15.1.04
Gender connect the dots at Bio-Motion
link the eyes have it
12.1.04
Some truth there was, but dash'd and brew'd with lies;
To please the fools, and puzzle all the wise.
Succeeding times did equal folly call,
Believing nothing, or believing all.
Th' Egyptian rites the Jebusites embrac'd;
Where gods were recommended by their taste.
Such sav'ry deities must needs be good,
As serv'd at once for worship and for food.
By force they could not introduce these gods;
For ten to one, in former days was odds.
So fraud was us'd, (the sacrificers' trade,)
Fools are more hard to conquer than persuade.
Their busy teachers mingled with the Jews;
And rak'd, for converts, even the court and stews:
Which Hebrew priests the more unkindly took,
Because the fleece accompanies the flock.
Thanks to Today in Literature for projecting Bob Kaufman onto the night sky of the internet.
There was a record I heard in unusual circumstances, Greenwich Village December 1971, field recordings from the streets of the 50's, a guy in Houston TX, playing garbage-can drums on the sidewalk and riffing wild as some jungle thing out in the spooky midnight of broad daylight straight America; and later, live, Bob Kaufman, right up close with his eyes flashing like light bars on a squad car, right there on Broadway down from Vesuvio, out on the sidewalk also, right there at infinite speed overtaking the light-years of effort and painstaking research of academic discovery, the zip and blur of his arrival as pre-ordained as the fact he never moved, trance-talking holiness and fool-sacrificing, ragged with juice and Siberian in his authenticity.
10.1.04
The area where this is located, is infested with drug dealers and tranvestite prostitutes.
Looking On
poem at Verse Daily by Jasmine Lamb
9.1.04
Project Gutenberg's anabasis
There are lots of pretend eBook operations, but none of them produce all of their eBooks themselves, or have 10,000 of their own eBooks that can be read by virtually any text reader and word processor
The next big step, after we have reached a million eBooks, will be to translate each of them into as many as 100 languages, thus making them available to an even larger audience.
Regarding the number of titles in the public domain, during the 20th Century, there were many years in which over 50,000 books were published and the rate has been increasing throughout. Certainly there were a million titles published before 1923 that we can get our hands on, not to mention
non-book items such as newspapers, magazines, brochures and advertisements, court records and other government documents, unpublished manuscripts and diaries, music, film, photographs, audio, and other art forms.
-Michael Hart interviewed by Sam Vaknin/UPI Jan.07.04
The Building of the Tower of Babel (detail)
by the Master of the Duke of Bedford
British Library
at the Virtual Babel Encyclopedia's extensively attributed, linked, and annotated Babel Art resources
—
Other illuminated manuscripts at the British Library include
St. Matthew in His Study
Alexander The Great Consulting His Astrologers After An Eclipse Of The Sun After The Battle of Arbela
A Genealogical Tree of the Kings of Aragon
The Crucifixion of St. Andrew
Augustus and The Triburtine Sybil
Fortune Appearing To Boccaccio
and of course, The Lindisfarne Gospels
further online images from The Lindisfarne Gospels
also the entomologically precise Lauds in The Hours of The Virgin
The Tree of Jesse
("Keyword" Hours, check "Image descriptions only")
The Digital Catalog of Illuminated Manuscripts
British Library
Natalie Jeremijenko
Cool Artist of the Month at Found Objects
Jeremijenko project hubs at Yale
(broken linkage on The Pond)
-
link path Blackbeltjones
thru high-affinity links at brushstroke.tv
8.1.04
"After the breakfast I walkd around and found a beautiful Tea shop. An gentleman came and hosted and showed me around the shops and told me about their history when we are drinking tea as a taste. He is a Chinese and speak to me in Japanese and English and speak to the shop people in Chinese.Very nice man and sophisticated. I never have time for shopping so I decided to buy all suvenior for my family and friends here, Tea and tea set etc.
He choosed me which was nicefor my parent. He said they don't accept the credit cards but it OK to pay in Japanese money , so I paid him Japanes yen10,000. He said he will pay me the chanege in Japanes yen and went to get them. A half hour later one of the shop girl s asked me how I want to pay. I told them I already paid the money to him and I am waiting for the change. Then we learned I thought he was the owner of this shop and they thought he was my tour guide. Of course he never came back and disappieared with my money!"
Audrey Kimura, of Benten Records, on a trip to Beijing to be with Hang On The Box
She stayed at this hotel on her last night there.
7.1.04
6.1.04
4.1.04
3.1.04
Right after Stephen King got that tempest in a teapot rolling I needed something to read and there was nothing new in the house but Ken Follett John Grisham and Clive Cussler. So I did pretty much what he was saying to do, I read some best-selling 'non-serious' literary authors. But that's for later. What I did last week was read in spurts and back and forth Kathryn Davis' The Girl Who Trod On A Loaf, and Robertson Davies' The Lyre of Orpheus. Both of whom are serious literary authors.
