Labi Siffre - Into The Light

Sell. Ebb. Pretty.

The ugly parade before cameras
Under spotlights on red carpets

The beautiful are meat in grinders
The rest of us gnaw at their extremities

___

Ah, to hear that familiar phrase

Could you make it “more universal”
This time to the artist Patrick Angus
In the TV movie “An Englishman
In New York” reminds me

Of the black artists
Or their representatives
Who served me the same
When I offered them “Something
Inside So Strong”. Laugh?
As a matter of fact I did

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Adult Content

WHY MERRY IS CHRISTMAS GOD USE NOT YOUR HELD BRAIN RESPONSIBLE ANSWER FOR THE ITS QUESTION ACTIONS

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When you happen so much dies

Is this the inevitability of sharks in banks?
In Miss Average invisibility mode

She navigates the gallery several times kneels
As if to adjust her laces leaves piles of goat poo

In neat intervals a trail of swappings

Polished wood for mounds of tiny black,
So fairly fresh, not liquorice drops; she disappears
I watch intrigued as users approach the realm,
See, then query the poo; I prefer it

I wander into déjà vu of Amsterdam
Those years ago at that white guy’s exhibition
You know, the white, art equivalent of Step ‘n Fetchit?
Though Lincoln had to do it ‘cause whitey
Wouldn’t let his kind do any else; anyway
The white clown’s stuff is a one trick pony

In which he gives ‘em nothing to think
So no one’s offended by having to work it
And he tells ‘em that what they’ve understood
Is, though they were bravely unpretentious
Enough not to see it . . . profound

He's so good you wonder, is it a simulacrum?
Big smile and it looks as though he's bowing
But he isn't; and he reels 'em in and tells 'em
That all that time, through the medium of his work,
They were being deeply profound
. . . Without Knowing It

Bigger smile, perfect teeth, eyes wide, and that means

They, the customers, are intelligent, gifted, creative,

Spiritual; and most of all . . . special.

___

Language is a dangerous thing

So, for protection, we find it's

Handy to cap it

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"Living is a job for life "

His successful pitch as a “Corporate
Spiritual Essence of Existence Adviser”
but on this third trip down alimony alley
With cash dripping from slit wrists
The only ups are the media bandages; losing
The respect of his kids like that is deep
Unburdening talkie-talk gold

It’s advisable to version only one confession
And in only one genre so folks know exactly
What to expect. Be aware a surprise can
Be considered a felony assault, especially if the victim
Client, bought a ticket; At the same time befriend
A zillion strangers. He truth and reconciliation
Can thank you ma’am do that

As in “man kind”, antonym “bitch”; Oh The humanity
The authorized version: be cruel to be kind, kill
For peace, I could kill for a bit of peace and I demo
Cratically with spirituality have and continue
Scrota do. You want the truth? OK. here it is
With Jehovallah off the hook, we’re all
Very much at ease

___

I notice there are no conversations

On his gloves nor on his boots and though
The street is covered in newsprint

Little is read and all is overborn
By the angel three meters tall

In its arms a light machine gun
Its right foot on the tune of a child

Notice the chorus is neither Greek
Nor Norwegian; anxiously they speak
"Is it art?"

“is it art?"

And now I press the button
Though that is not my task

___

Within a few years

War had come again

And again and again

Difficult to believe

We men

Of every creed

Race and hue

Are so stupid

___

I sometimes forget this & lose heart

"Yes, it matters. Information matters. The truth matters. Words matter.

These things may not matter to the ignorant, the ideologues, the racists, the 'murican exceptionalists, the secessionists, the tea baggers, or Michael Steele.

But fuck those people. They don't own the truth. They don't own the facts. They don't own reality. And we are not obligated to cater to them. Knowledge is still power."

Written by ondioline
October 9, 2009 8:25 PM  in reply to nellieh on the TPM post How They Pick Nobel Laureates

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Streuth! You piss me off!

Five minutes of this out of eighty years of that
Stop whining you little shit! Open the desk
Drawer; slowly a hand creeeeps out

It holds a flower; the flower is a message
The hand is a message. The drawer is a message.
The desk is a message. The message is a message.

