Back on the steroids. 3.00 am start this morning. Better than yesterday when they kept me awake, buzzing all night. Wrote my worst poem – actually went back and corrected it for once but stuck to my resolve to ‘publish and be dammed’ – of course when I say publish only my esteemed critics circle get to see them and then half the time the link is broken. I don’t feel like ranting at all must be a bit tired after yesterday. I have Christopher Hitchens book ‘God is not Good’ – had it for quite a while filed in the ‘must read later’ section. It actually keeps my record cabinet propped up at the moment. Anyway rather than read the book (too lazy) I read a summary and the reviews. Oh dear seems Christopher did not bother much with scholarship – good on him – who cares – an opinionated rant for me every time especially if the thesis is as clearly right as the book title suggests. He died of cancer and was writing at his hospital tray right up to his death. Quite tempted to read his last book, I think it’s called ‘Mortality’ but I am not as brave as him. Whatever, he was a great loss to the atheist community in the UK and the US and stuck to his guns despite his concerns about lapsing into prayer at the last second. He didn’t.
Other than my university work I have become obsessed with poetry. Happily this obsession is shared with my sisters so we engage in a steady exchange of communications on the subject. They are much too kind about mine – but I like that. What has been helping though is they direct me to other poets work – now this is a good thing isn’t it? I discussed this with Av and we both agreed that reading the work of others is both a laxative and whatever the opposite of a laxative is. My view at the moment is the more I read the less good I get. Now you could say I am gaining an appropriate perspective from those that have gone or go before or you could say I am trying to be as good as them and failing and I should content with being totally me and failing. Not an easy one to solve? Thoughts?
I sense my readership for this blog is steadily diminishing – quite right too – bit like life – only joking – however this is not supported by the stats which show no change even after I have eliminated all my visits and the bogus hits from spammers. I achieve a readership of 3 – 24 per day. – remarkable really – so thanks a lot for bothering. Actually I am proud of this blog, not for any literary merit but for the fact that as far as I know I have not lied once. If I have, I go back and chop it out eg. I put up a picture in the quiz which wasn’t true. What I have done is not include as much offensive material as I would like. I am not sure my readership is ready for that. It’s locked safely away in my poems and concerns the period when I was a monster in the 70’s, and I am not exaggerating when I say monster. Me and my group of Swanley Comprehensive School mates should have gone to jail, and according to some of today’s laws some of us could still be there. Not me as it happens but not for want of trying.
It’s funny how obsessed I am with that period. Probably the worst, angriest and most frustrating period in my life. Oh the joy when I left school (forget having kids, getting married, getting the news that you r cancer can be treated – leaving that shit hole beats em all. LIE)
Tallies with the romantic cliché that artists need hardship to thrive – nah…)
Moving on (I really hope this isn’t one of delirious posts – apologies if it is) maybe I need the two key system for pressing the publish button, one for me and one from the commander in chief – anyway. – feeling good – not so good at beginning of week when new chemo course kicked in – I think you get used to it but then after a long break, 2 months in my case – when you go back your system says “Oh no not this shit again, I though we had done with that.’
Btw I have kept meaning to say that I think I am consistent about using initials to indicate people’s names rather than first names. This is out of respect for their privacy. As many of the comments I get are liberally splashed with full names, nickname and rude words this seems a tad contrived. If you wish to allow me to use you first name in reported conversations or e-mails can you let me know by sending a message ‘first name OK’ or just tell me.
Please continue to send me your news, but remember I don’t reciprocate by sending mine as it’s all up here. If you can’t face communicating with this boring, pompous bastard then communicate with M – sometime we feel a bit like we are in a bubble – self imposed of course – and hearing all your trivia and drivel makes us feel connected with the real world and more important than any of it.
Love and Peace