Both books are about an opera, in production by amateurs. Both books have a primary character of northern european extraction and sapphic proclivities. Both books have an intelligent everyman narrator, though Davies' alternates between first and third person and Davis' stays in the first. Both books are widely, complexly set and driven; and the plotlines of both are tapestries of philosphy and metaphysical speculation. I read often in snatches late at night these days, picking up a likely volume and reading til my eyes close. One night Davis, another Davies. Sometimes both in the same night. So of course I conflated them. Now I have to concentrate to separate them. Which means they're truly mixed deeper in where real art works its magic. And that would be the main distinction I'd make. Magic, competent or incompetent. Successful spells and fuddled attempts. Follett's Jackdaws concerns an heroic but little recognized branch of the French Resistance and its English allies, a hero of which was profiled here some time ago. He writes a gripping story. Grisham's a decent man, and that's not faint praise, decency is a rare enough virtue now, and he writes from a stance of decency, moral defense of the decent. I'm not going to pick at what it is in their work that's not enough or too much. But there it is. We're not talking about them as men, as human, we're talking about them as magi, as architects. The ranking isn't according to their worth personally, it's the value of their contribution to something higher than mere public appetite for entertainment.
There's room in the world for all of us, writers and readers and those who do neither, but the thing King didn't seem to want to address is the consuming attack on serious art the present complicitly allows; it's analogous to the assault on wilderness. Things are valued for their commercial potential and exploited or abandoned on those terms.
So the Academy's right to chastise the popular, at this point, not solely because it's popular, but because it creates the illusion, by producing millions of physical books, that there is a concomitant proliferation of actual literary art.
Magic is like technology. It works or it doesn't. The magic of great storytelling is not a consumer-determined choice. It is there or it is partially there or it is not there at all. Choice has nothing to do with it. Chocolate and vanilla has nothing to do with it.
The sun is out or the sun is not out, whether you're happy about that is another thing entirely.
The magic I'm talking about is not tricks and deception, it's the subtle outfitting of the inexperienced, giving knowledge without the gift being seen. Folk-tales, fairy tales, it's easy to disassemble some of the parts and see some of what's there. But the best literature is thrown out ahead of where we are as a whole, what we know about ourselves, as a species, as an organism, as the sum of our best, and worst, parts. What we are at this moment is inconceivably complex and vast, and the best literature does more than just reflect that, it equips us for the journey through.
Stephen King wants popular literature to be acknowledged by serious professional and accredited lettrists, but he wants it to be honored for something it hasn't done well or completely. It has not worked its magic.
Both books are about an opera, in production by amateurs. Both books have a primary character of northern european extraction and sapphic proclivities. Both books have an intelligent everyman narrator, though Davies' alternates between first and third person and Davis' stays in the first. Both books are widely, complexly set and driven; and the plotlines of both are tapestries of philosphy and metaphysical speculation. I read often in snatches late at night these days, picking up a likely volume and reading til my eyes close. One night Davis, another Davies. Sometimes both in the same night. So of course I conflated them. Now I have to concentrate to separate them. Which means they're truly mixed deeper in where real art works its magic. And that would be the main distinction I'd make. Magic, competent or incompetent. Successful spells and fuddled attempts. Follett's Jackdaws concerns an heroic but little recognized branch of the French Resistance and its English allies, a hero of which was profiled here some time ago. He writes a gripping story. Grisham's a decent man, and that's not faint praise, decency is a rare enough virtue now, and he writes from a stance of decency, moral defense of the decent. I'm not going to pick at what it is in their work that's not enough or too much. But there it is. We're not talking about them as men, as human, we're talking about them as magi, as architects. The ranking isn't according to their worth personally, it's the value of their contribution to something higher than mere public appetite for entertainment.
There's room in the world for all of us, writers and readers and those who do neither, but the thing King didn't seem to want to address is the consuming attack on serious art the present complicitly allows; it's analogous to the assault on wilderness. Things are valued for their commercial potential and exploited or abandoned on those terms.
So the Academy's right to chastise the popular, at this point, not solely because it's popular, but because it creates the illusion, by producing millions of physical books, that there is a concomitant proliferation of actual literary art.
Magic is like technology. It works or it doesn't. The magic of great storytelling is not a consumer-determined choice. It is there or it is partially there or it is not there at all. Choice has nothing to do with it. Chocolate and vanilla has nothing to do with it.
The sun is out or the sun is not out, whether you're happy about that is another thing entirely.
The magic I'm talking about is not tricks and deception, it's the subtle outfitting of the inexperienced, giving knowledge without the gift being seen. Folk-tales, fairy tales, it's easy to disassemble some of the parts and see some of what's there. But the best literature is thrown out ahead of where we are as a whole, what we know about ourselves, as a species, as an organism, as the sum of our best, and worst, parts. What we are at this moment is inconceivably complex and vast, and the best literature does more than just reflect that, it equips us for the journey through.
Stephen King wants popular literature to be acknowledged by serious professional and accredited lettrists, but he wants it to be honored for something it hasn't done well or completely. It has not worked its magic.
from The Holy Piby:
THE FOURTH BOOK OF ATHLYI
CALLED PRECAUTION
CHAPTER 1
A BUGGY FROM TOKIO TO LOS ANGELES, A BICYCLE FROM LONDON TO ANGUILLA
In his parlor he shall see a rooster treading in the moon and the bees on the roses in Venus.
The laborers in Mars, strike-breakers on earth and my daughter in college in Jupiter.
Robert Athlyi Rogers
—
Robert Athlyi Rogers and Marcus Garvey
—
early Rastafarian Leaders
—
link barista
Untitled (3)
Ilkka Halso
Galerie Anhava
link path gmtplus9
2.1.04
Bugs and Such
Jennifer Angus
1.1.04
"...a scourge with which Charles V is said to have scourged himself, a hat band of snake bones...."
The Tradescant Collection
The Ashmolean Museum
Oxford University
Stonehenge 1936
The Allen Air Photograph Archive
Reserve Collections
The Ashmolean Museum
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