Eat the message; I will have a salt beef sandwich
On rye with pickle mustard lettuce tomato
I will have a glass of merlot with my sandwich

Enjoy your message you piece of shit
Streuth! You piss me off!
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I have no interest in undoing what has been done

It cannot be undone; but
To explore what has been done
To define it; the many ways
Each can be defined
This I have interest in, though
It has no interest in me

As the box is more fun than
The toy could be because
I make the box what I want it to be
                         Take your toys
They have no power
They do not migrate
Nor do they stay for the winter

They dissolve
How miss them?
Why miss them?
I don’t miss them
I have the box
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If only the menschen had mentioned

But it’s too berate
The masonry is twisted the engine pinked
A green tinge is smearing those blond locks
Every hinge is skewed

Yesterday seven jackdaws were observed
In conference on the hospital roof
Chittering back and forth above the window
Next to your bed in the ward
You being already discharged; an irrelevance

I saw them as we drove away
They must have meant something;
"It’s so good to be home" you said
As I put the kettle on, then when I turned
You hugged me

With my arm around you I could see
The lush green fielded valley
The windmill sails turning steady
The sunlit purple heathered mountain
The thick smoke rising behind it
___

Today, from above and at an angle of 30°

and from this distance, perhaps seventy five metres, lamp posts have a distinct personality. Humans, in their use of “townscape as race track”, add merely smudge. Lamp posts abide by whatever circumstance circumstance provides. They have a place in which they are fit for purpose and at which they are at rest. They stay. The world comes to and past them. Theirs is a politics of determinance, decision, architecture, sculpture, substance, withstanding.

Humans, en masse, have adopted the politics of party politics. That is the requirement to be seen to appear to be doing something. Politically, doing something is unnecessary and often frowned upon. The appearance of doing something is obligatory.  These humans are moving forward.

The lamp posts, however, are improving . . . their patina of form, experience and observation, their grasp of ambience, their ability to externalize en plein air makes clear both hierarchy and lessons to be learned.

Obduracy born of fragile egos incapable of admitting ignorance, prevents humans from understanding this; in spite of the efforts lamp posts have exercised; arranging for all Parisian dogs to be tattooed with the letters  “h” “i” “s” “t” “o” “i” “r” and “e” (though not necessarily in that order).
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Credo

I believe in our boundless talent
For hearing impairmanency
Self-deathep-shone
Self-derear-lick-shone
Self-con-gratulay-shone
Selfless baal-anality
Our endless breathless quest
For less depth

Wherein we are required to forget
Mired in absurdity we don’t mention
It
We can discuss consequences but only
As current events, isolated conditions
Entertainments, with no connection
To the cause; which must never be
Acknowledged
Because we are The Marshmallow Men

Bedecked with honours and philosophies
“Never apologize never explain”
Is our favorite; standing tall we are
The John Wayne men.
He was acting; we, here,
Hiding in full view, are the real thing
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Heraldic Verses

It is red and white
Blood and bandages
As usual on a field of rampant indifference

It is the more
It is the more poor
It is the more poor war for

It is the excitement
It is the incitement
It is the subtercranial insight of Con
Stent blood soaked absurdity

It is the flight from the horrors of reason
It is the slitting of throats because they threaten
To make sense

It is the portrait of valour
It is the plate of raw meat
It is the fear
___

When the kicking began

No one erred

When the gun sung
No one heard

When the innocent confessed
Lies were preferred

In any event we'd looked away
So nothing occurred
___

Neither evening nor night

It is dark
Neither wrong nor quite right
It is acceptable disquiet

The time-pieces are piling up
Ankle high in the front room
In the toilet
Under the bed
In the cupboards
On the shelves
In sacks on our backs
On the moon even on the moon

To avoid a riot, we sign
We forget the cause
No matter
Another will occur
___

21st Century Claws

Our study conclusively proves
There is no causal link, none,
Between whatever it is you've got
And whatever it is we've done
___

The same thought but with a pulse

The imperative is to be positive
If nothing else celebrate your ability to fail

Synapses

The beach is wet with spittle and fear; Holiday takers
Wade in the shallows. On TV the woman questions the man
He has an adult lion loose on a chain. Suddenly,
With no discernable incitement or warning the lion
Surges forward, attacks the woman; sinks claws deep
Knives in her arm. Struggles to draw her close
Enough to bite. "This is the captain speaking.
Before entering the lifeboats, passengers are required
To check their embouchure". Surprised I am
Only that she is surprised
Behind the town, hot lava fields spread
Housewives with children admire the glow

Easy to score; They offered to grow me
Up to a hundred and fifty thousand without
Collateral. Even though I'd had judgments against me
For debts unpaid. Transportation? I'd expected South Shields
Not Australia! "At least let me change my socks!"

