Entry 1456 — Small Rant Against Euphemophilia « POETICKS

Entry 1456 — Small Rant Against Euphemophilia

Bambi’s mother told him that if he couldn’t say something nice, he should say nothing, at all.  That was sixty or seventy years ago.  The thought is outdated now.  The American ruling class, and their publicity department (the American media), would say, “If you can’t think something nice, turn yourself in (to a reputable professional, of course) for counseling.  This is stupid in too many different ways for me to unfume enough to deal with it without revealing myself as every possible kind of black-hearted sub-human.  But I’ll point out one major way it is stupid, anyway: that once we can only tell others that they are wonderful (for fear of ostracism or legal punishment), there are bound to be people with unusually big hearts who will start telling others they are super-wonderful, and before you know it, the quickest-witted hyper-offendables will take action against those who have called them wonderful–i.e., inferior to the super-wonderful.

These kinds of thoughts I should just reserve for my private diary, but I gotta put something here daily!  I also feel obligated to other members of posterity here already to show them they aren’t alone.  Yes, weird that I would think of myself acting as a member of future generations by expressing views of of generations dead when I was born.

I should shut up but I have so little instinct for self-preservation, I can’t.  So I have to tell you I consider euphemophilia a synonym for what I just found out is “misandry,” hatred of men.  Interesting that you never hear of anyone accused of that. “Misandry” is crummy sounding so I’m going to use “mistestostergy” instead.  And now I really must yank myself outta here . . . except, alas, to make one more archaically self-deluded remark: I do not consider myself even close to being a misogynist.  But, remember, I don’t consider myself close to being homophobic, either, although I don’t think homosexuals should call their variety of marriage “marriage.”  And I refuse to call them “gays.”

really gotta yank myself outta here.  Will it help if I say I don’t respect our president’s intelligence, but don’t respect it less than I respect the previous president’s?

No one’s ever said I had a death-wish, but maybe I have.  (Some have suggested I seem to seek failure, which may be true although, frankly, I don’t believe it is.)  Okay–I go!

Note: I did go.  I’m back now only to say I just named “sexism” as on of the categories this entry belongs in.  I’m curious if that will draw visitors.  Why I would want it to would be a question for my shrink if I weren’t too benighted to believe in shrinks.

.

AmazingCounters.com

Leave a Reply

Sociology « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Sociology’ Category

Entry 999 — Meritocracy Versus Government?

Wednesday, January 30th, 2013

No, Credentiocracy Versus Meritocracy.  What am I talking about?  A column by David Brooks (he’s so blandly mediocre a writer, I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten a MacArthur–or has he?) in which he muses that, “One of the features of the Obama years is that we get to witness an enormous race, which you might call the race between meritocracy and government.  On the one side, there is the meritocracy, which widens inequality.  On the other side, there is President Barack Obama’s team of progressives, who are trying to mitigate inequality.  The big question: which side is winning?”

A minor comment to begin with: when people like Brooks talk about “inequality,” they mean “inequality of either taxable income or apparent monetary value of material possessions.”  Neither has much to do with true inequality, or even mere material inequality.  But that’s a subject I’ve already touched on elsewhere and will probably discuss at length in the future, but am not interested in right now.  What I’m interested in now is Brooks’s silly idea of what a meritocracy is.  In his article he claims, with reasonably good evidence, that in this country those with college degrees, especially advanced degrees, from the top 11 schools (like Harvard and Yale), make the most money and live in the nicest neighborhoods.  All that is true.  But he goes on to blithely assume that this makes the country a meritocracy–i.e., a country in which advancement is won by those whose contributions to  the betterment of humanity, or whatever, is most meritorious.  That most definitely is not the case.  These successful people he’s speaking of are the best credentialed people, not the most culturally valuable; our country is not a meritocracy (like it came closest to being in the nineteenth century) but a credentiocracy (kruh DEHN shee AH kruh see).  That is what the government wants, because the government consists of mediocrities protecting themselves and people like them from their betters.

Brooks goes on to the further silliness of opining that because all these credential-achieving conformists are moving to the cities that the cities are where cultural progress is being made.  He’s ignoring the Internet.  The cities are culturally dead because the Internet’s potential to give everyone equal access to information and equal power to disseminate his writings or the equivalent to everyone interested no matter where he lives.  True, that’s far from the case now, but I can’t see how it can fail to happen eventually.  Probably via virtual realities that allow two people hundreds of miles apart to physically interact as completely as they could if inches apart.

.

