Friday, December 7, 2012

Errors in Recognizing the Surroundings Are Paralleled by Misjudgments of Time and Trouble


Maybe it's surrender, I said at Thursday Night Pints, asked by K why the retirements and extended vacations in my stringtown of Blegsylvania. Where last week's surprise TNP was joyous throughout, last night started sullen, yes warm, yes welcome, but sullen as a rerun. Jeb Fucking Bush, said D, Hillary Fucking Clinton, said L, Terry Fucking McAuliffe, I said, versus Kenasshole Cuccinelli, more lesser-evilism spinach for professional progressive Popeyes. Hahaha. Jesusshit, no wonder people are quitting, said L. Then, suddenly, happier. K said she would have held out but Whatshisname really wanted to know the gender of the child, may I suggest Jeffrina for your daughter's name, I am so happy she and you are so healthy.


Keith Waldrop

As the wave reaches the church, it
separates right and left and the edifice
is embraced. Confabulation fills the gap.

Still, the shadow-sound is only partial. Errors
in recognizing the surroundings are
paralleled by misjudgments of time and trouble.

The pulse advances, squeezes the particles to-
gether. Meaningless patterns distorted,
so as to make them look familiar.

When a long sea roller meets an isolated
rock in its passage, it rises against the rock,
clasps it all around. Past events, pushed.


  1. Hahaha!! Washington Post paywall. Hahaha!

    That's right, beaches. PAY for your corporate dreck!

  2. Quite a relentless savaging of FZ by Penman, there.

    While I'm not a Zappa fanboy, musically speaking (having the opinion that FZ as composer/auteur never fully transcended his influences - unlike, say, Beefheart or Ayler - prior to jettisoning his original support network, and was unwilling and/or incapable of doing so afterwards in a less challenging artistic environment), I do appreciate that there weren't a whole lot of peers to compare FZ to in the active decades of his career...thus a personal synthesis of some unique type must have occurred.

    The written effect Penman creates, ironically, doesn't seem dissimilar from that context of sustained negativity that he accuses Zappa of. Hmmm, fire - meet fire. Now fight!


  3. The link was for a friend who has the visceral hatred of Zappa like I do for The Fucking Doors. As for the irony of Penman's methodology, I've always studied whoever I viscerally hate to help me understand (and address to mixed results) what I hate about myself.

  4. Well, nothing says friendship like sharing visceral hatred for the holidays, I say. Something to bring us all together under the windswept skies of love, warmed by shared antipathy.


  5. What I found so amusing about the Penman piece was the visceral hatred. He was going to listen to more stuff he despises so he can find more stuff to rant about. OK. That's like a restaurant critic going back to the Taco Bell and working his way through the Dollar Value menu after his first few trips to the Taco Bell gave him the runs. I can picture the Penman piece in The Onion under the headline "Music Critic Tells Us What He Really Thinks About Frank Zappa".

  6. I usually just skip digging through visceral hatreds in order to spin some more Sabbath. I already know most of me is egads, so I choose to listen to walls of sound hold the Taco Bell.