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Comments:
Ingrid - 2005-02-21 17:59:36 I'd say it's poor customer service when a representative of a newspaper responds to a longtime subscriber's observation of a journalistic error with an accusatory and angry letter. * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-21 20:35:33 Ingrid: a front-page story in the Belleview View about a Belleville funeral home winning an award was made to do double duty by appearing in the Courier as well. A recent break-in about two blocks from my home, a recent Ypsi Twp stabbing, and a recent episode of gunshots fired during a narcotics investigation in an Ypsi apartment were reported by the Ann Arbor News. In all fairness, the most recent issue of the Courier did mention an armed robber is at large.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-21 21:51:05 I will add in all fairness that the latest issue of the paper contained nine actual news stories. The remainder were opinion pieces, a report on a club's essay contest, a report on a community program, a history piece, a humor piece, and some reports on upcoming community events. At any rate.* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-21 22:15:59 A press release and a news story are not interchangeable, despite whatever obfuscating policy is in use by a paper. To blur the lines between the two is disingenuous to the reader, and frankly lazy. Unfortunately, this sort of thing is all too common these days. How can we really trust a news source that either sanitizes content in accordance with a corporate PR policy, or simply recycles press relases and ads as "real" news? I recall another instance recently where an advertisement for a local dentist was inadvertantly passed off as news by these guys. Not really getting off on a good foot, are they? * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-21 23:37:22 No. * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 01:25:24 On rereading Mr. Kondek's comments, I realize I haven't heard such mindless apologist drivel since I recently witnessed the Republicans form an impromptu Greek chorus to inform us all that Social Security is in crisis. What utter nonsense. To read, a day after Hunter Thompson's death, a so-called "journalist" actually defending his theft of a press release and passing it off as an original story, that he was paid for, is nauseating. Such an attitude displays not only an ignorance of journalistic standards but a contempt towards intelligent Ypsilantians who want to know what's going on in City Council, what's up with the Water Street Project, what's the status of the tenants' rent strike over at Highland--all of those issues are more important than a story about bands doing covers, There's nothing wrong with such an event. But it's not front-burner news, Rotarian-style boosterish "community" double-speak notwithstanding. What it boils down to is that I feel I'm losing touch with what's really going on in Ypsi due to lazy, self-defensive "journalists" and the paper's uncaring attitude, as inferred from the recent high volume of lightweight non-news stories, that treats me and every other inquiring Ypsilantian as though we're idiots without the ability to judge good, solid reporting from cheap fluff.* * * * * * * * * * * * Michael McC. - 2005-02-22 07:51:43 What, like the A2 Snooze doesn't just rip junk off the wire and rerun it? I thought Charlie's answer was right on the spot. He got a release about something he was already completely aware of, and he made it into something informative and newsworthy. Where was the sacred Observer on this? Have they even mentioned it? Do they care? Oh, I forgot - it's in Ypsitucky.* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 08:50:47 Before you accuse the paper of "poor customer service," why not send a letter to the paper with your suggestions and criticisms, rather then leaving them here, assuming they're being read? As I said, these messages from me are personal. I do not represent the paper and cannot speak for them. As for the rest, I'm being called an apologist, accused of spouting "drivel" and "double-speak" and a "so-called journalist" who would make Dr. Thompson roll over on his mortuary slab. Nice. Let me reiterate my points, simply. It is not a sin to publish press releases as is when they publicize events that are important to the community. It is not a sin to rewrite press releases as news stories. You're simply wrong, and I suspect your enthusiasm toward the subject comes from your wanting to make your blog look more important than it is, and because the Courier sympathizes with an element of Ypsilanti you despise, the "regular folks" that, like it or not, are a valuable part of the town. Perhaps you should move to Ann Arbor, Detroit, or Royal Oak. * * * * * * * * * * * * Ingrid - 2005-02-22 09:48:11 I have had the good fortune to recently stumble on this blog, and I like it because it is quirky and focuses on the past and present of the city that I live in. I'm not pleased with the Courier's changes because the paper has become less quirky, more regional, homogenous and there is actually less of a feel for "regular folks" in our town. I'm not so interested in rehashed news from Belleville. I am also dissatisfied with A2News coverage of Ypsi for the same reasons. For that matter, I hate USA Today as well. We're lucky that some decent