In the downpour on the mountain overlooking the town
(The trees long ago removed for flooring) the mud prepares
to slide down
So I took the money, I spent the money, the wife can't sleep
At night for worry. Interest is mounting. I don't have a job.
Mouths to feed. Three kids cost. "Before removing your cash,
We need verification. We demand to know who we're stealing from"
I need more vowels. I never dreamed it would come to this
The beach is wet with spittle and fear. Holiday takers squelch
To their towels
___

Principles of the American Cargo Cult – by Peter Klausler

[My thanks to Peter Klausler for defining this. Charitably, he attributes these beliefs to most Americans; I would attribute these beliefs to most human beings ... LS]

I. Ignorance is innocence

Complicated explanations are suspect.
The world is simple, and there must be a simple explanation for everything.
Certainty is strength, doubt is weakness.
Admitting alternatives is undermining one's own belief.
Changing one's mind means one has wasted the time spent holding the prior opinion.
Your opinion matters as much as anyone else's.
When a person has studied a topic, he has no more real knowledge than you do, just a hidden agenda.

The herd should be followed.
The contemplative lemming gets trampled.
Popular beliefs must be true.
No bad idea can survive.
People are generally smart.
Even if a popular belief doesn't pan out, at least you'll be in the same boat as everyone else.

II. Causality is selectable

All interconnection is apparent; Otherwise, complicated explanations would be necessary.
The end supports the explanation of the means.
A successful person's explanation of the means of his success is highly credible by the very fact of his success.
You can succeed by emulating the purported behavior of successful people.
This is the key to the cargo cult.  To enjoy the success of another, just mimic the rituals he claims to follow.
Your idol gets the blame if things don't work out, not you.

You have a right to your share
You get to define your share.
Your share is the least you will accept without crying injustice.
Celebrate getting more than your share.

III. It's not your fault

If it's good for you, it's good.
Society is everyone else.
Good intentions suffice.
You can always apologize.
There is no long term.
Don't miss an opportunity.
Consequences are things that happen to others.

Only you can hold yourself accountable. Don't let others make you do that.
If somebody starts the blame game, you can still win it.
There are evil people and institutions, and surely one of them is more responsible than you are.
You are not the problem
An ugly image means a bad mirror.

IV. Death is unnatural

You're special.
Bad things shouldn't happen to you.
Pain is wrong.
Life should not hurt.
It's a Whiffle World.

Tragedy is a synonym for calamity
Bad things are never consequences of one's own action or inaction.
There will be justice
Bad people get punished.
You, however, will be forgiven.
___

"h2g2" article: What is a Cargo Cult?

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change: but can we do it?

in ziggurats
editors on three weather proofed meals a day
choose what we will read, see, hear and eventually
think and say from the warmth of our beds, sofas,
swivelling lumbar supporting chairs we want
others humiliated
the mediocre as we are proclaimed winners
complexity erased
the universe explained “briefly”
the language eased so that
bovine equals lion
sheep equals deep
in this way, if we truly believe enough,
we can, with certainty, do and be
anything we want; in paradise right
here right now
right now with everything
we want
___

foreplay

shock

negative is negative
because it’s not positive

positive is negative
because it’s not negative

better perhaps to be
earthed

*
the esens

it doesn’t make sense
it doesn’t have to
and if it makes
sense it’s suspect
sounding suspiciously like
“logic” or “semantics”
(the crime of getting
the words right)
and is to be avoided

still we can't make our feelings
boil this damned kettle so
clearly we're not sincere enough

*
right up to our

no beginning
no end
no middle
immeasurable
indivisible
no measurement can be made
relative to it
but we don't go there
innit?

*
the word

more than a word
it is an expression of hope

let us therefore retain the hope
and dispense with the word

now we have one word less
the dictionary is lighter

dead words are the sign
of society moving forward
___

understand I yes

you say you understand
so could you tell us please
what is your understanding

well I can’t really say but after all
one can understand without being able
to articulate that understanding

mmm … but if your understanding is poles apart
from the initiators understanding
or from the understanding of another observer
what then

then we merely have differing understandings

are any of those understandings wrong

no, all understandings are valid

could “appropriate” be a more appropriate
measure than “valid”

I don’t understand

well, what if every accurate application
of your understanding results
in disasterous, horrific consequences
would you insist your understanding
had been valid and appropriate and right

I understand what you’re saying
though I cannot articulate that understanding
do you understand

yes indeed, I understand
___

Boulders in the breeze of change

Struggling from hours
of writer’s block I wonder
is it the looking or the feeling
that feeds my pen? and there it is again
that stupid “either / or”
in a world manifestly “and”

Habit I suppose __ or worse
tradition; habit being more
easily accepted as weakness
while tradition, by misbegotten right,
achieves an exalted position
undeserved

Perverse even
but a bed easy to fall back on
the old song: we’ve always beaten
our wives this way, downgraded women
(hoes), niggers (multifarious colours and kinds),
roma, fags, jews, children as property

this way
we’ve always insisted life is sacred while killing
with the other fork in our tongue, always
taught the young with lies, deceit, clung
to fear and dogma while claiming
to be moving on. It is our culture.

it is our tradition, and tradition demands
you respect our culture
and traditions because

they are
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