Entry 998 — An Eighth Human Activity

Tuesday, January 29th, 2013

Yesterday, I suddenly realized that the activity I most pursue isn’t on my list of human activities.  It’s subsusteniation.  It’s the activity of doing nothing worthwhile whatever. It does not include sleep, an important recreation, in my book, but also both susteniation and utilitry, nor is it rest, which it most resembles.  Rest is also recreation, susteniation and utilitry.  It is often accompanied by stray thinking of potential value.    My impression is that one can’t completely turn off one’s brain, but that the mental flow (I’m sure I have some name for it, but I forget what it is) going on when one is absorbed in subsusteniation is nearly pure blah, nowhere-going nothing emotions,  pseudo-cognitive nullity.  All of which I am a master of.

.

Entry 996 — Notes on Class Warfare

Sunday, January 27th, 2013

While thinking about the current class warfare going on in America–thanks mainly to the imbecilic democrats–I slopped into a few ideas I thought interesting enough to plant here in hopes I (and/or others) might develop into something better.  One idea has to do with the usefulness of my list of human activities, intelligently used, in considerations of class conflicts–which really aren’t between haves and have-nots but between different kinds of haves and have-nots.

Let me back up, first, to another idea of mine: that classes can be most usefully defined by what their main activity or group of activities is. Make that, by what they conceive to be the activities most important to them.  Certainly there are the dominantry-centered classes–the ins and outs.  Then there are the true haves and have-nots, the susteniation-centered classes.  Or were (theoretically, at any rate) long, long ago.   Maybe there still are such classes in isolation parts of the third world.  One group of people with enough money, of the equivalent thereof, to survive, in a life-or-death struggle with another group without the means to stay alive .

What we call the haves and have-nots are something entirely different–a class of two groups, one without the means for a genuine contentment, the other with it–or (more likely) perceived by the first group to have it.

A major question is just who are taking on the role of the have-nots, who are taking on, or being given, the role of the haves.  The first are those who would tell you, I believe, that they have unfairly too little money; the haves, for them, would be simply those with more money than they.  There are confusingly many things stupid about this way of looking at the matter.  The biggest is that almost no one in either group is, properly speaking, even close to being a genuine have-not, by which I mean unable to afford the absolute necessities of life.   That is important because the discussion if invariably severely contaminated by pro-have-not propaganda implying that one group is callously letting the members of another group die when (forgive my bias) all the first group is doing is requiring the members of the second group to earn the material things (unrelated to susteniation) that they are mostly complaining about not having.

Secondly, if those identifying themselves as have-nots, focused on just what their complaints are, they might have a better chance of improving their lot instead of (mostly) just pulling those who work harder and/or more intelligently, or are just luckier, than they down to their level.

I think the Occupy Wall Street Crowd are bothered most by what they believe to be their inferior recreation, and to a lesser degree, by their lack of success at dominantry (in other words, unhappy not to be able to tell others what to do as much as they’d like to, or get the government to do that; and not having the social status they believe they merit, badges and the like being important to them).

Outside the country’s main have vs. have-not conflict is the productive class–those for whom some combination of art, versosophy and utilitry are much more important than any other human activity.

My impression is that the largest group in America–call it “the masses”–cares about little other than susteniation, quotidiation and recreation.  Then there is the group whose members consider their chief activity dominantry.

Freewenders, milyoops and rigidniks, according to my theory of temperaments.  The masses form the classes in conflict, with the dominantry-centered taking sides in accordance with their estimation of which is most likely to win, and elevation them.  Not that there aren’t verosophers (like me, right now) contributing commentary which may have influence.

Complex subject, this–that I may have scratched the beginnings of a few paths toward an understanding of so far, but am too weary to keep working on at the moment.

.

Visitor Counter

Entry 343 — Working, But Going Nowhere « POETICKS

Entry 343 — Working, But Going Nowhere

I’m still fooling with my “Mathemaku in Praise of Reading, No. 1.”  Haven’t quite gotten it right.  I also touched up one of the five mathemaku I did for Bill Di Michele’s blog–by putting quotations marks that I thought necessary around the dividend.

Meanwhile, annoyed with more irresponsible uses of the word, “poem,” specifically either employing it to mean too many things to make it any longer useful for intelligent communication, or characterizing it sometimes interestingly but always subjectively and excessively vaguely as when Frost calls it “what is lost in translation,” I produced the following coinage: “disfinition.”  I haven’t worked up a good definition of this.  For the time being, it is simply an antonym for “definition.”