blogs such as this one are emerging to fill the gaps that our traditional papers have left. * * * * * * * * * * * * Anna - 2005-02-22 09:50:39 Well, I have never heard that it's OK to run press releases as articles, for whatever it's worth. Personally, it seems to me that they should be run as advertisements, if the newspaper wishes to devote free space for these advertisements, that's great. Sounds to me like there are legit beefs with the Courier that have nothing to do with Ypsidixit's desire to seem "more important" -- from what I gather, old staff were cut, one issue ran almost entirely without stories because of some sort of email snafu (!?), an advertisement for an orthodontist ran as a *news story* and so forth. There are certainly legitimate beefs, whether you like the way Ypsidixit has decided to voice them or not. Incidentally, although you claim that her postings aren't being read by Courier staff, you contradict that by writing your rebuttal here.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 09:56:35 Ingrid: thank you for your very kind words. I am glad you enjoy the blog. Anna: thanks for your comment. * * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 09:57:32 Breathtaking in it's arrogance, isn't it. Love the sneering suggestion that Ypsidixit "move to Ann Arbor, Detroit, or Royal Oak," all the while purporting to represent the "regular folks" of Ypsilanti. Despite misguided assertions to the contrary, there is a difference between press releases, advertisements, and actual news reporting. To present ad copy or a press release as bonafide news underscores a fundamental lack of understanding of journalistic principle. But, what do I know? After all, I'm not "regular" folks; I'm from Ann Arbor. _____________________________* * * * * * * * * * * * Eric * - 2005-02-22 10:28:47 You've backed yourself into a corner. You can either cancel your subscription, offer to write for the Courier, or suggest meaningful improvements. Choosing not to do something like that risks making you the Lee Tooson of cyberspace.* * * * * * * * * * * * Michael McC. - 2005-02-22 10:33:23 journalistic principle : military intelligence. I mean spare me - the Courier? They cover local events and sell a few papers. Let's not get all lofty about principles for a night out at a dive bar. A story is a story. The public found out about Tribute Night, the guy who puts it on was pleased, and there's so little money changing hands that it's beneath discussion. * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 10:40:08 Michael & Eric *: I would invite you to examine issues of the excellent former local paper the Ypsilanti Press, available on microfilm in Halle Library, to see what constitutes a small, high-quality paper that did a good job of comprehensively covering the community.* * * * * * * * * * * * Anna - 2005-02-22 10:54:24 Here's an article from the little local paper from my teeny weeny town in Maine: http://www.weeklypacket.com/wpnewsfeature1.html It is not slick. It's not fancy. But it tells you *exactly* what happened at the tax meeting. *That* is what a local newspaper should do; keep residents informed of important local information.* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 11:02:00 Laura and Anna: Props to you. Saying a town is too small, or citing another bad local paper as an example are not a good reasons to quit giving a damn and publish junk. * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 11:12:20Anna: Thank you for the link to the Packet story. That is an excellent example of keeping local people in the know, via clear, factual stories, about important issues that affect them. If a tiny Maine town can produce such quality, surely a town of 25,000 can do the same or better. Thank you, Dan Arbor.* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 11:22:31 For the last time, I do not represent the Courier. I am not "Courier staff." I'm a freelancer. If you'd really like to address the paper, write the paper, they'd be happy to hear from you. Further: I'm not sure where you're getting the idea that staff got cut by some new, evil overlords. The Courier allowed itself to get purchased by the Heritage newspaper chain, a very good move for them since it makes them financially stronger. The editor left the paper to start a company. A new editor was appointed. Both are wonderful to work for. And a refresher on the histry of the paper: the founders of this paper, who are still running it, worked for the Ypsi Press and started the Courier when the Press went under to create and maintain a local paper that was not run by the A2 Snooze. I mean it, you're doing them a disservice by criticizing them. Say what you like about me and my "arrogance," lighten up on the Courier, please.* * * * * * * * * * * * raymond - 2005-02-22 11:53:04 The Courier has completely ignored any press release I've sent. I hope the staff recycled the discarded paper.* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 12:13:35 Send it to me, Raymond. What's it about? charliekondek at yahoo dot com* * * * * * * * * * * * lynne - 2005-02-22 12:32:44 I am still kind of wondering about that "regular folk" of Ypsilanti comment. Who are these "regular folk?" I always thought I would count in that crowd but maybe not. I mean, I grew up in Detroit. I work in Ann Arbor. I think Royal Oak is a fine place. Does that mean that I am not the "regular folk" of Ypsilanti even though I have lived here for the better part of the past 12 years? * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 12:42:02 Lynne: I also wondered at that unexplained remark. * * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 12:48:34 By that comment, Lynne, I meant that there is an attitude among some Ypsi residents or Ypsi observers that feels some elements of Ypsi society are undesirable. Such people usually complain about, for example, the teddy bear store on Cross, or the parade of classic cars in summer, stuff like that. This blog has in the past commented that it unfavorably identifies the Courier with that segment of Ypsi. In fact, Laura slammed the paper until I wrote a story about Ypsi blogs, at which point she had nice things to say about the paper, which apparently she rescinds. That's what I meant by the "regular folk" comment. Laura and Co. seem to feel that the Courier is too unsophisticated to provide them with what they want in a newspaper. A copy of the story I just referenced can be found here: http://www.ypsilanticourier.com/2004/homepage/04030401.htm* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 13:06:25 By the way, re-reading some of these comments I just realized you called me a thief. It's also come to my attention that you, Laura, have a master's degree in journalism and work for an area paper. What Eric said above makes more sense: instead of lording it over your corner of cyberspace, why not pitch in and make a contribution? * * * * * * * * * * * * Ingrid - 2005-02-22 13:20:15 I'm always uncomfortable with arguments positing that criticisms of our media or political institutions are inappropriate. Such arguments remind me of the old slogan, "America Love it or Leave it." * * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 13:44:34 Ingrid - Me, too. But, welcome to the Bush era, I guess...* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 13:54:48 Straw man argument, Ingrid and Dan, and an ironic one seeing as how I'm so left wing. An invalid criticism is an invalid criticism; in this case, the press release "issue." This is like you saying, "Pickles ruin a sandwich," and my saying, "No, they don't," and you saying, "Well, that's life in the Bush era, I guess. No more free speech on sandwiches." Fact is, most places give you a pickle, whether or not you eat it is up to you. Tell you what, next time I attend one of those secret meetings where the local Fox News execs, who are the real power behind the Courier, plot the blatant thievery of press releases as a way of undermining disestamblishmentism, I'll let them know we better watch our step because "the bloggers are onto us." * * * * * * * * * * * * Rogan - 2005-02-22 14:10:32 Cut Mr. Kondek some slack, people. As someone who has worked as a journalist, and comes from a family of journalists, i must say that printing slightly edited press releases for events that the newspaper is willing to show some support for, is something that is common practice.* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 14:12:54 Not even slightly-edited! Rewritten! Thanks, Mr. Rogan.* * * * * * * * * * * * addiann - 2005-02-22 14:20:28 I agree, Mr. Rogan. I have also worked as a journalist and now work on the other side, the performing arts side, which has some money for small ads but also depends heavily on preshow stories and/or publicity about their efforts. * * * * * * * * * * * * addiann - 2005-02-22 14:27:28 I also believe that it is incumbant upon the press to include the arts in their coverage of a community. All the arts.* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 14:39:04 Including... the martial arts? (Seriously, because we have an article coming up about the EMU kendo club at a recent tournament.) addiann and anyone - contact me, please, at the above address if you have anything that needs publicizing. We'll be happy to steal - er, do a story on you. The story may not be up to Hunter S. Thompson's standards, but, hey, any press is good press, right?* * * * * * * * * * * * raymond - 2005-02-22 14:43:41 Don't forget the Gathering of Artists at 301 North Park Street, Ypsi, Saturday the 26th at 8pm. Eats and drinks on premises, they say.* * * * * * * * * * * * Al Pugno - 2005-02-22 14:45:41 Complacencies of the peignoir, and late Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair, And the green freedom of a cockatoo Upon a rug mingle to dissipate The holy hush of ancient sacrifice. She dreams a little, and she feels the dark Encroachment of that old catastrophe, As a calm darkens among water-lights. The pungent oranges and bright, green wings Seem things in some procession of the dead, Winding across wide water, without sound. The day is like wide water, without sound. Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet Over the seas, to silent Palestine, Dominion of the blood and sepulchre. Why should she give her bounty to the dead? What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in dreams? Shall she not find in comforts of the sun, In pungent fruit and bright green wings, or else In any balm or beauty of the earth, Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven? Divinity must live within herself: Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow; Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued Elations when the forest blooms; gusty Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights; All pleasures and all pains, remembering The bough of summer and the winter branch. These are the measure destined for her soul. Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth. No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind. He moved among us, as a muttering king, Magnificent, would move among his hinds, Until our blood, commingling, virginal, With heaven, brought such requital to desire The very hinds discerned it, in a star. Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be The blood of paradise? And shall the earth Seem all of paradise that we shall know? The sky will be much friendlier then than now, A part of labor and a part of pain, And next in glory to enduring love, Not this dividing and indifferent blue. She says, "I am content when wakened birds, Before they fly, test the reality Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings; But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields Return no more, where, then, is paradise?" There is not any haunt of prophecy, Nor any old chimera of the grave, Neither the golden underground, nor isle Melodious, where spirits gat them home, Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured As April's green endures; or will endure Like her remembrance of awakened birds, Or her desire for June and evening, tipped By the consummation of the swallow's wings. She says, "But in contentment I still feel The need of some imperishable bliss." Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her, Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams And our desires. Although she strews the leaves Of sure obliteration on our paths, The path sick sorrow took, the many paths Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love Whispered a little out of tenderness, She makes the willow shiver in the sun For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet. She causes boys to pile new plums and pears On disregarded plate. The maidens taste And stray impassioned in the littering leaves. Is there no change of death in paradise? Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs Hang always heavy in that perfect sky, Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth, With rivers like our own that seek for seas They never find, the same receding shores That never touch with inarticulate pang? Why set pear upon those river-banks Or spice the shores with odors of the plum? Alas, that they should wear our colors there, The silken weavings of our afternoons, And pick the strings of our insipid lutes! Death is the mother of beauty, mystical, Within whose burning bosom we devise Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly. Supple and turbulent, a ring of men Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn Their boisterous devotion to the sun, Not as a god, but as a god might be, Naked among them, like a savage source. Their chant shall be a chant of paradise, Out of their blood, returning to the sky; And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice, The windy lake wherein their lord delights, The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills, That choir among themselves long afterward. They shall know well the heavenly fellowship Of men that perish and of summer morn. And whence they came and whither they shall go The dew upon their feel shall manifest. She hears, upon that water without sound, A voice that cries, "The tomb in Palestine Is not the porch of spirits lingering. It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay." We live in an old chaos of the sun, Or old dependency of day and night, Or island solitude, unsponsored, free, Of that wide water, inescapable. Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail Whistle about us their spontaneous cries; Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness; And, in the isolation of the sky, At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make Ambiguous undulations as they sink, Downward to darkness, on extended wings. * * * * * * * * * * * * addiann - 2005-02-22 14:47:12 yes, I'd also have to agree that "any press is good press". I doubt your editor will be interested in community theater in Lansing, but it was a nice offer. * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 14:47:16 Please allow me to re-format that for you as I see you intended, Al P.; one moment please....* * * * * * * * * * * * (Al Pugno) - 2005-02-22 14:54:30 Complacencies of the peignoir, and late Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair, And the green freedom of a cockatoo Upon a rug mingle to dissipate The holy hush of ancient sacrifice. She dreams a little, and she feels the dark Encroachment of that old catastrophe, As a calm darkens among water-lights. The pungent oranges and bright, green wings Seem things in some procession of the dead, Winding across wide water, without sound. The day is like wide water, without sound. Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet Over the seas, to silent Palestine, Dominion of the blood and sepulchre. Why should she give her bounty to the dead? What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in dreams? Shall she not find in comforts of the sun, In pungent fruit and bright green wings, or else In any balm or beauty of the earth, Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven? Divinity must live within herself: Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow; Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued Elations when the forest blooms; gusty Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights; All pleasures and all pains, remembering The bough of summer and the winter branch. These are the measure destined for her soul. Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth. No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind. He moved among us, as a muttering king, Magnificent, would move among his hinds, Until our blood, commingling, virginal, With heaven, brought such requital to desire The very hinds discerned it, in a star. Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be The blood of paradise? And shall the earth Seem all of paradise that we shall know? The sky will be much friendlier then than now, A part of labor and a part of pain, And next in glory to enduring love, Not this dividing and indifferent blue. She says, �I am content when wakened birds, Before they fly, test the reality Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings; But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields Return no more, where, then, is paradise?� There is not any haunt of prophecy, Nor any old chimera of the grave, Neither the golden underground, nor isle Melodious, where spirits gat them home, Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm Remote on heaven�s hill, that has endured As April�s green endures; or will endure Like her remembrance of awakened birds, Or her desire for June and evening, tipped By the consummation of the swallow�s wings. She says, �But in contentment I still feel The need of some imperishable bliss. Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her, Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams And our desires. Although she strews the leaves Of sure obliteration on our paths, The path sick sorrow took, the many paths Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love Whispered a little out of tenderness, She makes the willow shiver in the sun For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet. She causes boys to pile new plums and pears On disregarded plate. The maidens taste And stray impassioned in the littering leaves. Is there no change of death in paradise? Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs Hang always heavy in that perfect sky, Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth, With rivers like our own that seek for seas They never find, the same receding shores That never touch with inarticulate pang? Why set pear upon those river-banks Or spice the shores with odors of the plum? Alas, that they should wear our colors there, The silken weavings of our afternoons, And pick the strings of our insipid lutes! Death is the mother of beauty, mystical, Within whose burning bosom we devise Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly. Supple and turbulent, a ring of men Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn Their boisterous devotion to the sun, Not as a god, but as a god might be, Naked among them, like a savage source. Their chant shall be a chant of paradise, Out of their blood, returning to the sky; And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice, The windy lake wherein their lord delights, The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills, That choir among themselves long afterward. They shall know well the heavenly fellowship Of men that perish and of summer morn. And whence they came and whither they shall go The dew upon their feel shall manifest. She hears, upon that water without sound, A voice that cries, �The tomb in Palestine Is not the porch of spirits lingering. It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay.� We live in an old chaos of the sun, Or old dependency of day and night, Or island solitude, unsponsored, free, Of that wide water, inescapable. Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail Whistle about us their spontaneous cries; Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness; And, in the isolation of the sky, At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make Ambiguous undulations as they sink, Downward to darkness, on extended wings. * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 14:58:01 Very beautiful, Al Pugno. Thank you. Ypsidixit's favorite Stevens's poem.* * * * * * * * * * * * addiann - 2005-02-22 14:58:48 yes, it is beautiful* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 15:02:18 The ending is particularly fine; one can see the dark wings spiraling down, fading into the inky dusk.* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 15:06:10 Gathering of artists? Anyone got contact info?* * * * * * * * * * * * ap - 2005-02-22 15:06:14 I just wish I could fish as good as LF* * * * * * * * * * * * Ypsi dweller - 2005-02-22 15:07:18 I couldn't find anything about it in the Courier this week.* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 15:12:47 Find what, dweller? Here's my Stevens entry: http://eir.library.utoronto.ca/rpo/display/poem2014.html* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 15:15:29 World peace through Wallace Stevens?* * * * * * * * * * * * Emperor of ice-cream - 2005-02-22 15:17:08 Whirled peas thru Ypsitucky* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 15:19:28 Charlie, may I ask, what makes that your favorite one? I tend to prefer his less abstract, more visual poems ("jar" "13 ways"). Just wondering. * * * * * * * * * * * * yd - 2005-02-22 15:23:55 I hope there is a fresh copy of the paper at the dam today. Saves money.