Showing posts with label BPI is evil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BPI is evil. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

The Tolerable and Efficacious Complaint: the idiots of industry

One of the great ironies of life: The minute you complain about someone's behavior heretofore pure you mimics that behavior. I discovered this in college and have allowed myself an unexamined mystification about same for many years. Why unexamined? I sense it's so clearly and universally fair; and I always hope I'll stop complaining.

Lo these many years later (yesterday) I was discussing a complaint-free and/or criticism-free life with a dear friend. We agreed it was alright to "complain" about BP and the oil leak, because such complaints came out of caring for the oceans. For the whole planet. Possibly for the questionable and shaky soul of civilization. Sorry. "Civilization."

While I want to avoid that dusty and or sludgy anger that helps no one, I am angry and critical of the unbelievable mismanagement, lies, cavalier capitalism, greed, cowardice, lack of imagination and lack of foresight that the idiots of industry wear--with pride as if their lies were Versace.

My favorite graffito in Manhattan shoots straight: Wake the fuck up. It dates from the Bush administration.

My complaint, shame and horror are wrought of love and many are feeling their, probably greater version, of compassion for life strangled, coated, glutted, strewn. Let's see how much love can heal. As for solipsistic me, I was told long ago by a female Lutheran minister that I have the gift of the believable compliment. May my gifts expand to the tolerable and efficacious complaint.

Monday, May 31, 2010

Eulogy? James Joyce on water. From *Ulysses*



The poet John Krick drew my attention to this passage from the final chapter of Joyce's Ulysses. The above photo is a before picture of the Gulf of Mexico.


What in water did Bloom, waterlover, drawer of water, watercarrier, returning to the range, admire?

Its universality: its democratic equality and constancy to its nature in seeking its own level: its vastness in the ocean of Mercator's projection: its unplumbed profundity in the Sundam trench of the Pacific exceeding 8000 fathoms: the restlessness of its waves and surface particles visiting in turn all points of its seaboard: the independence of its units: the variability of states of sea: its hydrostatic quiescence in calm: its hydrokinetic turgidity in neap and spring tides: its subsidence after devastation: its sterility in the circumpolar icecaps, arctic and antarctic: its climatic and commercial significance: its preponderance of 3 to 1 over the dry land of the globe: its indisputable hegemony extending in square leagues over all the region below the subequatorial tropic of Capricorn: the multisecular stability of its primeval basin: its luteofulvous bed: its capacity to dissolve and hold in solution all soluble substances including millions of tons of the most precious metals: its slow erosions of peninsulas and islands, its persistent formation of homothetic islands, peninsulas and downwardtending promontories: its alluvial deposits: its weight and volume and density: its imperturbability in lagoons and highland tarns: its gradation of colours in the torrid and temperate and frigid zones: its vehicular ramifications in continental lakecontained streams and confluent oceanflowing rivers with their tributaries and transoceanic currents, gulfstream, north and south equatorial courses: its violence in seaquakes, waterspouts, Artesian wells, eruptions, torrents, eddies, freshets, spates, groundswells, watersheds, waterpartings, geysers, cataracts, whirlpools, maelstroms, inundations, deluges, cloudbursts: its vast circumterrestrial ahorizontal curve: its secrecy in springs and latent humidity, revealed by rhabdomantic or hygrometric instruments and exemplified by the well by the hole in the wall at Ashtown gate, saturation of air, distillation of dew: the simplicity of its composition, two constituent parts of hydrogen with one constituent part of oxygen: its healing virtues: its buoyancy in the waters of the Dead Sea: its persevering penetrativeness in runnels, gullies, inadequate dams, leaks on shipboard: its properties for cleansing, quenching thirst and fire, nourishing vegetation: its infallibility as paradigm and paragon: its metamorphoses as vapour, mist, cloud, rain, sleet, snow, hail: its strength in rigid hydrants: its variety of forms in loughs and bays and gulfs and bights and guts and lagoons and atolls and archipelagos and sounds and fjords and minches and tidal estuaries and arms of sea: its solidity in glaciers, icebergs, icefloes: its docility in working hydraulic millwheels, turbines, dynamos, electric power stations, bleachworks, tanneries, scutchmills: its utility in canals, rivers, if navigable, floating and graving docks: its potentiality derivable from harnessed tides or watercourses falling from level to level: its submarine fauna and flora (anacoustic, photophobe), numerically, if not literally, the inhabitants of the globe: its ubiquity as constituting 90 percent of the human body: the noxiousness of its effluvia in lacustrine marshes, pestilential fens, faded flowerwater, stagnant pools in the waning moon.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Did Shakespeare Have Pet Monkeys. BPI & Halliburton. Blogging.

I have long suspected William Shakespeare housed several (interconnected and extended) families of monkeys in the old gray barn out back, there behind Playwright Alley, Stratford-on-Avon. And I am not alone in my insanity but write here only of myself.

And said monkeys were variously fed according to Mistress Shakespeare's many whims and provided with pens and quills and Elizabethan-appropriate paper. Then set to work. Day and night they scribbled.

Bananas were the joy of the Empire. The sun never set.

I know this because I had to summon the spirit of the Shakespeares' monkeys this very morning. I was called to My 3,000 Loving Arms to "approve" a comment on the Kerouac posting in April, and in my wanderings about my own blog unintentionally clicked "New Post." I thus embarked on writing this posting.

If there IS nothing new under the sun, life must have been more dreary in ye British Empire than we have previously been led to believe. And to think. Gwenyth Paltrow hadn't been born yet.

Can I detail the ways I dislike that woman? Sure but why bother. And I won't deny her skill as an actress.

Order in the court. A monkey wants to speak, and so on; not much of a threat to a monkey, is it. No wonder the sun did finally set. And thank goodness for that, as I was really tired.

The monkeys are indicating it is time for a wee bit of cuddling and nit picking. They don't seem capable of destroying generations of life and natural beauty in the Gulf of Mexico, do they? Ah, but the monkeys didn't do that.

Halliburton and BPI did. The monkeys, being willing to risk being monkeys, speak. "Shame and shame again," they say.

Our oceans are weeping. Our coastline is weeping. Fish and birds weep. Good souls weep.

Brother Shakespeare has written of the evil men and women. They end days with a sword in their vile heart. From his quill to God's ear. From God's heart to the damaged earth. Please.


(I'm glad I wrote this posting. Always say yes when you click, New Post.)