Entry 332 — Not Quite a Zero-Interest Entry « POETICKS

Entry 332 — Not Quite a Zero-Interest Entry

I didn’t start the new year with an explosion of productivity but did work out and complete a new mathemaku, which I like right now.  It’s for Bill DiMichele’s Tip of the Knife Blog.  I hope to make one to three more mathemaku for Bill but have only one idea for one in mind, and it’s very vague.  The one just done came about as many of mine do: I sketched a few ideas, then decided on a final version . . . but couldn’t energize myself into going to Paint Shop to execute it.  Today, I felt I had to finish it, but dawdled again.  At which point my eyes strayed across a copy of my This Is Visual Poetry, and I instantly saw the cover image as perfect for my mathemaku.  It’s now the remainder of the latter.  It may be my first long division remainder that is the focal point of the poem it’s in.  The rest of the poem is words and the long division apparati.

So, another example of my unconscious preventing me for finishing a piece my conscious mind thinks adequate until a flaw is corrected.  This can only happen, I believe, for very slow workers.

I won’t show the poem here since it’s for Bill’s blog, but will provide a link to it when he posts it, which should be in a week or two.

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Entry 21 — Blogging Frustration « POETICKS

Entry 21 — Blogging Frustration

I’ve just spent three hours working on the Page entitled, “Comprepoetica Biographies — A.”   Take a look at it.  All I was able to accomplish was posting one entry in reasonable condition, and a second halfway there.  Something must be wrong with my computer, because the process has been incredibly slow.  Sometimes–frequently, in fact–the damned computer stops for five minutes or so to carry out a save I don’t want.  Or takes fifteen seconds to let me insert a comma.  In any case, this is all I’m posting here, and I probably won’t be doing much more on the biographies.  I did get them backed up to my hard drive, and on a CD.

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Entry 1453 — A House « POETICKS

Entry 1453 — A House

Here’s another image at the Bing image site I wrote about yesterday. It’s one of the “Bob Grumman” images because of its address, 17 Grumman Avenue, Norwalk, Connecticut. Nothing to do with me except that the house is in the town I was born in, and the street named after forebears of mine.  A pretty picture, though. Oh, the house was on sale for half a million.  I still can’t get used to how much less a dollar now means than it did when I was a boy.

GrummanAvenue

My excuse for yet another throw-away entry is that I was on my bike running errands against a horrideous wind this morning, including having blood taken at one place, and my teeth cleaned at another. Running errand always wears me out, but these especially did. Did I ever mention that I’m getting really old!?
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Comic Strips/ Comic Books « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Comic Strips/ Comic Books’ Category

Entry 1635 — Comic Strip Survey

Tuesday, November 18th, 2014

I was so busy with Shakespeare authorship matters today that I didn’t have time for a real blog entry.  Instead, this< which is something I just emailed to the local paper I read:

ForTheSun18Nov14

I’m posting it on the off-chance posterity will be interested in my choices and this commentary.  First of all, I made Dilbert my favorite because it far and away is, of the choices, and probably of all the strips I know about, even Mary Worth (Sarcasm since, those of you not familiar with this strip, it not only is pure soap opera, but soap opera without dramatic interest and with less narrative change per frame than you’d believe possible; actually, that makes it worth keeping–it’s sometimes hilariously bad).  I listed Mutts in my favorites although it is often vilely sentimental and not often very funny because once in a while is it very funny, and once in a while it seems an excellent haiku to me.  I like its flavor of the old Thimble Theatre, hangout of Popeye. I also fear it may get kicked out of the funnies, and most of the others, although usually better than it, are very similar.  Sally Forth I put down for fear it might need my vote, too.  It’s rarely really funny but, for me, almost always gently amusing.  Again, it’s one of the few strips on the paper that has much individuality.

Zits and Baby Blues would have been numbers 2 and 3 if I thought they needed my vote.  Both seem funny to me more often than not, and I like how often they suggest how different males and females are from each other.

I have little to say about the three on my list of ones I could live without: For Better or Worse is okay but we’re getting reruns, and once  was enough.  A new strip to me that has only been in the paper a couple of weeks is Wumo.  It has so far always seemed almost-funny but misfiring.  Imitation Gary Larsen but never as right on as he almost always was.

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Entry 473 — Some More Idle Thoughts « POETICKS

Entry 473 — Some More Idle Thoughts

Two days ago I mailed four visiomathematical poems off to Rattle, the literary magazine I mentioned a while back, I think, that’s running a poetry contest.  My cost to enter: $18.  But I get a year’s subscription out of it.  As though I don’t already have enough to read.  But I have serious hopes of winning one of the fifteen also ran prizes of $100.  My rationale: that the editors choosing them will decide to include one of mine to advertise their openness to all poetic forms.  They do publish what they term visual poetry, by the way.  I didn’t bother investigating their magazine in advance: I was set to enter their contest regardless, so there would have been no point to it.  I hoped it’d get me to come up with some new poems, finally–as it did.  I haven’t added to my negative credits for a while, either.  But, yes, my incurable optimism was a factor, too: I will probably never stop believing that there will come a day when someone other than a relative or close friend will be taken by something I’ve done.