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 15:28:22 YD, people fell for your poem hook, line, and sinker. Ypsidixit's favorite fish poem.* * * * * * * * * * * * Sibyl - 2005-02-22 15:30:09 I think you mean Al P's poem.* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 15:31:45 Actually, my favorite poem of Stevens' is "13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird." I just thought "High Toned Old Christian Woman" was appropo for the discussion, since it showed two sides abutting. Does this mean we're not arguing about how the Courier is the Emperor and I its Darth Vader anymore?* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 15:36:28 I do, Sibyl. Typo. My apologies. I'm well aware that it's Al Pugno who's the Wallace Stevens maestro around here. 13 Ways was revolutionary in its day as you know Charlie and I'd say it might have spawned more dreadful imitations than any other poem in existance ("13 Ways of Looking at a Stopped-Up Toilet"; "13 Ways of Looking at Me"; "13 Ways of...[whatever]." I still like 13 Ways, though. When you read it it makes you feel quiet and still as the snow in the poem, and vaguely forlorn like the crow hunched in the trees. Tell me about some other favorite poems please.* * * * * * * * * * * * Robert Francais - 2005-02-22 15:40:36 Ces bois sont beaux, si sombres et profonds, Mais j'ai mes promesses a tenir. Et des lieues a faire avant de dormir, des lieues a faire avant de dormir.* * * * * * * * * * * * Charlie Kondek - 2005-02-22 15:41:37 Um... bloggers are weird! I mean that in a nice way.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 15:44:40 It's taken in a nice, and not a frosty, way. * * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 15:55:39 Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand; Ah, gorgeous, that deathless poem, one of my all time favorites. Thank you Dan Arbor. Is this your absolute favorite? A bit spooky how the threat in the desert has its modern-day analogues.* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 15:59:49 It's hard to narrow it down to one favorite, but this is definitely a contender. And, oh so timely...* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 16:01:50 I also like this last passage from Under Ben Bulben:
Under bare Ben Bulben's head Cast a cold eye On life, on death. Horseman, pass by!* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 16:02:06Arguably never was the dire crumbling of the world described as powerfully and beautifully and awe-fully as in this poem. May I ask, what are some other contenders?* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 16:02:37 Under bare Ben Bulben's head In Drumcliff churchyard Yeats is laid. An ancestor was rector there Long years ago, a church stands near, By the road an ancient cross. No marble, no conventional phrase; On limestone quarried near the spot By his command these words are cut:
Cast a cold eye Oops, you beat me to the comments, sorry, I was previously referring to "turning."* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 16:03:34 Sorry, I guess it sent before formatting was complete...* * * * * * * * * * * * Jimbo - 2005-02-22 16:04:17 There once was a man from old Mass. Whose testicles were made out of brass. He banged them together, to play stormy weather, and lightning shot out of his...oh well.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 16:06:11 Dan: That's fine, no worries. Thank you for the "Ben" poem as well. I dimly remember that one but haven't read it in years. Nice to see it again. Rather a grim little motto to put on your tombstone, I have to say.* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 16:09:21 Yeah, his inscription threw people for a loop. It is, to use his term, a cold little epitaph...* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 16:10:24 Though a bit more memorable than "Horseman, sit down here a while and have a sandwich."* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 16:14:30 I guess I'd never known or had forgotten long ago that that was Yeats' epitaph. Very interesting to learn that. A powerful if bleak epitaph. Thanks Dan.* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 16:18:54 Okay, this is another of my faves. This is by Hayden Carruth, a cranky Vermonter. REGARDING CHAINSAWS
The first chainsaw I owned years ago Sorry it's so long, but I really like it...* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 16:25:20 Wow. I'm speechless. What a splintery jewel of a poem. Beautiful, in a plaid-flannel, greasy-sawtooth, frozen-ground, flinty-eyed, wry, sassy way--I love it. Thank you, Dan Arbor. Marvelous.* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 16:30:26 Thanks, I'm glad you like it. This is, for me, one of the top five of all time...* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 16:41:16 That poem has so many chewy, meaty turns of phrase. I just read it again. It's not about saws. I love it. Thanks, Dan.