Leave a Reply

Dale Jensen « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Dale Jensen’ Category

Entry 385 — My Most-Used Coinage

Monday, February 21st, 2011

On 2/21/2011 3:21 AM, Jake Berry wrote:

Bob,    Hope this finds you well. I'm working on an essay and I'd like to  use your term 'otherstream', but I want to quote your definition  of the word directly. I haven't been able to find it on the internet  and I have no idea where it might be among all my books and papers.  So how would you define it?    Best,  Jake  

Terrific hearing from you, Jake–although it makes me feel guilty by reminding me of what a horrible correspondent I’ve been for going on ten years or more.  So many people I haven’t kept in touch with but should have!  Although I do keep up with you on the Internet.

Ah, the old days when I was one of the Kings of the  . . . Otherstream because I owned my own Xerox!  I’ve had some ungood years since then.  2010 was possibly the worst year I’ve had in thirty years.  But this year, so far, is going pretty well, although right now I’m in my null zone again.

Maybe not–your e.mail has me at least partway out of it.  Great to know someone still likes my coinage, and it was fun doing my own search for it on the Internet.  I found an article about Dale Jensen and his wife, Judy Wells, in which the term was used, followed by a comment by Jack Foley (good ol’ Jack) declaring that Andrew Joron had not coined “otherstream,” Bob Grumman had!

Somewhere else some guy took credit for coining it in 1996. My guess is that I first used it around 1985, so it has just has its 25th anniversary.  If I, indeed, was the first to use it.  Who knows if I did or not.  I don’t care.  I mean, it’d be nice to know for sure some word that more than a few people use was my word, but I’m really not that big about getting credit.  I want money, not credit!

Oh, I also found out there are various businesses calling themselves “otherstream” this or that, including, I think, a broadcast network.

So, a definition.  I’ve defined it in different although similar ways.  I think I would say that “otherstream” is my adjective for kinds works of art the great majority of arts academics, well-known critics, commercial publishers and commercial magazine editors know little more than the names of, if that.  A brief definition: art that’s now taught in college classes.  For me, it means approximately but only approximately the opposite of “mainstream.”  What it’s the exact opposite of is “knownstream.”  That’s because some art is knownstream, like certain kinds of very formal verse–the sestina, say, is well-known to most literature professors but is not what you’d call a kind of mainstream poetry.  I don’t think cowboy poems are considered mainstream, either, or though fairly popular.  I used it mainly for visual poetry, sound poetry and language poetry when I began using it, but some language poetry has become mainstream.

Hope this helps.  Thanks for wanting to use the word, which I think is a useful one.  And for inspiring me to write what I have here, which I can now use for today’s entry in my blog!  Make sure to link me to your essay when it’s online, or send it to me if it’s printed–with the hundred dollar royalty fee I charge for the use of any of my coinages.  (You can use “knownstream,” also mine, for half-price.)

all best, Bob

Jack Foley « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Jack Foley’ Category

Entry 385 — My Most-Used Coinage

Monday, February 21st, 2011

On 2/21/2011 3:21 AM, Jake Berry wrote:

Bob,    Hope this finds you well. I'm working on an essay and I'd like to  use your term 'otherstream', but I want to quote your definition  of the word directly. I haven't been able to find it on the internet  and I have no idea where it might be among all my books and papers.  So how would you define it?    Best,  Jake  

Terrific hearing from you, Jake–although it makes me feel guilty by reminding me of what a horrible correspondent I’ve been for going on ten years or more.  So many people I haven’t kept in touch with but should have!  Although I do keep up with you on the Internet.

Ah, the old days when I was one of the Kings of the  . . . Otherstream because I owned my own Xerox!  I’ve had some ungood years since then.  2010 was possibly the worst year I’ve had in thirty years.  But this year, so far, is going pretty well, although right now I’m in my null zone again.

Maybe not–your e.mail has me at least partway out of it.  Great to know someone still likes my coinage, and it was fun doing my own search for it on the Internet.  I found an article about Dale Jensen and his wife, Judy Wells, in which the term was used, followed by a comment by Jack Foley (good ol’ Jack) declaring that Andrew Joron had not coined “otherstream,” Bob Grumman had!

Somewhere else some guy took credit for coining it in 1996. My guess is that I first used it around 1985, so it has just has its 25th anniversary.  If I, indeed, was the first to use it.  Who knows if I did or not.  I don’t care.  I mean, it’d be nice to know for sure some word that more than a few people use was my word, but I’m really not that big about getting credit.  I want money, not credit!

Oh, I also found out there are various businesses calling themselves “otherstream” this or that, including, I think, a broadcast network.

So, a definition.  I’ve defined it in different although similar ways.  I think I would say that “otherstream” is my adjective for kinds works of art the great majority of arts academics, well-known critics, commercial publishers and commercial magazine editors know little more than the names of, if that.  A brief definition: art that’s now taught in college classes.  For me, it means approximately but only approximately the opposite of “mainstream.”  What it’s the exact opposite of is “knownstream.”  That’s because some art is knownstream, like certain kinds of very formal verse–the sestina, say, is well-known to most literature professors but is not what you’d call a kind of mainstream poetry.  I don’t think cowboy poems are considered mainstream, either, or though fairly popular.  I used it mainly for visual poetry, sound poetry and language poetry when I began using it, but some language poetry has become mainstream.

