Friday, October 7, 2011

Labels and Options


I read some poems this morning by the Nobel winning poet heretofore unknown to me.  Surely much is lost in translation.  He is Swedish.  He beat out Dylan.  Bob.  Nothing, I think, is lost in translation there.  Imagine Dylan with a Nobel under his belt.  But, as they say, surely that way lies madness.

The rhetoric of the Wall Street protesters is entering the public arena.  It will stay, I think.  I hope.  It will be in the ears of Americans.  Eventually, it will come out of their mouths.  People are parrots, you know.  They've been parroting the rhetoric that began when Lee Iococca was made an icon.  It has been hideous.  I am sick of it.

I will join the protests somewhere.  They are coming to a town near you soon.  I hope you will, too.

Enough of that kind of talk.  This is not a political blog.  We try not to be careful or correct here.  Don't make me use the leeches.

I'm just saying.

As I write this, I notice for the first time out of the corner of my right eye a column on the template.  Two words stick out--Labels and Options.  I wonder how much that has unconsciously influenced what I've written here.

Last night, leaving the grocery store, I realized that I never get on the giant calibrated scale that sits by the exit any more.  For most of my life, I have.  Funny that.  I will try to make a list of "Things I Used to Do."


You know what they say.  Eat the Greedy.  

4 comments:

  1. hey -- me too. that is read some translations. i read the one that ended with the samuari and the dragon. it seemed so -- flat or something.

    my son has been involved in two things going on in boston -- city life protest and occupy boston. his quote about occupy boston was "brought some extra food down from the cafe to occupy boston. pretty organized, tent city with boards down to prevent mud -- listened to a meeting using human mic and all the committees. just too high white people ratio -- unlike city life protest"

    i was really angry - i was listening to the local boston sports radio station the other morning ( i kno i now but it is football season) and they were talking about Steve Jobs and one of them said "i bet Jobs never thought of sinking to the level of those dirtbags involved in occupy boston"

    grrrr -- i turned it off. said i was going to write the station -- it is supposed to be SPORTS not politics. and my kid is no dirtbag.

    anyway. thanks for the white space.

    undogin <-- my code word which is an awful lot like "undoing"

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  2. oh. i should add (for flavor) that i read those poems in the "jerk cafe" my new favorite place to eat -- jamaican and "shrimpy" the owner/chef was singing and dancing to bob marley at the top of his lungs all through my dinner. i joined in during buffalo soldier. :)

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  3. Being Swedish I should know. But I don't. Not because I don't know his name - he is wellknown in Sweden. I just don't read poems. I read stories. Like yours. And I'm a photographer. Well that's no reason not to read poems. I just don't read them.

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  4. L, Embrace the epithets. I'm a "dirtbag." Dirtbags unite. And Fear This. I've seen some backlash to my post, by the way, apparently from those who think that either a) they are the one percent or b) the one percent has their best interest at heart.

    J, We will excuse you as an expatriate photographer. Good to hear from you.

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