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 16:49:27 Try to Praise the Mutilated World Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June�s long days, And wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew. The nettles that methodically overgrow The abandoned homesteads of exiles. You must praise the mutilated world. You watched the stylish yachts and ships; One of them had a long trip ahead of it, While salty oblivion awaited others. You�ve seen the refugees heading nowhere, You�ve heard the executioners sing joyfully. You should praise the mutilated world. Remember the moments when we were together In a white room and the curtain fluttered. Return in thought of the concert where music flared. You gathered acorns in the park in autumn And leaves eddied over the earth�s scars. Praise the mutilated world And the gray feather a thrush lost, And the gentle light that strays and vanishes And returns. --Adam Zagajewski (Translated from the Polish by Clare Cavanagh).* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 16:55:47 Wow! That's great! Such imagery!* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 16:58:10 There is such an echoey, vast depth of sadness and futility and grief in this poem. Then there's that last word. * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 17:00:10 It is a poem that brought tears to my eyes the first time I read it. One of those poems that implants itself like a pebble in one's heart.* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 17:07:15 I'm still forming words...* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 17:10:02 I will think of this one on the way home...Thanks for posting it. * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 17:11:11 You are most welcome. I'm still thinking about your saw-poem, so thank you, too.* * * * * * * * * * * * Anna - 2005-02-22 18:44:03 You both simply have to read the _The Kite Runner_ -- it's a novel that reads like poetry from beginning to end.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 18:58:34 Funny you mention that...I gave that book to my Mom for Christmas. I'll have to borrow it from her. It got outstanding reviews. If I remember correctly it's the story of a boy growing up in Afghanistan, is that correct? I wonder if any blog has its own book club.* * * * * * * * * * * * Anna - 2005-02-22 19:59:38 It is about a boy growing up in Afghanistan... it's heartbreaking and gorgeously-written. You are made of stone if you don't cry at least three times. * * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-22 21:56:29 You know, someone else recommended that book to me just last week. And this is a person whose taste in literature I trust implicitly. I will pick it up. Thanks, Anna. I, in turn, must recommend The Death of Vishnu by Manil Suri, one of the finest novels I've read all year. A book club sounds like fun, but if that doesn't happen, I'm still more than willing to share fave books here. Talking about books and music is one of my favorite activities...* * * * * * * * * * * * addiann - 2005-02-22 23:11:59me too........ I'm currently reading "Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell", a fun novel spoof of academia which also happens to be a fascinating dissertation about magic accompanied by a lovely story. (And making a note about "The Kite Runner".) * * * * * * * * * * * * addiann - 2005-02-22 23:14:14 "The Death of Vishnu" is quite wonderful.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-22 23:36:47 I also love talking about books, to no end. Dan, may I ask, what is The Death of Vishnu about? Addiann, if you like spoofs of academia, I wonder if you've read James Hynes's Publish and Perish. As for me, I am a tad abashed to be among such readerly folk. Tonight I was working on A Complete Guide to Heraldry in whose pages I learned the difference between a lion rampant (leaping, left rear paw on ground) passant (walking by) statant (standing, front paws together) couchant (lying down), and so forth. Saw cockatrices and wyverns. Learned the origin of the word "gentleman." Interesting stuff. * * * * * * * * * * * * addiann - 2005-02-22 23:47:20 that's so much more scholarly than my reading - I like really good novels, fun, intelligent writing, interesting characterization. Heraldry I would look at if I had to do research for a play. Maybe. Probably I would punt with some great imagery. * * * * * * * * * * * * addiann - 2005-02-22 23:51:59 so what is the origin of the word "gentleman"?* * * * * * * * * * * * Dan Arbor - 2005-02-23 00:02:50 "Description: Vishnu, the odd-job man in a Bombay apartment block, lies dying on the staircase landing: Around him the lives of the apartment dwellers unfold: the warring housewives on the first floor, lovesick teenagers on the second, and the widower, alone and quietly grieving on the top floor of the building. In a fevered state Vishnu looks back on his love affair with the seductive Padmim and wonders if he might actually be the god Vishnu, guardian of the entire universe. "Blending incisive comedy with Hindu mythology and a dash of Bollywood sparkle, The Death of Vishnu is an intimate and compelling view of an unforgettable world."
