Category Archives: Posts

Blog Post No. 4.1

Post No. 4.1.0

emperor of ice

Welcome back to Uncle Tom’s Blog Cabin. Yes, where was eye, in this silly iStream of things… This Post is from the “Lost Hard Drive”, my recently-crashed MacBook! It served me well, iSuppose, but I lost a number of pieces that weren’t backed up, so this is sort of re-imagined, Post No. 4.1.0. I really don’t know how to do this darn Blog-thing, let alone function―expletive repeated―since that dismal day I had to go computerless! And I hardly give a fancy rat’s ass! ibid. see poem below:

 

Rat’s Ass

for Peter Kadyk Overton

Meaning by itself has none.
As surely as I sit myself down to write,
it is done. We were raised to think
aesthetics matter, but they don’t,
capricious only, mere foibles,
seductions of the mind.

Something about this day was crucial
and then not. I tricked myself into being.
Yet, I am comfortable here on this bench,
it is my favorite place to be on a warm
autumn’s day, I feel like a traveler.

Funny though, how there can be so little
to say and even less to do, with so much
expected of us, always active and engaged,
with all due respect, I should like to say,
I don’t give a rat’s ass.

That was, “Rat’s Ass”, circa 1991. Yeah, those were the days, over 20 years later, still struggling on… So it is, with great purpose & fortitude, I send out this next Blog Post from Mission Control, here in San Francisco. I’m not sure exactly with what, “purpose & fortitude”, but that is in the spirit of it, the very nature of the thing-in-itself!

Who Has Time.2.

iBlog-on, slog-on… Yet find myself wandering & wondering why, just why do we have to spend so much time at computers!? (When did our lives get hijacked into the Matrix?) It’s like I died 15 years ago and haven’t done a thing since! Oh well, such is the nature of “progress”. So much for slow, painstaking synthesis of actually “drawing” things as they seem… The Man on his Blue Guitar.

It used to be that Henry Mancini’s Sleepworld or SleepTrain had the edge, selling us nice new fresh mattresses, (songs) reminding us that we spend 1/2 our lives in bed! Some people even sleep there, so I’ve been told. But now the metric wrench has shifted and tossed us all into the Quantum Gearbox of Facebooking. Most of the time people are unwilling to even look each other squarely in the eyes, unless of course, they’ve been pre-screened and properly “liked” on some pseudo-cosmopolitan website. Welcome aboard Virgin Air! Absolutely, “No Liking Allowed”, prior to sign-in and passcode verification!

 

La Jolla Cove 1983

Yet, here I am, pouring out my soul in this ditch-witch blog-portal to know-where!? No what iMean? iSurely don’t. “And stop calling me, Shirley!” We’re still social party animals, after all, and iKnow we haven’t met, formally, but somehow, we need each other. (I used to write letters to my mother, but as she’s long-since gone up, now I’m writing them to you!) We may, in fact, be more a part of one another than we could ever realize. Maybe that is what “religion” is all about in the best sense of the word-world and we have always known this…

Now, I’m just interloping and interpolating and percolating from the last lost Post before the MacBook Air Crash a month ago or so. Somehow, willing or not, we’ve all thrown our hats into this ring-around-the-hard-drive-rat-race, slouching & morphing toward Bethlehem. And the great part is that we are free to do this, but what do we make of it? Pure vanity or hubris? Instant gratifuckation and redemption in pay-pal land? Not likely, it’s more like Egypt, it’s evolutionary. We will all be set “free” by computers & technology even as we are enslaved by them! And, we’re gonna like it! “There’s an app for that!”

Where there’s a will, there’re at least three lawyers & a cockfight! Whoops, how did that get in there? Must’ve slipped in out of some iCloudburst silver linings foul-play-book in the southern hemisphere… under the Northern Lights! How do I know? Welcome to the interwebs.

Don’t forget to check-out & buy something from my, ah, collection; if iEver get that part of my website together… Yes, in this regard, I must ask for help from the world-community, in the most sincere & evolutionary of terms. Ironically, it is, with our funny world, that wee working people, who are supposed to be “honored” for actually “working”, are never really able to retire. After 30 years in the trenches, doing carpentry and a million other jobs… I’m physically unable to hoist myself up sides of buildings, dangling over the prospect of further incapacitations and certain death, for the sake of someone, uhm, up-there… whoever he or she may be, who has all the money. It’s just ridiculous and we know this, so it is in the spirit of all of us, being able to have dreams and actually achieve them… Not only the born-wealthy folks…

END.2

END #1

 

 

 

As I said somewhere before, I’m into content, structure and iambic filibusters! I’m a poet & carpenter and see no cloture in the near infinity! What do we expect, we’re only human or some close approximation thereof. This is why I am, “The Fortunate Son”. I definitely mean the things I’m saying, I just can’t necessarily remember what they were or ever get back, to edit and endorse them…

Well, I’ve got to go, they’re just about to start another war, this could be “The Big One” and I don’t want to miss it! So, here’s another vintage nugget from the 90‘s entitled: “The Damned”. Please read it if you like, on my “Poems” section.

