Ayla. We've had a nice little run. It began in Wells. It will not end.

So this poem reminded me of Waltzing Matilda.

It's the work of a great writer. No.

Both are works of very good writers. 

Waltzing Matilda is eternal.

This poem is eternal, kind of. 

It is not the work of a poet,

it is the work of a guy who rhymes.

It is the work of a guy who has a good sense

for the sounds of the words.

It is not the work of a poet. 

But it is a very good work. 

Read it all here. 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43187/the-highwayman

we are all illicit

IN VOLUNTARY SEGREGATION 

All my overreactions

are reactions

against the age of overreaction.

I trickster,

I ballast,

I manifest.

I seek to say the unsayable,

like ‘palimpsest.’

Why even allow a word like that?

All my overreactions are reactions

against the age of overreaction.

I trickster,

I manifest.

In lieu of saying the unsayable,

I ‘F’ the ineffable, am left,

to contemplate the curse of ‘Jeff’.

Jeff!

Jeff as a first name.

Jeff? Say it until the curse is yours

to understand. Jeff.

All my overreactions are reactions against the age of overreaction.

I seek this solitude to nourish

the insanity. I master

the act of self-neglect, I perfect

the art of placing forward nothing

but the worst of all possible feet, overreacting,

ad infinituum,

in hope of counteracting

the age of overreaction.

In ballast,

in painful and all-too finite

jest, i know

i go profane in the wee hours,

the wine bottle

on the floor beside my foot,

my worst possible foot.

the images of the consequences

revolt me.

Let’s talk revolution.

Unfortunately I do not have great confidence in your ability to bear one thing in mind as you listen to this podcast. It is a call for awareness but I don't think you will recognize this. 

A pandemic has just been used to both dethrone Trump and sell drugs. Someone I just spoke to pointed out to me that" the vaccine is the biggest piece of commerce in the history of the planet." 

The narrative in the media today is that of triumph. A fresh start for America. This is anything but. The establishment - and in my opinion it is an evil one, one that habitually drops bombs far away villages wherever it thinks it can make a buck- has won back control. 

I don't think you will be able to remain neutral. I suspect that you are one of the almost everyone I know who has bought into the brilliant narrative the mainstream media, bought out by the drug companies, has crafted around outgoing President Donald Trump. 

Here I speak of how that, to me, seems to have happened. If you were someone like Jake Tapper of CNN you would condemn what I say before hearing it and childishly try to make me seem pro-Trump. 

This is not a pro Trump piece. It is again a call to ask you to pay attention to the workings of media, the power of advertisers, and the way narratives are constructed. 

That is what has happened here. 

Full disclosure: my heart was with Bernie Sanders. I know he got railroaded, by the people who are paying CNN to say what they are saying and to cover news that way. Follow the money. Look at the people who are paying the salaries of the talking heads at CNN.  It's not just CNN, but the same people who are paying CNN to say what they say, are paying other outlets too. 

Joe Biden won the Democratic primaries because of some brilliant political manueuvriung. Bernie entered the race as the huge favourite, so what camp Biden did was position a bunch of decoy candidates (Klobuchar, Buttegig,  Mini Mike,  some other ones) as actual candidates in order to split the voters preferences. Some people naturally gravitated away from Bernie to these other candidates, enough so that when they all followed the plan, dropped out of the race all at the same time and threw their support behind Biden, it was enough to dilute Bernie's momentum. 

If, as Trump correctly pointed out at the time, Elizabeth Warren would have dropped out and supported her ideological counterpart, Bernie Sanders, America might really have cause to celebrate today. So would I. 

This is the prologue to the introduction to work of Jeremy Stewart, at least in some sense. In essence, or essentially. 

Links to some of the referenced shite: 

Jeremy's poem 'bugs groucho I: self-portrait with greasepaint eyebrows & moustache': 

https://bnw-mag.blogspot.com/2020/03/jeremy-stewart-bugs-groucho-1-5.html

JW Dunne's curious Experiment with Time:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/An_Experiment_with_Time

Singing Jeremy Stewart to my dog in her last days, I

reel at the thought of reels, I

go dizzy with Vertov, I, Kino I, 

realize or strive to realize 

both Self (mine)

 and selflessness. 

I read from TREEPLANTERLAND's vital thesis,

reveal one small scene from Absentia.

I imagine a film called Colonizers,

Then imagine that film a porn.

No no no hyphens necessary 

when you're here alone here all alone. 

Alone, here 

in Absentia. 

k

So, I should state that I have taken to messaging Bonnie Allen, who, as far as I know, receives money from the  CBC in Regina, Saskatchewan. 

One of the nice things about cancel culture is that once you are cancelled, once you have been prohibited from contributing anything positive to society by people who claim to only want positive contributions to society.... once these people forbid you from doing any good in the world, like, say, writing a poem, once they forbid you from even accessing gainful employment, all you have left is yourself...

and then the miracle.... well it is all miracle, always miracle for all of us, always miracle, always miracle unfolding ... 

 once you no longer strive for gain, some kind of healing occurs. You can be yourself, because you have to be yourself, all you have is yourself (and 'your' dog, I guess)

so i do have access to some private correspondence of both Bonnie Allen and Stephanie Taylor, the latter of the two claims to write for the Canadian Press. 

I can say that Bonnie Allen is a decent, thoughtful person. Stephanie Taylor, hmmm still don't know about that one. 

I like the dialogue that can take place in the Global Village. At last, as McLuhan stated, the "centre is nowhere the margins are everywhere".

Technology has enabled me to have a voice. One, albeit, that no one listens to. But I will keep voicing.

Not to write any wrong, perhaps, or perhaps... no... i give this voice to the world in the hope that I can heal myself. 

Thank you for listening. I'm sure you haven't. 

In this episode, as you learn how to make a delicious pot of cha in the tradition of the Punjab, you will learn of some of the spectral forces that accompany my scholarship. 

The ramblings herein meander from Prince George, BC to The Nordheim Ravine, which is connected to Toronto's Winston Churchill Boulevard. 

All of the above are Supernatural Lanscapes. This episode specifically details how the ghosts of Ernest Hemingway and Marshall McLuhan can still be encountered in The Nordheim Ravine,  how I found them and they found my beautiful Lady Castro and me.

The mansion in the photograph attached to this episode is where Ernest Hemingway lived for a couple years as a young man. I took the photograph, standing at the bottom of the barranca. 

SPOILER ALERT: A link to the documentary Marshall McLuhan shot in this ravine - a documentary that ultimately may have been responsible for saving the ravine - can be found below. 

I posted this link originally, by the way. It was the first time the film was made available in digital format. The academic geek in me considers this a minor, very minor but not insignificant contribution  to the growing field of McLuhan scholarship. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDzkjL7r5zg