I like my four entries–they seem to me about as good as I can do.

* * * * *

That which has never physically revealed itself in some direct way to any human sense either does not exist or exists too limitedly to be meaningful.

Note: the preceding statement is not as dopey as it may immediately seem to some.  I could spend hundreds of paragraphs expanding on it and defending it.  Ditto the following set of questions.  They concern a given:  (1) a penny-storing machine that pennies can be inserted into through a slot and that a penny a day is ejected from and that contains a penny-counter that causes the machine to say, “I’m hungry,” whenever there are less than 100 pennies in it; (2) a human being that says, “I’m hungry,” when a normal human being’s digestive system would tell it to.  Question #1: has the machine a consciousness that tells it to say what it says and is aware that it does so?  Question # 2: has the human being a consciousness that tells it to say what it does and is aware that it does so?  Question #3: if the machine has no such thing, but the human being does, can it be physically described?  Question #4: if not, how do you know it exists?  Question #5: if so, what is it about what you physically describe that gives it any awareness of what the human being says–or, how do you know it has that awareness.

The real mystery to me is how an awareness of anything can come into existence.  How can it simply be something thing pings into existence once some “complexity” of molecular inter-connections evolve?  Why isn’t that something from nothing?  If that something from nothing is possible, what prevents other something-from-nothing from being possible?  (Same problem, of course, with the Big Bang Theory, at least as it’s often stated.)

* * * * *

Another mystery: how it is that after struggling to write more than a sentence or two of my latest book review, this afternoon, I suddenly wrote all 1100 words of it.  And they probably will need minimal polishing.  This happens a lot to me, and to many others.  It still amazes me.  I’m certainly happy about it.  I do have another column for Small Press Review to write, but that should be easy.  Except for the other mystery in my life, and the lives of most people like me–that no matter how simple a creative or semi-creative task (as all writing tasks are) is, people like me can take inordinate amounts of time to take care of it.

 

 

 

 

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Posts Tagged ‘Me’

Entry 21 — Blogging Frustration

Sunday, November 22nd, 2009

I’ve just spent three hours working on the Page entitled, “Comprepoetica Biographies — A.”   Take a look at it.  All I was able to accomplish was posting one entry in reasonable condition, and a second halfway there.  Something must be wrong with my computer, because the process has been incredibly slow.  Sometimes–frequently, in fact–the damned computer stops for five minutes or so to carry out a save I don’t want.  Or takes fifteen seconds to let me insert a comma.  In any case, this is all I’m posting here, and I probably won’t be doing much more on the biographies.  I did get them backed up to my hard drive, and on a CD.

Entry 13 — The Null Zone

Saturday, November 14th, 2009

The null zone–I’m in it again.  Not sure why, for my health is improving, and nothing else in my life is going particular wrong.  But I just can’t think of anything to write about here.  And I had two lines of a poem started last night in bed I can only remember the gist of the second line of.  Usually if I can remember that much, the rest comes back to me.  I also remember thinking of a topic to discuss two nights ago, but remembering only that it lead back to my ordaining that there are two kinds of aesthetic pleasure, narrative or sagaceptual aesthetic pleasure and sensual or protoceptual pleasure.

Oh, well, I did get something done that may prove of some consequence: I e.mailed Ivars Peterson about my mathematical poetry.  He’s a well-known science writer who seems interested in subjects like it.  He wrote one article about the mathematical visual art of John sims.  I’d been meaning to expose him to my work for two or more months, but dawdled.

There, that’s it for this entry.

Entry 11 — Old Man Medical News

Thursday, November 12th, 2009

This will be my first utterly blah entry–except maybe for my first, but that was not intended to do more than introduce this blog.  Anyway, just to say something, I will update you on the latest of my pharmaceutical adventures: I just ook a hydrocodone bt-ibuprofen tablet.  There’s codeine in it, so it should be pretty potent.  He prescribed it to lower the aching pain I feel in my right leg at night in bed from, we believe, sciatica.  Nothing else yet has, and it’s significantly interfered with my sleep.  I mention it mainly to stay on record as a druggie–because I don’t see why I should not be arrested for using it when those using heroin or steroids not prescribed by a doctor are not.  I’m also interested in its effect on my creativity.  I’ve always thought that the darvocept I’ve taken on and off helped it, although not so much recently.

Entry 481 — A Few New Thoughts « POETICKS

Entry 481 — A Few New Thoughts

A little while ago, Stephen Russell posted the following at New-Poetry:

Bob, they let me out of rehab to do a math poem: It’s very simple (after Basho). A Ven diagram. The frog: (small circle) enclosed within a (  larger circle ): the pond. & a tear between the intersecting circles, the s p l a s h. Text for all 3 words: frog/pond/splash. & perhaps a larger circle enclosing the 2 smaller circles: Universe. A math poem that approximates Basho’s vision … But I’m having problems getting it done in word instead of paintshop (much user friendly).