Hope this helps.  Thanks for wanting to use the word, which I think is a useful one.  And for inspiring me to write what I have here, which I can now use for today’s entry in my blog!  Make sure to link me to your essay when it’s online, or send it to me if it’s printed–with the hundred dollar royalty fee I charge for the use of any of my coinages.  (You can use “knownstream,” also mine, for half-price.)

all best, Bob

Entry 88 — MATO2, Chapter 1.10

Thursday, January 28th, 2010

During the next two  days I got a copy in the mail of the introductory essay Richard Kostelanetz wanted me to critique, the manuscript of a poetry collection John Bennett my press was going to publish, and letters from Jake Berry and Jack Foley.  Richard’s essay was is fairly good but I saw a number of things I counted wrong with it;.  As for John’s manuscript, it seemed fine–one poem in particular, whose main image was a car wash, I especially liked.  I wrote a short letter of full acceptance to John and a card acknowledging receipt, and suggesting he delete much of one section of his essay, to Richard.

Jack’s letter was friendly but he quickly.got on me for under-representing females and blacks (and Asiatics) in of Manywhere.  In my reply I tried to skirt the issue.  I didn’t pugnaciously tell him that my purpose was accuracy, not making the world better for members of victim-groups.  Hence, I wrote about the four canonical poets, all male, whom I admired enough to put explicitly into the sonnet my book was partly about,  and the fifth, also male, to whom the sonnet strongly alluded.  Except for a few short passages about Shakespeare and a mention or two of contemporary linguexpressive poets like Wilbur, my book is about an area of literature few women have done anything of importance in, and no blacks that I knew of at the time I wrote it.  The late Bill Keith is still the only significant black American in visual poetry I know about,  Larry Tomoyasu the only Asian American.   I don’t know whether I knew him when I wrote the first volume of my series.  I don’t believe I mentioned him in it.

The ever-amiable Jake was fully positive about my book.

Entry 414 — A New Term « POETICKS

Entry 414 — A New Term

I have a new term to announce: “knowlecular mind-flow.”  I’m only announcing it because I have nothing else to write about here, and I’m trying again to do a daily entry.  Although that will probably stop for a week or more fairly soon as I am seeing my hip doctor tomorrow to schedule hip replacement surgery.  I figure if it doesn’t help me, I won’t be worse off than I now am (except if I become permanently, painfully crippled, which I deem highly unlikely).  I won’t be worse off since I feel I’m at the point where my bad hip just barely keeps me from enjoying walking, running and tennis, so if the operation puts me a mile further from enjoying those things, so what.  It’s like the difference between losing in the finals  at Wimbledon 6-7, 6-7, 7-6, 7-6, 100-98, and losing in the first round, 6-0, 6-0, 6-0.

By mind-flow, by the way, I mean everything one is conscious of at a given moment.  “Thinking” means too many different things, particularly (and mainly) unvoiced words.  “Mentation” is better but tends, I think, to exclude feelings.  The best thing about “mind-flow,” modified by “knowlecular,” is that I can define it.  I need it right now for my discussion of rigidnikry in my Shakespeare authorship book.

Leave a Reply

Old Age « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Old Age’ Category

Entry 1220 — Old Age, Part 3

Saturday, September 21st, 2013

Now to my thesis that we oldsters can no long fit knowleplexes larger than a certain not-very-large size into our brains—because of the size and complexity of the structures we’ve already erected in them.  I have a simple analogy to explain it: one’s understanding of existence as a little city in the cerebrum that one’s brain has spent its lifetime building.  Everything in it is basically as permanent as city buildings; repairs are made, unmendable damage occurs, but basically, little changes.  Eventually, there is no longer any place to erect anything new of significant size.  I suppose one could demolish some old building to make room, but I think that would be more difficult than destroying a city building is.

At some point, one starts to have trouble figuring out where to put new data.  A consideration is keeping track of important old understandings.  Result: a more and more great disinclination to read anything with new data in it.

I’ve scratched the surface of my ideas on this–without sating them too carefully.  Old age making me too tired to?  Old age making it hard for me to find the words and ideas I need?  Both?

