Sunday, April 28, 2013

Old-timey Reviews Make My Day

Solid review of the 600 Grant Street Rooftop.














Absolutely solid.


In case you can't see the text, Beth L writes:
I attempted to land my human powered auto-gyro on this roof top during my excursion from Whetherbee to Quintorp. I found the ground crew most amiable and helpful. The view of Pitts-boro was splendid as well. Bully!

Thursday, April 25, 2013

What is a poet?

I found this perspective from Tony Hoagland on youtube this morning. It was recorded in October of 2011 at the Poetry Foundation as part of the Chicago Ideas Week series (think Ted Talks with Chicago folks). In his talk, Hoagland suggests that poets are the complainers of society. Their pain is our pain, articulated. Where as some are forced to speechlessness by some events, the poet is forced to speech.

I don't mean for my summary to make Hoagland's talk sound romantic. It's not. And, it's not finger-wagging either. It's a clear argument that good poetry comes from that person we don't usually want to listen to--that person who our culture, with its relentless enthusiasm for positivity, asks us to ignore. Hoagland uses personal anecdotes and well-known poems to make his point. If you write poetry, make a cup of tea/grab a drink and listen closely. It's inspiring.

After listening, I was compelled to reconsider what I am giving to my writing group for tomorrow's workshop. Will I turn in schlock molded from the shape of my comfortable middle-class life or articulate deformity?

How is that writing group going, you ask? Well, one of is in now New York. Our Friday afternoon "band practice" is a bit more precious now. We meet at 30th Street Station just a few hours before she catches her train home to her new city. Weird to write that.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Victory is mine, Inbox!

 

The relentless flow of time will soon enough deposit a mountain of emails on me, but for now I have this little celebration from the programmers at Google. Bless them.

Monday, April 22, 2013

April Madness Continues at Powell's Books

Not many surprises this round. Perhaps Gary Snyder losing to Theodore Rhoeotke and Walt Whitman to Emily Dickinson--but those juggernauts were fairly evenly matched going into this round.

http://www.powells.com/poetrymadness

Oh, and poetry is 15% off this month.

National Survey of College Graduates

The National Survey of College Graduates is an effort by the National Science Foundation to gather data on the employment particulars of individuals with college degrees of various levels. It's a massive survey with tens of thousands of respondents (according to the Office of Management and Budget), and for the past three months, the Census Bureau has sent me a few pieces of snail mail encouraging me to take the survey. Last weekend, I finally did (well, the online version anyway--I'm sure it's the same). It was kind of fun, actually.

As I clicked on various responses and entered information, I thought about the work my college degrees prepared me to do, and every few pages, I sat back and thought about the trajectory of my life over the past twenty years. I thought about several jobs I had--the ones closely related to my education and the ones that weren't. I thought about the degree to which our society values the work I do. I considered how rewarded I am by the work I do--that's a series of questions on the survey, actually: all about salary, benefits, and satisfaction. I considered those I know who aren't satisfied by their work--those with work thanks to their degrees, and those with work unrelated to their degrees.

The results are available for download here at this NSF webpage. When I get around to downloading and reading this thirty-seven megabyte file, I'll post an update.

One more thing: Besides gathering data on college graduate employment, I'm sure there's some interesting research going on into the workings of a survey this big. I mean, how does one manage a voluntary survey this large?

Perhaps with rhetoric like this:




Start with Out-of-date Science

I love this opening from the Reanimation Library's latest "Word Processor" feature:

If you want to learn anything, start with out-of-date science. You can read the latest reports of scientific journals, study advanced biology and chemistry and so forth, but that will only get you so far. You need disreputable texts, you need fanciful conjecture, old wives' tales, hasty assumption, poor observation, bias, faulty method.

Colin Dickey takes us through C. P. Idyll's Abyss, and in the process reminds us of the folly and beauty of taxonomic quests. All taxonomic quests seem beautiful and foolish, but so deep underwater, so far from sunlight--all of that work is under more pressure and a whole lot less light.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

March Madness Ends. April Madness Begins

Greatest Living Poet? Greatest Deceased Poet? Greatest Poet in Translation?

Oh, it's on alright.

Powell's Books, perhaps the coolest independent bookstore to also be gigantic, has created a bracket system for the 2013 Month of Poetry, which as we all know, is April. Head over to what the folks at Powell's are dubbing Poetry Madness and vote in this single elimination tournament. Scroll down to the bottom of the page and vote as you see fit in this first round.

First round eliminations will be difficult on all of us, I know. Is it unfair that Li Young-Lee has been pitted against Kevin Young? Is it nonsensical that Billy Collins is up against Mary Oliver? Perhaps, but the league commissioners decided this, in their own words, as:

Three or four of us chatted over coffee and doughnuts.

Powell's has been in Portland, Oregon for decades, and silliness like this is part of the culture. A cat, Fup, inhabited the store for years, and in the early days of Powell's online presence, monthly email newsletters included a short section on the cat's adventures as well as reviews, and interviews.

Customer service is good--and I enjoy shopping from them. I don't know if I'm going to vote in Poetry Madness, but I thought I should share it--and the store--with others.


Who am I kidding? Of course I'll vote.



Tuesday, April 9, 2013

I liked this short animated film, and now I recommend it to you.

Two years ago, one late Saturday night, as I climbed into the rabbit-warren of the internet exploring yet another curiosity (How does one make cheese? How many spoken languages are left on planet Earth?), I found references to this short animated film, The Hidden Life of the Burrowing Owl. I wasn't able to actually find the film, just references to it.


It wasn't on Amazon, Netflix, or iTunes, so I wrote the director and asked him how to get it. He sent me a copy for free. He's that cool. The film is sad, funny, adorable and very clever, and I'm happy to report that it's now available on iTunes. Yay!

