Archive of October 2008

Wed 15 Oct

Blaming Poverty on the Poor


Give us your deprived, your malleable muddled masses 
hoping for a gentler taskmaster 
Welcome to the multi-trillion dollar industry, Poverty 
A.K.A, cheapest labor force 

Poverty works, never ever unemployed 
A much needed commodity to justify 
White-collar crime classes 
Teaching dastardly deeds—to procure monetary needs- 
fostering avarice greed 

Give us your deprived, your malleable muddled masses 
hoping for a gentler taskmaster 
Welcome to the multi-trillion dollar industry, Poverty 
A.K.A., cheapest labor force 

Poverty creates jobs for those financing the societal 
Institution of ya godda pay more taxes 
Blaming Poverty on the poor 
Look! what Enron did to those less fortunate 
Blaming Poverty on the poor 

Did not corporations want a billion dollar welfare check 
Blaming Poverty on the poor 
Blaming Poverty on the poor 

Give us your deprived, your malleable muddled masses 
hoping for a gentler taskmaster 
Welcome to the multi-trillion dollar industry, Poverty 
A.K.A., cheapest labor force 

No penance just punishment augmenting the pillar of economic pillaging 
Poor people put in the pillory from the political pulpit 

Poverty is prime property 
Poverty pimps portrayed as political preachers purely punitive but polite 
The pluralization of Poverty provides prestige of the patricians 

Poverty, the promissory note from the bureaucratic infidel 
The Truth will tell—the truth will tell 
Poverty the patriotic prisoner on trial for treason 

Copyright 2001 
Josephine DixonBanks 

Fri 10 Oct

Fiction Friday post

I was just notified of something called "Fiction Friday" via my Write Anything feed.  So I thought I would spare five or ten minutes and see what I came up with to participate.  The results are below, and I have abided by the rules they are just as I wrote them.  I'll reread it sometime when and if I get any comments.

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Wed 8 Oct

Thoughts on being

Why the quotes, you may ask?  Well, I have been thinking that writing a blog is a little similar to zero-cost vanity pubishing.  A large part of the impetus for me to start blogging came from a desire to have some sort of motivation for me to write.  I plan to participate in NaNoWriMo and am hoping that after November I shall continue to write.  One of my poems (albeit a piece of doggerel) has already appeared in my blog.  I have addd a number of links to writers resources to my links page and several on my blogroll are there in connection with writing.

But despite all of that my feelings about being published are ambivalent and contradictory. I will openly admit that I pretty much detest J.K. Rowling.  She and Jodi Piccoult might make good examples to typify publication that I feel sense of dismay rather than any cause for celebration.  I do not see them as role model authors, though many would (presumably their agents especially!).  J.M. Coetze, Joseph Heller, the late Kurt Vonnegut, and even Hemmingway and the like - these I hold in high regard.  But they did not shy away from publication.  Perhaps it is a luxury and a vanity to shun publication?  Perhaps I have some weird snobbery going on?

If I dig further back I hold as examples of greatness Swift, Shakespeare, and Goethe. Shakespeares primary medium was the play and for a play to be properly appreciated it must be performed.  For it to be performed publication is more or less required, though I am sure there are plenty of examples of plays being performed and passed on from word of mouth, but is that not a form of oral publication?  Swifts primary mediums were essays and books, and he has a much sharper political and journalistic mind, but there is no doubt he was a brilliant writer. I do not have any particularly negative figures in the past, perhaps they did not stand the test of time?  Will JK Rowling be remembered as more than a footnote in literature come 2200?  Only time shall tell and neither you nor I will ever know.

But thinking on these examples gives me some clue, and actually modifies my feelings about publication.  I recently attended a library visit by a recently published author.  She talked of her experience of the writing process.  Asides from a few cliches which she glossed over like "writing about what you know" I was rather engaged by her description of the process she experience - how she would always dedicate fixed time and attempt to engage in conversations with the characters in her novel, how she felt when she found herself dreaming of the characters, certain motifs and activities, such as the clothes and cooking in the book.  Overall it was a vivid description of not just creating and not especially crafting the book, but rather of animating, of bringing to life.  So surely a books life is incomplete if it belongs only to the author? Surely that is a little like Schroedingers cat and how can one know there is a novel in there or not?  Does not a piece of writing exist only in the mind, and is not the art of it for the writer to have something in their mind and then create something in the minds of the readers?