One thing I particular delayed me: my wanting to use my terms for various kinds of data.  I was sure I had tree terms, but could not remember the third, and find any list tat had it.  The two that are, right now, second-nature enough for me not easily to forget (although I have always been able to forget just about anything) “knowlecule” or word-sized datum like “hoof” or “horse”; and “knowleplex” or complex specialty like zoology–the discipline, not the word for it.  Both knowlecules and knowleplexes come in various sizes.  In many cases, it’s not easy to say which a given datum is.  Many, too, are both: the game of baseball, for instance, is a knowlecule for a doctor specializing in sports injuries; but a knowleplex for a baseball manager.

I’d been wondering about my third conage for several days.  It finally occurred to me a little while ago (it’s a little after four as I write this, in case anyone cares–as a scholar in the next century plotting my creative cycles may): “knowlexpanse” or a significantly large field like biology.  I think somewhere I coined a word for world-view, too, and lost it.  Or maybe accepted “world-view” as good enough.

I’m stopping now–as I seldom would have with so little written forty, or even just twenty, years ago.

.

Entry 1219 — Old Age, Part 2

Friday, September 20th, 2013

When I reached my intellectual prime is near-impossible to pin down, but my favorite guess—mainly, I suspect, because it’s a standardly Interesting Number, is the age of fifty.  One thing that makes the choice near-impossible is how to compare one’s breakthrough understanding of his subject (or, in my case, one of them) with his later, very gradual efforts to make that understanding full, coherent, and—perhaps most important, and definitely most difficult—accessible to others.

I came up with the basis, still unchanged except superficially, of my knowlecular psychology at the age of 26 and don’t feel I’ve yet made it full, coherent and accessible, although I’ve had many breakthroughs that (in my view, valuably) expanded it, and continuously simplified and clarified it—while simultaneously, alas, complicating and muddying it.

My peak as a poet is much easier to identify, although I’m uncertain of the exact dates involved.1

My major breakthrough into long division poetry (after a minor breakthrough into mathematical poetry twenty years or so previous that I didn’t go anywhere with for fifteen years or more) happened when I was around fifty-five; my much less consequential breakthrough into my Poem poems occurred at about the same time.  Two definite peaks that all that nothing that followed reached although I am sure some of the poems I later made were my best till then.  I contend that making one’s best poem does not require more or even as much, intelligence, talent, or whatever, as making one’s first successful poem that is significantly and valuably different from all the other poems one has composed.  In fact, coming up with a bad poem may require more skill than making a very good one if the bad one is new in a wonderfully exploitable way.2

In short, I think I peaked as a poet at the age of 55, then held my own pretty much until recently, when I’ve become substantially less productive than I’d been between 55 and 70.  I don’t think the level of my poems has dropped, just the number of them.  An interesting possibility is that I may still compose the visiopoetic epic I’ve wanted someday to.  What kind of peak would it be?  It would probably be my major work as a poet.  I’m pretty sure it would include several poems I already consider major—for me.  But the intelligence and/or related abilities I’d need to bring it off would not need to be at the high level they once were, or even all that close to it.

I realize that I’ve not done much work on my psychology since I turned 70 or 71, either.  I want to pull it together into a unified whole the same way I hope to pull together my poetry into a unified epic.  Again, it would not take what its discovery and later additions and improvements did.

I don’t know of any thinker or artist who did anything after turning 70 or so that greatly changed the over-all value of his work as a whole.  Picasso, for instance, turning out hundreds of works, some of them as fine as anything he’d previously done, but meaning he’d made 654 masterpieces instead of only 611: so what?  We don’t really need them, happy as we should be to have them.  (For one thing, others are carrying on from where he left off—something true of all the other great artists, and thinkers who went on to do valuable work after 70.)

In every other way, people over 70 are nothing like they were at 35 or even 55.  For most jobs, a businessman would be stupid to hire someone that old instead of a much younger person.  Affirmative action will no doubt soon force him to.  As a matter of fact, I think there have been several cases of elderly farts successfully suing businesses that fired them.

Odd, the idea I had that sparked this discussion I almost left the discussion without mentioning.  It concerns the inability of elderly farts to acquire data significantly new to them.  In simplest terms, it concerns how these people stop reading complex books.  I was thinking of myself, of how it’s been, what, twenty years, since I read the equivalent of an undergraduate textbook on anything?!  My thesis, which I hope to get to tomorrow, is that we oldsters can no long fit knowleplexes larger than a certain not-very-large size into our brains—because of the size and complexity of the structures we’ve already erected in them.

* * *

1 I believe my diary has the particulars, or most of them, but I’m certainly not going to research it right now

 2 As Gertrude Stein’s specimens of prose (evocature, a sub-category of prose, is what I call the kind of literature they are) in Tender Buttons have been for many, albeit not her (although I would call a few of them more successful than not).

