning no more than “anything somebody thinks suggests language concerns” instead meaning, to begin with,  “something constructed of words,” before getting much more detailed, for example.

“Alphasemanticry” is my word for what”poetry” should mean if the nullinguists win: “highest use of language.”  From whence, “Visual Alphasemanticry” for a combination of graphics and words yielding significant aesthetic pleasure that is simultaneously verbal and visual.”

I popped off today against one of Frost’s “dark” poems, or maybe it is a passage from one of them:  “. . . A man can’t speak of his own child that’s dead”–the kind academics bring up to show Frost was Important, after all.   “Wow,” I said, “Wow, he confronts death!  He must be major! “  I then added, “Frost is in my top ten all-time best poets in English that I’ve read but not for his Learic Poems.”

James Finnegan then corrected me, stating (I believe) that the poem didn’t confront death but showed its effects.   I replied, “Okay, a poem about the effect of death on two people.   What I would call a wisdom poem.  I’m biased against them.  I like poems that enlarge my world, not ones that repeat sentiment about what’s wrong with it, or difficult about it.   Frost knew a lot about reg’lar folks, but I never learned anything from him about them that I didn’t already know.  In other words, I’m also somewhat biased against people-centered poems.  But mostly, I don’t go to poems to learn, I go to them for pleasure.”

I would add that I’m an elitist, believing with Aristotle that the hero of a tragedy needs to be of great consequence, although I disagree with him that political leaders are that, and I would add that narrative literature of any kind requires either a hero or an anti-hero (like Falstaff) of great consequence.

I’m not big on poems of consolation, either.

Entry 198 — The Kelly Writers House

Sunday, August 22nd, 2010

Earlier today Al Fireis passed on the following announcement to New-Poetry:

“The people of the Kelly Writers House are pleased to announce – in addition to many hundreds of other readings, symposia, performances, seminars, workshops, netcasts & community outreach programs – this year’s three Writers House Fellows:

Susan Cheever, February 14-15
Edward Albee, March 21-22
Marjorie Perloff, April 25-26″
Enough of my buttons were pushed for me to reply:

“Does the house ever do artist outreach programs–by giving an artist with something fresh to say in a highly visible forum, for pay?  That said, I have to say that Albee has proven himself not an enemy of the arts by supporting (with money, I believe) the Atlantic Arts Center in Florida.  It mainly helps artists who don’t need help, but pays them to help artists (like me) who do need help, as sort of associates working together under the leadership of the artist who doesn’t need help.  If that’s the way it is still run.  I learned Photo Shop there, a program I couldn’t afford though I eventual was able to get a cheap version of it, Paint Shop.  It was a key to my development as a visual poet.

“Of course, my getting into one of the Atlantic Arts Center programs was a fluke.  Albee himself had used his influence to get Richard Kostelanetz a slot as a master artist, and Richard picked truly marginal associates.  All other master artists selected, so far as I know, have been mainstreamers, with  mainstream associates.

“Perloff, to give her credit, helped language poetry when it was otherstream.  She may well have done this opportunistically: Vendler had used Ashbery to stand out, so she grabbed Bernstein, or the language poetry people in general.  Which is fine with me.  I’d love such an opportunits to do the same for visual poetry, and will never understand why none has.  A few have tried but not gotten far with it.  Probably because few visual poets are academics, and thus close in one way to the mainstream.  More language poets had academic clout long before they had literary clout.

“As for Cheever, I can’t imagine what she has to say.  Reminiscences about her father, a one-time noted mainstreamer.

“Sorry for the Me-stuff, but the name Albee set it off.  Strangely important name in my life even though I’m not a great admirer of his plays, and probably have little in common with him in other ways, and once disliked him. I saw what may have been the premiere of his Zoo Story, along with Krapp’s Last Tape; disliked Zoo Story, very much liked Krapp’s Last Tape.  Greenwich Village Theatre when I was a teen-ager just learning my way into the arts, with high school buddies I’m still friends with, one of whom because a actor who got by but never became well-known, another who became a very wealthy Manhattan corporate lawyer, and a third who became a wealthy Bevery Hills cataract man.

“Sorry, again, but I’m feeling talkative–”writative?”  Took a pain pill with an opium derivative in it an hour ago.  Hip pain I’ll probably need hip replacement surgery to get rid of.  Also, I live alone.

“You know, I’m against the government’s subsidizing anything whatever, but if they’re going to subsidize the arts, I think they should make it a rule that any organization getting government money, even in the form of tax breaks, should be required by law to give at least one position a year like the ones Kelly House is giving to Albee and the others to someone who has never been given such a position by such an organization.  Or never gotten more for taking such a position than, say, a hundred dollars.