You can get it here on iTunes, or just go to iTunes and search burrowing owl. Now if only Amazon would distribute it. Amazon needs to show more respect to makers of short films.

Oh, what was I searching for that night two years ago? I was looking for videos of burrowing owls. An animated short? Close enough. Actually, better.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Vague Documentation

I was here. This is a college campus in the autumn of 2012. A student uses her phone on the way to class. My friend takes this photo, and I and another friend are next to him.

And, now the weird part. If my timeline has a halfway point, that afternoon was it. It's not that my life is going downhill from here. Hardly. It was just a feeling I had, something I felt going into that day, and something I felt departing it. The feeling of midpoint.

Perhaps I was merely hopped up on caffeine and loratadine, and these are the iffy memories of a re-wired brain fighting seasonal allergies. Well.

It was a nice day. I'm glad I was with my friends. I'm glad I have this photo.


Friday, March 22, 2013

I read an essay and think about an old friend.

In graduate school, I had the pleasure of taking a course on Classical Greek Rhetoric (taught by Dr. John Poulakos) with fellow graduate student, Steve Llano. I was in the English Department, Steve, Communications, and we hung out a few times: pizza, beer, Doctor Who. We also talked about the intersections of our teaching. Steve taught rhetoric and debate. I taught composition (writing). We were cool guys. Steve, also a clever guy (and still cool), influenced my thinking about composition, and for that I will always be grateful. I still read his posts on Google+ from time to time. Once he described what he was doing with his debating students as "languaging." Like I said, clever.

This morning, reading Peter Elbow's 1999 essay from Written Communication, "In Defense of Private Writing," I re-discovered a moment in the essay that I think is quite brilliant--a moment where again, I get to see the cool intersection of composition and debate. Elbow is tackling the tricky idea that writing can be a private act (even though we learn it socially), and he writes in his essay that some of the absolutist-sounding claims about composition should be seen less as positions of victory, and more as lenses through which we might see the world. He writes:

". . . if more people understood that lens statements and empirical evidence had only positive force and not negative force, they would be quicker to notice when they had slid into an unfruitful either/or argument. This understanding might even temper the hunger for winning as we know it. If by winning we mean demolishing the enemy view, this is impossible. If by winning we mean making everyone accept our position and feel the opposing one as old-fashioned, retrograde, naughty, shameful, or stupid, this is indeed possible. We see it all the time. But such winning is really losing because it robs the community of the fuller understanding that we need. I fear we may be (or perhaps recently have been) in such a condition among composition scholars: a condition where members had come to feel that the private lens, the sense in which language has a private dimension, was illegitimate or naughty.

There is only one way to really win—but winning is not a good word for this happy outcome: getting people to see the value of our  lens, getting them habitually to try it out when they want to understand something—even people who do not quite like our lens or are not disposed toward looking through it. Surely, the best way to get reluctant people to look through our lens is to be willing to look through theirs.

Winning. Don't misunderstand my quoting of Elbow here. I don't see Elbow's position here as excuse to suffer fools. This moment of wisdom reminds me that any conclusions I want to make about a topic—if I want them to matter—are only arrived at through much careful observation and consideration (as in being considerate), and to mix a metaphor, listening. Something that debaters are well-trained in. How often do I remind myself of this? How often do I take the time to demonstrate this to my students? Yes, but do I do it rigorously enough?

Anyway, all of this is probably a bit too nostalgic for a post, but this morning's reading was a pleasant reminder of the good times with Steve.


Saturday, March 16, 2013

Man Of Mystery; Fred Siegel

Fred Siegel's show, Man of Mystery, has its last performance tonight at South Street Magic at 8:30. Details below.
 
The work is a brilliant one-man (basically) performance memoir composed of stories from Siegel's life as a denizen of magic shops, a dynamo at Coney Island, and a disciple of the dark spaces people gather to be amazed.

There's a hilarious "dream-sequence" that I have the feeling changes with each performance. I can't wait to see that--and the entire show--again. Why do I love this show?

I love this show because it reminded me of why I like to write poetry. There's something magical about the idea of reaching across space and time to try and affect someone's view--to excite, to amaze, to amuse, to cause someone else to question thoughts, feelings, or perspectives. Siegel knows better (PhD from NYU) to waste time addressing this directly, but that point comes through elegantly in his stories. Through his performance he creates moments that are funny, tender, strange--even uncomfortable--but above all, the audience is treated to moments of mystery. Just when we think we have Siegel figured out, we don't. The only think left to do is listen and observe more carefully.

Artists, performers, and anyone who makes art for others--even those who just followed an obsession--will be captured by this show. That said, the occasional behind-the-scenes look into the world of magic (not magic tricks) should interest everyone.

This is my second time seeing the show. If the dream sequence does change, I will note it in a future post. I hope the show is extended. If not, I'll post again the next time it appears.

Get tickets online here.

South Street Magic is at:
519 South 4th Street, Philadelphia, PA 19147
(267) 519-3733





Butch Geography

Stacey Waite's book of poems, Butch Geography, is good. Really good. I pulled it out of the stack of books I brought home from Boston. Made some coffee, and started to read.

It was so good I forgot to drink my coffee. Engrossing, yes, but it's also tough on the heart. I actually had to put it down about half-way through. Only my cold coffee made me realize how long I had spent reading and re-reading these poems about gender, growing up--and not, fitting in--and not, and being tough--and not. Waite makes these poems look easy--I felt like she could be telling me these poems over a beer--but there's a complexity that kept bringing me back--will bring me back later this week to finish it. As I said, it's good.

I'll post another update when I finish it. Here's the link: Butch Geography by Stacey Waite.