“Sounds fun,” I said back. ” I don’t do nothin’ graphic in word, but jpeg converts once done in paintshop.  I think where to go with Venn poetry would be surrealistic overlaps.  Having said that, I can’t think of an example, even a bad one. “

Because, in another post, Stephen had mentioned someone’s bewailing the death of the novel,  I wrote, “As for the death of the novel, I can’t see it.  Nor of poetry.  There’s the crucial importance of abstraction–experiencing reality sensually and abstractly.  Crucial for art and science. “

This led to a few further words about a third post of Stephen’s about getting people to appreciate poetry: “I don’t see any way of making serious poetry popular.  As I’ve always said, it’s like classical music or superior jazz or ballet or mathematics.  The only problem is getting people able to appreciate it to try it!  Which means, among other things, every once in a while giving a lot of money to a person making it (because the media only pays attention to things people get a lot of money for).  Maybe I’ve said things like this before?

“Meanwhile, I just had a one-man show at my local library, and drew four or five people to it, two of whom actually discussed any of the items in it.  Poeticks.com has photographs of it.  It wasn’t really a one-man show, but 17 or my 18 framed works hung in an event with many other tables for authors (and non-authors) celebrating the library’s 50th anniversary.  It made me think about why nobody was drawn to it.  Two thoughts on that: (1) I did nothing to promote it, like running around in a costume with visual poems on it–after getting the library to hang a few of my accessible poems up in advance (and I do have a few) and (2) creating a “lesson in visual poetry” like the one I’ve started work on which will consist of seven or eight posters, each showing some detail of the poem they are about, with commentary I attempt to make entertaining with personal comments, little jokes but also solid poetics; the whole idea would be to take someone encountering the work through the poem step by step.

“I hope to have it soon at my blog.  First I have to separate the purely graphic matter from the textual matter overlaid on it, which will take a while.”

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Entry 626 — Fear of Failure « POETICKS

Entry 626 — Fear of Failure

I’ve always had a horrible fear of failure.  I was thinking about that just now as I tried to steel myself to go to war with the Russians.  I’m Greece in a round of Civilization, the world-domination game I spend such an absurd amount of time playing against my computer.  My spies, who are almost always right, tell me the Russians are very weak, and there are other strong indications that I will win a war against them.  Since I’m slightly ahead of the other nations I’m competing with, that should be enough for me to win the game as a whole.  And, good grief, no one will know but I if I fail!  Yet I feel the same way I feel in a tennis match I’m playing in the local seniors league, or when I’m about to submit a poem somewhere.  I’m reminded, too, of the way school tests made me feel, even ones I knew would be no problem for me.  Oddly, I don’t much feel it with these blog entries of mine.  I don’t know why that should be.  I’m submitting specimens of my thinking to strangers.  I guess the fact that my judges are invisible, mute, and few keeps me from thinking about them.  Another factor I just thought of is that no one is keeping score, there’s no definite way I can fail.  Well, unless a few of you made nasty comments about my entries all of a sudden.  But nobody has for ever so long.

Happy pills or alcohol would probably solve the problem.  Unfortunately, anything that would make awareness of failure impossible would also make awareness of success impossible, too.  My temperament is such that irrational hope of success will always trump equally irrational fear of failure, for me.  Even though my greatest feelings of success have been of anticipated success, almost never of actual success. 

Note: after I posted this, I felt a sense of triumph.  That made me realize a trick I learned so long ago that I use it automatically without thinking about it: giving oneself games to play that are almost impossible to lose, in this case, my game of getting a blog entry done every day.  That’s a great lesson for those of you looking for terrific self-help methods!

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Entry 384 — A Poetic Coinage « POETICKS

Entry 384 — A Poetic Coinage

Faereality.
.                                      f
.                                     ae
.                                      r
.                                     ea
.                                     lit
.                                     y

As Cummings might have had it.  I coined it for use in the mathemaku I made last night for the one-mathemaku-a-day-no-matter-how-bad project I start five days ago to force myself to think mathemakuically–in hopes that that would eventually perk me up.   It’s the dividend.  I haven’t gotten the quotient quite the way I want it.  At this stage, it’s “clouds softening/ out of a long-lost haiku/ toward a full-hued day.”  I need it positive because the poem’s divisor is a raging storm.  Which now makes me think a better quotient would be something like “17th-century haiku about a butterfly”–i.e., something not so obviously the opposite of a storm.  The poem needs work, but it’s the first I’ve thought good enough to tinker with.  The first four don’t come close to making sense nor do anything interesting. No matter as long as I end with 365 things that qualify as mathemaku 360 days from today.

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Entry 1455 — A Day Late « POETICKS

Entry 1455 — A Day Late

I did so much work on the revision of my article for the Journal of Mathematics and the Arts that I forgot all about posting this day’s entry.  The article is now a little over 4,000 words in length, and finished except for one final run-through that will primarily be a copy edit.

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