Egalapsychosis: the insane belief that no one is inferior in any way to anyone else.  A mental dysfunctionality common to American liberals.

.

Entry 1218 — My Ageism

Thursday, September 19th, 2013

About the only good thing about being as old as I am is that it gives me a group to be politically incorrect about because I’m in it.  The group, of course, is . . . senior citizens.  I contend that anyone who thinks senior citizens are not inferior to those younger than they is out of his mind.  I do believe that an elderly fart–someone over fifty-five (plus or minus anywhere from one to ten years)–should have one advantage over his juniors, including himself when younger: his experience.  He will exploit it more slowly than he once was able to, but possibly get more out of it–or at least something valuably new out of it.

* * *

I’m afraid that’s all for now.  I had a meeting of my local writers’ group to go to and when I got back, I was shot.

Note: I had this one done on time but forgot to make it pubic.

.

Entry 1217 — Old Age

Wednesday, September 18th, 2013

After typing the beginning of a short essay on my ageism, I found out I had suddenly gotten a day behind here.  So I needed to do two entries.  I decided the one for yesterday would be brief, and about old age since I’d already put it in that category.  Ergo, my opinion about being old: it stinks.  More about it in my entry for today.

As for the 18th of September, I did get something done on it: my latest Scientific American blog entry, although it won’t posted until Saturday, or maybe late Friday night.  I also worked on multiplication poems for dogs, one for my dentist and one for a local writer-friend.  I had silly ideas for a while that I could make money selling personalized copies of the thing, but soon realized there was no chance of that–although I hope to try it.

Okay, now to try to get today’s entry done, in spite of being already all worn out.

.

Entry 276 — The Irratioplex « POETICKS

Entry 276 — The Irratioplex

Another day in the null zone for me, perhaps because I’m going without the pain pills I’ve been on for my bad hip as an experiment.  I played tennis this morning without any more of the slight hip pain I’ve been having with the pain pills.  That was nice but since I got home from that and a little marketing (for socks and new sneakers), I I’ve been feeling blah.  A nap didn’t help.

Meanwhile, I’m been feeling bitter about my reputation as a defender of Shakespeare.  SHAKSPER, an Internet discussion group I’m in, has for several days been discussing the proper reaction to a movie coming out called Anonymous, in which the Earl of Oxford is depicted as Shakespeare–and as Queen Elizabeth’s son–and Southampton is depicted as Oxford and Elizabeth’s son.  I think it may destroy Oxfordianism the way the preposterous codes found in Shakespeare’s plays “proving” Bacon wrote them pretty much destroyed Baconism.

What irks me is that several who comment at SHAKSPER mentioned James Shapiro’s recent book on the authorship question, and books and articles on it by others, but not my book.  No doubt I’m biased, but I consider my book the best refutation of anti-Stratfordianism in print, and the only one that presents a serious theory of what makes people become anti-Stratfordianism–whether valid or not.  Yet the Shakespeare establishment, and their little followers at the two authorship sites I participate in don’t mention me, or respond to my posts to SHAKSPER.  Maybe they don’t want it known that our side has a crank like me on it.   A crank, morover, who calls anti-Stratfordians “psitchotics.”

Nonetheless, my attempt to understand what causes reasonably intelligent people to become psitchotics where Shakespeare is concerned, and–more important–find a way to express my finding entertainingly and coherently, continues, with a minor development today, the new term “irratioplex.”  This I pronounce ehr RAH shuh plehks.  Do I misspell it?  Possibly, but “irratiplex” doesn’t do it for me.

And irratioplex is an irrational knowleplex.  There are several.  Two of them are the rigidniplex and the enthusiaplex.  I now maintain that all anti-Stratfordians are afflicted with one or the other of these two irratioplexes.  The new term allows me to couple them as victims of irratioplexes, then show how they differ from one another by virtue of their (slightly) different irratioplexes.  The rigidniks’ irratioplex is forced on them by their innate psychology; the enthusiasts’ (who are frrewenders) acquire their irratioplexes during fits of enthiuiasm, making them quickly too strong thereafter to resist.  Both irratioplexes act the same once active. both nearly impossible for their victims’ to resist.

My new strategy for the description of wacks is to concentrate on irratioplexes in general, proceed to  rigidniplexes and enthusiaplexes in general, then to how the latter two specifically enslave their victims to anti-Stratfordianism.

Leave a Reply

Wackagandism « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Wackagandism’ Category

Entry 1304 — Wow, Two More Coinages!

Thursday, December 19th, 2013

“Propagandfication” and “Othereststream Poetry.”