I read the Hynes book. It was fun. Signing off... * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-23 00:22:41Addiann, the book is scholarly, but I'm afraid my approach is not--picture an elaborately-set table with some dirt-spattered biker type snitching hors d'oeuvres and sneaking a glass of wine--I just dip in here and there, concentrating on the many wonderful pictures. The origin of the word "gentleman": [Re: English feudal society:] "Every man who held land...was of the upper class. He was nobilis or known, and of a rank distinct, apart, and absolutely separate from the remainder of the population, who were at one time actually serfs, and for long enough afterwards, of no higher social position than they had enjoyed in their period of servitude. "The wide distinction between the upper and lower classes, which existed from one end of Europe to the other, was the very root and foundation of armory [heraldry]. It cannot be too greatly insisted upon. There were two qualitative terms, "gentle," and "simple," which were applied to the upper and lower classes respectively. Though now becoming archaic and obsolete, the terms "gentle" and "simple" are still occasionally to be met with and used in that original sense; and the two adjectives "gentle" and "simple" in the everyday meanings of the words, are derived from, and are a later growth from the original usage with the meaning of the upper and lower classes; because the quality of being gentle was supposed to exist in that class of life referred to as gentle, whilst the quality of simplicity was supposed to be an attribute of the lower class. "The word gentle is derived from the Latin gens (gentilis), meaning a man, because those were men who were not serfs. Serfs and slaves were nothing accounted of. The word "gentleman" is a derivative of the word gentle, and a gentleman was a member of the gentle or upper class, and gentle qualities were so termed because they were the qualities supposed to belong to the the gentle class... "To all intents and purposes at that date there was no middle class at all... "The preposterous prostitution of the word gentleman in these latter days is due to the almost universal attribute of human nature which declines to admit itself as of other than gentle rank; and in the eager desire to write itself gentleman, it has deliberately accepted and ordained a meaning to the word which it did not formerly possess" [one can sense the author is getting nettled at this point...] There you have it. * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-23 00:30:05 Dan: that sounds very intriguing. The Bollywood aesthetic seems to be slowly filtering into this culture's mainstream: as witness the new movie Bride and Prejudice, a Bollywood treatment of the Austen novel. Yes, Hynes's The Lecturer's Tale was great fun, too.* * * * * * * * * * * * Andy - 2005-02-23 02:13:14 "The Voice of the Power of This World" by Gregory Hall 1977 As darkness is my shelter I shall not want. It leads me deep into the bones of men. As darkness is my shelter I find the knees of my mother Among the stairways of stars, My father's forehead Among the blind sisters who sing Behind the sunset. I find my eyes In the dim Thigh of the dew And I fall among shadows forever. Weightless as the dying moth And the dusk leads me Into the eye of the owl, My poems bright rats Sliding in the rivers of wet grass. I love the snakes who hunt at night Awakened by the cooling earth And who emerge, Slick genital faces From the dark mouth * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-23 09:50:34 oops, pleast let me reformat that, Andy...* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-23 09:58:53 The Voice of the Power of This World by Gregory Hall 1977 As darkness is my shelter I shall not want. It leads me deep into the bones of men. As darkness is my shelter I find the knees of my mother Among the stairways of stars, My father�s forehead Among the blind sisters who sing Behind the sunset. I find my eyes In the dim Thigh of the dew And I fall among shadows forever. Weightless as the dying moth And the dusk leads me Into the eye of the owl, My poems bright rats Sliding in the rivers of wet grass. I love the snakes who hunt at night Awakened by the cooling earth And who emerge, Slick genital faces From the dark mouth * * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-23 10:01:06 That is incantatory and imagistic. Very nice; I had not read it before. For some dumb reason I'm thinking it would make a good movie trailer. You know, because there is this sequence of striking images...the sliding rats, the zoom lens going into the owl's eye. At any rate, thank you, Andy.* * * * * * * * * * * * Scott - 2005-02-23 19:48:21 I still think Charlie represents everything thats wrong with journalism. The "thats how everyone else does it" attitude is indicative of our entire society. Thank you, your "job" of paraphrasing is beneath the class and respect that Laura portrays here. I believe that she doesn't "pitch in" beacuse she has some diginity than to sell out to some bored editor on a power trip.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-23 21:09:18 Thank you Scott. As always your comment says as much about your own character as about the topic.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-24 18:06:50 I mean that in a positive way of course. :)* * * * * * * * * * * * Ingrid - 2005-02-24 21:04:03 Back to Eric's comment about having to cancel the subscription, I might note that we did so two weeks ago, yet the Courier keeps arriving week after week.* * * * * * * * * * * * Laura - 2005-02-24 22:20:39 Now, that is odd. So was the Courier-dumping in Peninsular Park. Ingrid, would you please kindly keep me updated on that? I'd appreciate it. * * * * * * * * * * * * add your comment: |