“One of my daydreams is of becoming a literary super-star invited all over to make guest appearances, and refusing to for a given organization until that organization has invited four or more marginal artists (or critics) to make similar appearances, paying them what it’d pay a super-star.  It would be going too far to make them do that before inviting any well-known artist or critic; I wouldn’t require more than their doing it for just one unknown if it weren’t the practice never to help an unknown (who doesn’t have somebody of influence pushing for him to be invited, or is representative of some allegedly underprivileged group, aside from experimental artists.

“Hey, looks like I’ve written my blog entry for today.  I’ve been so out of it for many months that I’ve been trying to force myself to at least write a blog entry every day.  Have done so for over a week. “

Entry 195 — A little Whining

Thursday, August 19th, 2010

I’m not unhappy, just very tired.  I’m really pushing myself to keep getting at least one blog entry done a day–for fear that if I stop, I’ll stop getting anything done.

I couldn’t think of anything to put down here until a little while ago, when I remembered the many times I’ve told myself that all I wanted out of life now was one full happy year.  Something I’ve never had.  I’ve had mostly years with a little happiness, and little unhappiness, but never one period of twelve months with only a few minor unhappinesses and a reasonable number of minor happinesses.  Actually, I want more than that: I want a twelve-month period like that which also includes at least one major happiness.  I’ve never had a major happiness.

I’ve had major unhappinesses, though.   I’ve whined enough for now, though, so I won’t go into them.

Entry 184 — More Nothingnesses

Monday, August 9th, 2010

Poverty = |  |; wealth = |                                 |.

I don’t consider this a poem, I think of it as an aphorism and thus, informrature.

Entry 163 — Back into the Null Zone

Monday, July 19th, 2010

I’m feeling okay–and, amazingly, seem suddenly, after  nine or ten months, to getting over my leg pain and limp.  I have no idea what’s happening, but I was even able to run an eighth of a mile without pain earlier today after not having been to do that for even ten feet over those past months.  I stopped not because my leg began hurting but because I was so out of shape for running after not doing it for so long that I was out of breath!  I’ll give my leg a real test tomorrow when I play tennis.

As for the null zone, I again have no idea what’s going on, but I seem completely unable to do much of anything.  I can’t even get myself to color the mathemaku I posted yesterday, or see up a pale yellow background to put it on.   I have all kinds of other chores and projects to work on but am barely able to continue reading the escape novel I’m currently involved with, about espionage in Argentina during World War II.

I’ve been taking a lot of naps although I’ve been getting the five or six hours of sleep a night I generally get when I consider myself to be sleeping well (although for years I wished I could get at least eight hours a night).  Maybe my body is mending, and the process is leaving me little energy for mental endeavors.  I hope that’s it.

Entry 151 — The Latest on my Career Progress

Sunday, June 20th, 2010

Just a note about my long journey toward cultural visibility: toward the end of 2009, Maria Damon, a friend of mine in vispo and related art, sent me an essay on my mathemaku by an undergraduate student in a class she was teaching on (I believe) “micropoetry.”  I don’t know whether I’m pleased or alarmed at how well a mere college student analyzed my work.  Of course, I did like fact that the essay was an appreciation, and that it got attention in a college class.  I figure that once college students, and blogger, start writing about my work, one of my main fast-lane ambitions will eventually come to pass: a whole book about my work (by someone other than myself).  The essayist, by the way, is Joey Engelhart.

I had meant to post his essay long ago, but something kept me from getting permission from him, then I got diverted into other projects.  I came across the e.mail Maria sent it to me in yesterday while searching my e.mail for something else, remembered that I wanted to post it and got in touch with Maria about it.  I now have Joey’s permission ot post it, and have done so: in the new “Discussions of Bob Grumman’s Poetry” slot among the “Pages” to the right of this entry.

A little later in the day, I got an e.mail from Conrad DiDiodato, the word-dreamer: poetics blogger, letting me know about an entry he’d made in this blog a month of so ago about my mathematical poetry.  It’s very positive.  Insightful, too, I think.  I’ll be asking him for permission to put it into my collection of “Discussion of Bob Grumman’s Poetry.”  Next, something by William Logan, I’m sure.  (Unironically speaking now, he is the critic I think I would most want to examine my work–because (1) he might find flaws in it I can correct, and (2) he would definitely provide idiocies for more intelligent critics to work off of, and for me to laugh at.

Entry 147 — Post Awaiting Content

Wednesday, June 16th, 2010

Amazing how little I’m posting to this blog of mine of late.  It’s been a full week since my last post; I thought only a couple of days had gone by.

Entry 145 — Poetry as a Profession

Friday, June 11th, 2010

Is there any profession that pays as little as poetry?

Is there any profession that scorns its most adventurous practitioners as much as poetry?

Entry 137 — Whee

Saturday, May 29th, 2010

For the first time in ever so long, it’s nine o’clock and I don’t want to retire for the day!  That’s Very Nice.  What’s not nice is that it took an overdose of pain medication to make me feel that way.  Oh, well, that I’m able to feel this way is a plus, whatever it takes to make me feel this way.

Ergo: whee!