Wednesday, September 5, 2012

nor dingsters die at break of dong

John Cage born one hundred years ago today. It's not love - I admire and acknowledge his importance without adoring the music. When I think of Cage I think of E.E. Cummings, whose importance I admire and acknowledge without adoring the poetry. It's hard now to remember how innovative Cage's music and Cummings poetry were once, perhaps the highest testimony to their influence. It is on me that both now feel old. The above was suggested by Abonilox, thanks.

Monday night, driving home from dinner with Earthgirl and Hamster, we were talking about music, I said, the only thing I want to hear these days is music I've never heard before - I need to apply that to novels, too, yo, suggestions solicited. Good buddy Paleo Jay Arra Old Dirty Bama 101 commented at yesterday's post: It is becoming very sucky that we seem to converge. I need newness, yet we are mostly the same. We read the same things. We don't listen to the same things because I don't really listen anymore...I avoid reading, because it depresses me...except for blogs that I read everyday and I play video games that let my id blow the shit out of people and et cetera ad nauseum. Please help and/or advise. Speaking of serendipity, after yesterday's poem entitled Rondo this headline in The Guardian. Pursuing the serendipity (the best and only advice I have is to pursue serendipity), a twooter friend tweeted something with three names all with Ks in them will flashed me to Killdozer, a good thing and, serendipitously, just who I needed to listen to.

[as freedom is a breakfastfood]

E.E. Cummings

as freedom is a breakfastfood
or truth can live with right and wrong
or molehills are from mountains made
—long enough and just so long
will being pay the rent of seem
and genius please the talentgang
and water most encourage flame

as hatracks into peachtrees grow
or hopes dance best on bald men’s hair
and every finger is a toe
and any courage is a fear
—long enough and just so long
will the impure think all things pure
and hornets wail by children stung

or as the seeing are the blind
and robins never welcome spring
nor flatfolk prove their world is round
nor dingsters die at break of dong
and common’s rare and millstones float
—long enough and just so long
tomorrow will not be too late

worms are the words but joy’s the voice
down shall go which and up come who
breasts will be breasts thighs will be thighs
deeds cannot dream what dreams can do
—time is a tree(this life one leaf)
but love is the sky and i am for you
just so long and long enough


  1. Human Wishes/Enemy Combatant by Edmond Caldwell. It will blow your mind, darling. You'll be quoting from it for years to come.

    Also, on The Chagall Position Edmond wrote about David Rose's anti-novel The Vault. That's high on my list.

    And Jacob Wren's Revenge Fantasies of the Politically Dispossessed.

    And you didn't read my novel Cooperative Village because...?

  2. I can't remember where I put it. Looked for it a month ago, wasn't where I thought I left it. Fine metaphors abound. Will look again this weekend (unless I'm on a Planet mission to take her to Mt Vernon Loews to buy supplies for her sculpture class).

  3. KNUCKLES!!!

    Set speakers to eleventy, Mr. Sulu.

    P.S. I love this live version the best.)

  4. Link thanks!
    No playoffs for everyone!
    Everyone get a job!
    Exclamation point!

  5. Then I'll allow myself one smack per day. Today's is from tbogg who says "Voting for a third party and hoping that Obama is defeated because you think that it will result is The Great Progressive Awakening is like hoping you get cancer because you’d like to lose a few pounds."

  6. Heh, there are few things you can do to convince me more of the correctness of my apostasies than quote fuckbogg at me.

  7. Self-satire is the best satire. Especially when it draws on such a remarkable wellspring of self-awareness.

    I learned that from Databoy.

  8. Yay, Please let me know me if you cannot find it and I'll happily send you another one. You're a very important reader to me.

  9. Found it last night. As I suspected, it got shuffled during the summer by others looking for something they never found. First a Lispector, then finish Vollmann, then yours.

  10. ...who said anything about voting?