Blog Post No. 3.1

WAR-MART 

 

What is the Point of Poverty! There are just four pages left in my present little peasant moleskine journal, but have I written or drawn anything worthy of transcription or publication? Dear God, the more I pack into these little journals the less might actually appear—if that is possible—to return what began as a blank page back to its original obverse emptiness!

Three Chimneys         All hail the Blog! Blog must go on! Yes, for this is not my journal anymore, but the third actual blog post to establish Global Link Sausages: You never sausage a place! A concatenation of like-minds resonating in perfect fugal dynamix! O.k., I may be reaching, yes, but that is the point, is it not? I am reaching out! We may be the 99%, but percentages don’t matter anymore because math, as-we-know-it, is over, this is the “AfterMath”.

San Carlos & 20th St.

*(Politix, all-4-1! Once & for all! May I never mention “politix” in this context again!)

Yes, the journals were almost running on “empty” by now, running on fumes, but the blog goes on to infinity, until we have our own “American Spring And All”. It’s not too late, it is merely the end of the beginning!

Spare us all from the depraved polarity of that word, “politix”! We are all so much better than this. We are all together so much more than sum of our parts! In our hearts, like William Guitarlos Williams’, “Spring and All”, it is all that we are and we who know this now, know that the jig is up… This is the purpose of this s-p-a-c-e… This is why I’ve begun this Blog, because we are tired of the nonsense of rhetoric & rivalry & road-rage of the ages… bereft of sages… or at least deaf to their circumambience.

Zsuzsi in Kitchen

I don’t want to get off track, though I’m not sure it is possible or even avoidable, as long as we persevere… We cannot fail to see the forests through the manhole covers and hubcaps of the city. We are here and this is our city too, not just the real estate mongers and voracious bankers and investors. This is The City, this is the Blog and I’m Jack Web. It’s all related, it’s about everything that concerns us and some things which don’t, all of it, like my favorite book of poetry this year, “The Best Of It”, by Kay Ryan. O.k. I think I veered off track, but really, check her out. She’s great!

I am sort of re-creating my journals in this effort to blog, but they’re distilled and broken-down, atomized, amalgamated, incorporated… Write now I am listening to another of my favorites: “Shing Kee” by Carl Stone from his album, “Mom’s”.

Please remain in touch… stay close, as I can only get so much of this out at a time. It feels like giving birth or something, not that eye wood no, knot that I could possibly know…

I’ve posted this now, before Post No. 2, but I don’t think it matters in the stream of things…

Blog Post No.1

Blog Post No. 1.

"Drawing the drawing drawing the hands drawing hands..."

“Drawing the drawing drawing the hands drawing hands…”

I wouldn’t even know where to start! My God, what is the ‘point’ of all this?

I’m 52 years old in two weeks and desperate. I’m a carpenter for 25 years but went to art school! That should sum it all up! So now, with my wife & daughter, I have no visible/ invisible means of support, but for my life’s work in art, making crazy performance poetry in San Francisco and writing these endless journals and drawing my slanted, carpentry-influenced views of the city of San Francisco. One thing which is clear, all-2-clear-here & there: is that I write entirely too much! I mean, just looky-look around at all these journals.
— see inset photos, inserting…

What am I going to do with all these poems & journals & drawings?! I really hope… I pray somehow that I break through with enough success to be free to edit, transcribe even a fraction of this, the better 1/10 of it, this… my life, my wife, my child, my God! That’s where you come in—this is a work-in-progress and there are plenty of things to purchase and ways to help out so we can go on. From the bottom of my heart to top of my aorta, I thank you!

From everyone to everyone according to everyone! I think Marx said that, Groucho Marx! Or was it Lenin. Everyone helps everyone in the New World! This is the ‘point’ of all of my work! Entertainment is part of it, but the real point of it is the freedom of everyone! Civil Rights does not end with elimination of discrimination; Civil Rights begins with Freedom; the freedom of everyone from economic enslavement & tyranny. Did I mention I’m desperate? And certainly, most “average” Americans have likewise been sold down that same “river”.

(What was that line, right about here? Mistah Kurtz?)