This is not, in truth, exactly the way the poets seem to use Facebook… I for example just received invites to a couple of readings, joined a group celebrating the work of the American Modernist and polymath, Guy Davenport, and tried to send a birthday cupcake to Annie Freud (and failed – I think. I might have to actually call her).
Now, I must de-crumbify the house, put some clothes and books away, make myself decent, go get my skirt (I hope) from the dry cleaners and re-zippers (thanks, Jigsaw), meet up with my two louchest & most delightful friends for lunch in Soho, and find out what is happening to the rest of my weekend.
I am in truth beset with cares and frets, some serious, some not so; some tangential and others less so; and have not slept enough for three days. My in-bed reading this morning – a study of Keats’ transformation after his death from a living person (”this living hand”) into “Keats” – called Posthumous Keats – while fascinating and simpatico, may not have been very well-chosen.
It’s a gorgeous day: the quicker we get this Ms Baroque out in it & get a double espresso down her the better.
5 Comments
July 27, 2008 at 2:00 am
I must remember the phrase “de-crumbify the house.” Thanks.
July 27, 2008 at 5:54 am
The predictable quality of the comedy above, is tragic really.
That the Comedic sensibilties of the great united Kingdom, turns out chaps like this, who life has afforded the gift of camera, light, imagination — and that the actors engaging in the Holy art of Comedy, rarely manage to soar into the free extemporsational mode of comedic flight Dara or sean in Crouch End could deliver at the Kings Head, means i remain but remain earth-bound,
apprehend a cultural strain — tele-interuptions – by hard nosed news type fox Friends mimicking the Lies of ruperts and a behaviour we get sold as civil code in these ancient lands; which alerting us to a Comedy of hesitation in which the creeping modes of Polite engagement our socio pathological assassin type protagonists with cameras, think hides what’s masked behind a language (perhaps) whose syntax is dangerously detached.
A sort of, ah well, isn’t it just US, pushing in the que, forcing ourselves into A frame and then before we know it, binary class of appalingly passive victim and appallingly gobby bore imposing their own overload of hard sell on us, forcing us to immediately ask — is this good for U2 – to approach what is seen in the third and fourth realms here, and offer observent Comedy Criticism to any number of playas in any number of comedic pieces consigned to a dump where — afforded nuff respect – a nation of windbags explode ranting like Me Jah benje origami artists, bending and doing stuff which will only embarrass their grandchildren unless, unless a comedy doctor were to appear and make it funny, like a fwend preening their genius for all stuff of Humour, like bernie manning, now he was fat..
July 28, 2008 at 7:17 am
Er…right. Okay. Can I simply say that I thought the Facebook-goes-live clip was painfully funny? I have Facebook – useful for maintaining certain carefully vetted contacts – but it’s false beard and machete next time I ease its front door open on request.
July 28, 2008 at 2:48 pm
“maintaining certain carefully vetted contacts ” sounds like there is a top secret military aspect to the art of poetry, and (though this supposition may be wholly incorrect) interestingly, seems to indicate, (reflect?) that contemporary linguistic zeitgeist in the US and united Kingdom of england, has an overblown and wholly unwarranted sense of Fear about it.
July 30, 2008 at 7:21 pm
Nick, glad you like it! We live to serve. But I can’t imagine what a sometimes-saintly person needs with a phrase like “de-crumbify the house.” Don’t your crumbs just, you know, sort of float away?
Dick, bless you – if I can say that in Nick’s presence – I liked it too. Made me laugh.
Des, I edited. Hope you don’t mind.