The first is from the following post I just sent off to a site where I’m arguing against wacks who believe Shakespeare was an imposter and had called a post by one of them full of sludge, whereupon he questioned the appropriateness of my use of the term:

As a verosopher, I consider sludge by authorship wacks to be groundless assertions and badly-supported arguments that have been refuted hundreds of times by the sane.  Among them are such assertions as one you favor: “No one wrote a eulogy to Shakespeare after he died until 1623.”  The Water poet did.  Basse almost certainly did.  Maybe one or two others.  Read David Kathman’s essay on this at his and Terry Ross’s site.  I quote much of what he says in it in my book.

But even if we did not have the Water poet’s poem, or any other poem to Shakespeare until 1623, the assertion would be what I call a propagandification, which is a statement which some propagandist presents as true although we lack sufficient data to determine whether it is genuinely true or not.  If we had no poems dedicated to Shakespeare until 1623, a scholar of integrity would NOT say, “No one wrote a eulogy to Shakespeare after he died until 1623,” he would say, “No poem dedicated to Shakespeare after he died until 1623 has survived.”  If not an authorship wack, he would add that there is no reason to expect that any would, or even that any would necessarily have been written, although he would guess that some were but were withheld for publication in the First Folio.  He would certainly not consider the lack of poems to mean much beside all the evidence there IS for Shakespeare.  Absence of evidence can be useful when the identity of an author is obscure due to scarcity of data, but a monument, a collection of plays with the author’s name and picture in it, and known associates of his confirming his identity, forty or so books from when he was alive with his name on the title-page, mentions of him as a writer by a number of writers of his time, and much else is not scarcity of evidence.

The second occurred to me this morning when I was contemplating how “otherstream poetry” has lost the meaning I gave it–because so many use it for poetry I consider standard, like simple neo-Ashberianism.
.

Entry 1199 — Wackagandism

Saturday, August 31st, 2013

My latest coinage means “the propagandistic techniques of cranks, kooks and others advancing totally insane theories of verosophy such as the idea that someone other than William Shakespeare of Stratford-upon-Avon wrote the works attributed to him.”  It came to me while thinking about the contributions of Oxfordian Steve Steinberg to the thread here about the Oxfordian movie, Anonymous.  In reply to a post of mine trying for the third or fourth time to explain an argument against a contention of his, he told me that in order to explain something, I had to know something.  Here’s what I wrote back:

* * *

Good one, Steve, but somewhat off the mark.  Nonetheless, it’s gotten me to try to explain something to you again.  What I’m going to try to explain to you is how bad your tendency almost always to dodge problems with your position makes you look.  No, I realize that first I must explain to you that you DO this, for I fear I believe you don’t realize you do.  I will use this short back&forth of ours to do so.

First off, I describe a problem I have with your position: your contention that Shakespeare of Stratford would not have been exposed to a more or less standard curriculum is wrong.  You called the presumption that English schools of the time had any kind of standard curriculum a “myth” (debasing one of the world’s most precious terms by misusing it as a synonym for “error,” and implied synonym for “lie” the way so many propagandists moronically do).

At this point, you derided me for claiming that Latin, a single scholastic subject, could mean “curriculum,” or collection of subjects.  Or so I interpreted you to be doing.  You ignored the full context of my post which, I feel, should have made my point clear.  In any case, you made no attempt to figure out what my point was, if you truly failed to understand it, nor ask me what it was.  You EVADED the problem I had tried to bring to your attention.

2. Still, maybe I WAS (Italics intended) unclear.   If I was, my next post should have helped you, although it was sarcastically put.  Here is where your nature as a propagandistic evader of problems to your case came fully to the fore: as I probably not fully accurately recall, you continued not to understand my point; more important, you spread the conversation all over the place, a standardly propagandistic ploy of anti-Stratfordians (and probably unconscious) to draw one’s opponents into irrelevancies, and away from whatever point they are advancing, which you can’t deal effectively with.

3. I restated my point.  Your response to this was simply to tell me I don’t know anything–which, by the way, is another standardly propagandistic ploy of anti-Stratfordians: insulting one’s opponent maximally, consciously or unconsciously aware that making someone angry is a good way to distract him from his central intention.

Okay, now to give you an easy chance to show that you can respond to a description of something that may be wrong with your case without doing what I have claimed you do habitually: I will re-state as clearly as I can what’s wrong with your idea about what Shakespeare would have learned at his grammar school.  All you have to do is say what you disagree with in my statement and why–AND avoid telling me what a jerk Baldwin was (and I am), et cetera.  You must avoid the temptation otherwise to tackle about my characterization of you above, too.  In other words, I want you to demonstrate that you can argue unevasively, not just say you can.  But if you actually attend focusedly to my point, I will be glad to discuss my characterization of the way you operate in a different thread.