So perhaps publication is a "necessary evil"?  At least that's my thinking at the moment, that I need to overcome my scruples/foibles/reservations and embrace the possibility of publication wholeheartedly.  After all the prospect is quite likely a remote one.  And a pen name is always a possibility.... I think on making this post it becomes apparent that it is not the actual publication that bothers me, and hopefully not the associated criticism, I think it is the fear of being popular and populist.  I want my writing to transcend that.  But I do not want it to be especially exclusive.  Were I gifted enough, disciplined enough, and dedicated enough with a real talent then I would aspire towards being a poet perhaps, and I believe poetry lives more in the recitation that on the page.  I believe we all have to recite a poem as we read it to grasp it.  I enjoy poetry enough when it is done well to know that my talents in that regard are very limited and I am easily daunted by the prospect of attempting to produce something I feel deserves to be published.

I hope I shall not develop similar feelings about whatever writing I produce from NaNoWriMo.  We shall see.

Sat 4 Oct

Posting from a Library...

Right now I am in Castle Carey for the Childrens carnival later today. I shall try to get pictures onto my phone for later… it could be quite visually pleasing if the rain keeps off! This goes to show the blog addiction has hit hard, even though this offers a lovely quiet respite from the inevitable family drama as a bonus! I brought my laptop, but to hope for wireless access was expecting too much (it is pretty much a small rural town).

Anyway, with the country air I arose early. My father is quite the eccentric (you can see him and some of his poems from the "about me" link if you click on far enough and he has been moved to more traditional housing than his old beach hut on wheels!). So in his new abode he insists that visitors leave something in a Visitors Book provided for the purpose.

Arising early I found this book and the muse struck. Occasionally I may feature a poem in my Blog. BUT I am determined that it should not become exclusively a poetry nor exclusively a writing blog… So they will be tagged and archived in a manner of my choosing from time to time….

If there is no poem in this post it has obviously been done…. Likely gone on to a better place… But for the moment you will find it below:-


Never love a poet
To love one is absurd
A poets love entirely
Being given to the word

Bad poets write of love
A moral for my daughter
Good poets love themselves
Like a fish loves water

The didactic part comes now
Not of love and not of poet
Of happiness and loving life
The poetry's in how you show it!

PAW 4/10/2008

Feeling bashful now - sigh.

As I say - you may have noticed a previous post that has now self-destucted, well think of that poem as being written in an ink that fades very fast, because it too will join collected and selected ephemera in the ether at a future time. Of course copies may have been taken, but I don't want to think about that… I'm weird and shy that way.

I am quite happy to blog and reveal my identity within the blog, but when it comes to publication in any traditional sense I would prefer a "nom de plume". If anyone cares to suggest suitable pen names in comments - that could be fun, perhaps. But please, no Tadalafil based etymology or themes! Oh I just thought, I really need to avoid mentioning the C word, V word or any other pharmacopoeia or else the spiders are going to mark me down down down!

I notice now that being in the library with a timer on my connection really focusses the mind! Perhaps I need to start introducing a fake similar system at home? No question of idling off away to tweaking little corners of the site or googling weird wikipedian linkage chains. Speaking of which I have turned on a Wiki markup (you'll find an example on the ABOUT DIDACTIC link for the word didactic). I've tried to make one on this post too (in the previous paragraph, for Tadalafil), but the internet and browser setup here may make this tricksome.

My next poem was intended to be titled "Ethereal Ephemera", but the muse does not respect my future titles and plans. So there we are. Or here we are.

I can certainly feel the chill of the new season with October, added to the chill of the countryside away from the city heat. The children taking part in the carnival should be fine however - the theme is "Teddy Bears Picnic" and they are all wearing furry outfits… This time the great family drama (there is ALWAYS one) was brewing about the "float" trolley upon which my great niece Jessica (13 months) is due to perch… Anyway, my father has become the grumpiest bear in town with the sorest head…. and now refuses to push the trolley or even lend them his drill to finish the work!!

Sigh - and now I have to proof read, correct, and return to the melée!

Thank goodness I can return to domestic blogging come Sunday night, only 30 hours of this to go!