Down and out semi poet who is down and out in the Low Country of South Carolina after living in Atlanta which is not to be confused with the south, the old south or the new south. Atlanta was a global metropolis with all the pluses and minuses that comes with that. The low country, low because it is low, 8 feet above sea level, is not Podunk but once you get to Podunk, turn left. I try to chronicle a small part of all that through my daily haiku for you.
he wrote, never print anything that a scrub-woman cannot understand
‘no paper of mass appeal could afford to be without a staff astrologist or a palmist who could tell you how to improve your fortune’. ‘The space we devote to politics is a dead loss in circulation.’ He wrote ‘Never print anything that a scrub-woman in a skyscraper cannot understand’, a statement paralleled by R. D. Blumenfeld in England ‘never to forget the cabman’s wife’.
So said Emile Gauvreau in his book, My Last Million Readers (New York, 1941) as quoted by Harold Adams Innis in his book, The Press: A Neglected Factor in the Economic History of the Twentieth Century (Oxford University Press, London, 1949).
Mr. Innis writes: “In the intense competition for circulation and for advertising success was won by the use of reading matter and picture appeal in competition with the magazines and by the use of features which emphasized gossip about movie stars.“
saw live-oak growing, all alone stood it, moss hung down from the branches …
I Saw in Louisiana A Live-Oak Growing by Walt Whitman
I saw in Louisiana a live-oak growing, All alone stood it and the moss hung down from the branches, Without any companion it grew there uttering joyous leaves of dark green, And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself, But I wonder’d how it could utter joyous leaves standing alone there without its friend near, for I knew I could not, And I broke off a twig with a certain number of leaves upon it, and twined around it a little moss, And brought it away, and I have placed it in sight in my room, It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends, (For I believe lately I think of little else than of them,) Yet it remains to me a curious token, it makes me think of manly love; For all that, and though the live-oak glistens there in Louisiana solitary in a wide flat space, Uttering joyous leaves all its life without a friend a lover near, I know very well I could not.
Unlike Uncle Walt, I wasn’t in Louisiana but in Charleston, SC.
Also unlike Uncle Walt, I was surrounded by live oaks instead of just one that stood out alone.
Still, their look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself.
But not that in anyway might I match up with these wonders but only in how temporary I was and huge these trees were.
So there was Walt, in another state, a state named after a King of France.
And there I was in another City and a State both named after a King of England.
Louis and Charles.
I will be gone tomorrow.
Louis and Charles will be forgotton.
But these trees.
I can’t image the world without these magnificent trees.
among reeds rushes baby boy was found eyes as clear as centuries
Down among the reeds and rushes A baby boy was found His eyes as clear as centuries His silky hair was brown
Never been lonely Never been lied to Never had to scuffle in fear Nothing denied to Born at the instant The church bells chime And the whole world whispering Born at the right time
Born at the Right Time – 1990 Words and Music by Paul Simon
cannot tell – world is grown so bad wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch
I cannot tell. The world is grown so bad That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. Since every Jack became a gentleman, There’s many a gentle person made a Jack.
Richard III (Act I, Scene 3, Line 71)
I saw this feller today on at Fish Haul Beach on Hilton Head Island.
I kept getting closer and closer with my iPhone out with my finger poised over the VIDEO RECORD button waiting for the bird to fly off.
I got closer and closer.
The eagle kind of stared at me.
Stared at me as if say, What Fresh Hell is This?
I was at the beach.
The eagle was at the beach.
We decided to ignore each other and worry only about the world gone bad.
I took ideas people understood, gave in way they did not understand
“It was just something I wanted to do,.”
“It wasn’t anything thought out. It was just personal to me … I wanted to make sure I took ideas people understood and gave it to them in a way they just did not understand.”
So says designer Thom Browne in an article about him titled, Fashion designer Thom Browne: ‘Men should be able to wear anything’ by Edward Helmore in the Guardian.
The theme of his collection this year, according to the article is:
The theme of his collection this season is Moby-Dick, because he read it as a boy. It includes a dark green, below-the knee Harris tweed skirt for men. It’s a manifesto, something to wear to a corporate office. “I think we live in a world where men should be able to wear anything,” he says. “I don’t really care if anybody wants to wear it, but I think it looks good, and it’s an interesting proposition for anyone who does.”
Read that last bit over again.
It includes a dark green, below-the knee Harris tweed skirt for men.
“I think we live in a world where men should be able to wear anything.”
Well boy howdy if he wanted to take something I thought I understood and give it in a way I did not understand Mr. Browne achieved that with his skirt for men.
On the other hand, had he called it a kilt, it would only be about 1000 behind the times.
For some reason, the entire article brought this Calvin and Hobbs comic strip to mind.
Why do I write?
I think I can embrace both thoughts here.
I want to take ideas people understood and give it back to them in a way they just did not understand.
And …
I just want to make your day a little more surreal.
So remember this.
If you send a chocolate back in time just 15 minutes, it means that 15 minutes ago you had two chocolate bars.
Since you might have been in your lab messing around with time travel, and you got a chocolate bar when you already had one, you would know that in 15 minutes, you had to send that chocolate bar in time.
What happens if you eat that chocolate bar?
Or, consider this, if John Conner had been a woman, she could have been pregnant with herself.
No Haiku For You 