Good one, Steve, but somewhat off the mark.  Nonetheless, it’s gotten me to try to explain something to you again.  What I’m going to try to explain to you is how bad your tendency almost always to dodge problems with your position makes you look.  No, I realize that first I must explain to you that you DO this, for I fear I believe you don’t realize you do.  I will use this short back&forth of ours to do so.

First off, I describe a problem I have with your position: your contention that Shakespeare of Stratford would not have been exposed to a more or less standard curriculum is wrong.  You called the presumption that English schools of the time had any kind of standard curriculum a “myth” (debasing one of the world’s most precious terms by misusing it as a synonym for “error,” and implied synonym for “lie” the way so many propagandists moronically do).

At this point, you derided me for claiming that Latin, a single scholastic subject, could mean “curriculum,” or collection of subjects.  Or so I interpreted you to be doing.  You ignored the full context of my post which, I feel, should have made my point clear.  In any case, you made no attempt to figure out what my point was, if you truly failed to understand it, nor ask me what it was.  You EVADED the problem I had tried to bring to your attention.

2. Still, maybe I WAS (Italics intended) unclear.   If I was, my next post should have helped you, although it was sarcastically put.  Here is where your nature as a propagandistic evader of problems to your case came fully to the fore: as I probably not fully accurately recall, you continued not to understand my point; more important, you spread the conversation all over the place, a standardly propagandistic ploy of anti-Stratfordians (and probably unconscious) to draw one’s opponents into irrelevancies, and away from whatever point they are advancing, which you can’t deal effectively with.

3. I restated my point.  Your response to this was simply to tell me I don’t know anything–which, by the way, is another standardly propagandistic ploy of anti-Stratfordians: insulting one’s opponent maximally, consciously or unconsciously aware that making someone angry is a good way to distract him from his central intention.

Okay, now to give you an easy chance to show that you can respond to a description of something that may be wrong with your case without doing what I have claimed you do habitually: I will re-state as clearly as I can what’s wrong with your idea about what Shakespeare would have learned at his grammar school.  All you have to do is say what you disagree with in my statement and why–AND avoid telling me what a jerk Baldwin was (and I am), et cetera.  You must avoid the temptation otherwise to tackle about my characterization of you above, too.  In other words, I want you to demonstrate that you can argue unevasively, not just say you can.  But if you actually attend focusedly to my point, I will be glad to discuss my characterization of the way you operate in a different thread.

* * *

I then added a second post in which I warned that “I now have a new plan: using quotations from this enormous thread as the basis of a monograph on what I’m tentatively calling ‘Wackagandistic Techniques.’ So be careful what you type. If I actually go through with this, and I only get seriously involved in about two percent of the projects I tell people I’m going to, and finish less than one percent of those, I will post it and make changes to misquotations–or accurate quotations of passages their authors didn’t mean. In other words, I’ll try to be fair, though never not nasty.”

I chose to quote my first post because I think it pretty good–although way off-topic for this blog.  Beware: I will no doubt be using this blog for more matter concerned with wackagandism.  I find that there’s nothing I enjoy more than writing about mental dysfunctionality.  What I write has to be valuable: either because it’s insightful or because it epitomizes mental dysfunctionality.

.

Entry 445 — Vaudevillic Poetry « POETICKS

Entry 445 — Vaudevillic Poetry

I’ve coined another term, “Vaudevillic Poetry,” for what I’ve been calling “Jump-Cut Poetry.”  This is a somewhat derogatory term inspired by my bias against short-attention span art, the kind of art that presents discontinuous acts.  It reminds me of why I never much liked television variety shows like Ed Sullivan’s when young, and have rarely looked forward to visits to museums.  Lots of fun stuff but within an hour I start getting a headache.  I’m too much of a convergent thinker, I guess.

Lately I’ve decided that the “language poetry” now gaining Official Recognition is really not much different from Ashbery’s vaudevillic poetry, so really is not extending what the academy recognizes as poetry of value.  Ergo, Wilshberia remains the only part of the contemporary American poetry continuum the Poetry Establishment has any really knowledge of.

Additional note: I’m renaming “Sprungrammatical Poetry” “Grammar-Centered Poetry.”  Accessibility and all that.  So: in my taxonomy, there are two kinds of Language poetry: grammar-centered and infraverbal.  I’m thinking, too, that there are two kinds of vaudevillic poetry: phrase-length and sentence-length.  “Jumbled-Text” may be a third–one beyond Wilshberia.  But possibly beyond what I conceive as poetry, as well–i.e., hyperhermetic or Steinian, if you consider her short texts poems (although I feel I get some of them).

Leave a Reply