- 103.3 was playing the same bands they were playing 10-15 years ago: Stone Temple Pilots, Live, Quiet Riot, etc., etc. It's odd how in Iowa things stay the same. They don't of course...things in Iowa change...just much slower...it's as close to static as you're going to get.
- My in-law's new coffee maker...awesome!
- The wood burning stove in my parents' basement: very cozy.
- Younkers and the great new Fiestaware set Megan and I bought on sale: off-white.
- Zeno's pizza.
- Snow.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Thanksgiving Highlights
I went to Marshalltown this weekend for Thanksgiving. The highlights were:
Saturday, November 1, 2008
For You Tonight
Tonight all I have are bits:
Megan, the kids, and I watched Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. My son Gavin kept asking when somebody was going to get their eyes torn out by a bird. The Birds is pretty cool.
My Christmas wish: starting the day after Thanksgiving I want to watch a Christmas-themed movie every night leading up to Christmas. That ought to be fun!!! Home for the Holidays, Elf, Its a Wonderful Life, etc., etc. Any suggestions on Christmas movies? I need to fill up my Netflix que now so that I'm prepared.
"Your hair was long when we first met..." My sons both got their hair cuts this weekend. They both have fairly long hair. Elijah's hair is below his shoulders. Gavin's is shoulder length. Megan brought it up above their shoulders. Our kids are totally going to be skater punks. A few years ago we were at Loose Park in Kansas City. Elijah was 5. He was playing in a huge sand box with other kids. Some kid told him his favorite music was The Wiggles and asked Elijah "What's your favorite music." He nonchalantly says Bad Religion and keeps digging in the sand.
I like Beirut.
That's it...that's all I got.
But I've been using partial song lyrics for my blog post titles. So, here's some breadcrumbs that will help you name the artist for my Song-Lyric Title: this band's singer is, besides being super famous, also featured in The Pixies documentary Pixies. This one's pretty easy.
*
On Deck: Aesthetics #2...Oh yeah, I'm not finished yet and this time we're going to talk about Ted Kooser.
Megan, the kids, and I watched Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. My son Gavin kept asking when somebody was going to get their eyes torn out by a bird. The Birds is pretty cool.
My Christmas wish: starting the day after Thanksgiving I want to watch a Christmas-themed movie every night leading up to Christmas. That ought to be fun!!! Home for the Holidays, Elf, Its a Wonderful Life, etc., etc. Any suggestions on Christmas movies? I need to fill up my Netflix que now so that I'm prepared.
"Your hair was long when we first met..." My sons both got their hair cuts this weekend. They both have fairly long hair. Elijah's hair is below his shoulders. Gavin's is shoulder length. Megan brought it up above their shoulders. Our kids are totally going to be skater punks. A few years ago we were at Loose Park in Kansas City. Elijah was 5. He was playing in a huge sand box with other kids. Some kid told him his favorite music was The Wiggles and asked Elijah "What's your favorite music." He nonchalantly says Bad Religion and keeps digging in the sand.
I like Beirut.
That's it...that's all I got.
But I've been using partial song lyrics for my blog post titles. So, here's some breadcrumbs that will help you name the artist for my Song-Lyric Title: this band's singer is, besides being super famous, also featured in The Pixies documentary Pixies. This one's pretty easy.
*
On Deck: Aesthetics #2...Oh yeah, I'm not finished yet and this time we're going to talk about Ted Kooser.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Aesthetics
I’ve been reading Bernard Bosanquet’s translation of Hegel’s Introductory Lectures on Aesthetics recently. I read it back in 2002 but decided to revisit it and a few things have struck me so far. Hegel asserts that there are “two opposite ways of treating” the subject of aesthetics. I may be misreading Hegel but aesthetics appears to refer to “a knowledge of the essence of fine art” (17) or a philosophy of art or the science of what is beautiful (which does not include nature). Art includes painting, sculpting, music, poetry, etc. So I’m going to discuss Hegel’s Introductory Lectures on Aesthetics from a poetic perspective.
First, there is the development of theories that “govern both criticism and artistic production” (18, italics mine). These theories rely upon an extensive familiarity with classic and contemporary poetry, a vast knowledge of history, a vivid imagination to recall the varied forms, movements, etc. within classic and contemporary poetry. These theories lead to judgments which form tastes or personal preference. Hegel states that “it remains invariably the case that every man judges works of art…according to the measure of his insight and his feelings” (19). To put it another way, we develop theories based on our knowledge and our tastes, which informs our criticism of poetry and poetic production or what elements we believe should be part of the production of beautiful poetry. Perhaps it’s kind of like having a wealth of knowledge about Chili and arriving at what one believes to be the perfect recipe for Chili.
The second way of treating the subject of aesthetics is a general treatment of poetry that doesn’t touch on the particulars of poetry (language, craft, form, etc.) but is a more of an abstract philosophy of what is beautiful. This second means of treating aesthetics should transcend personal preference, taste, etc.
This leads me to something, or actually two specific things, that have pissed me off in the past few years. First, there was Billy Collins’ introduction to Best American Poetry 2006 as well as his comments at the Best American Poetry event at the
Secondly, there was Charles Wright’s introduction to the Best American Poetry 2008 in which Wright states: “I like things to make sense nowadays. Putting aside the nagging possibility that one man’s sense is another man’s sensibility, as the years wind down, I like a definitiveness in things, I want to understand them, even though I know there is precious little sense in earthly affairs (or unearthly ones, for that matter), and God knows not an unlit wick of understanding. Art is supposed, they say, to make sense out of the senseless, coherence out of the incoherent, and connections out of the unconnectible.” He goes onto to comment on the health of contemporary poetry: not a lot of bad poems, but not a lot of good ones (you can see more about this conversation on John Gallaher’s blog).
I was incensed at Billy Collins’ remarks. I was disappointed with Charles Wright’s comments. But after re-reading Hegel I started thinking that their comments are indicative of the theories they’ve developed regarding criticism and artistic production which have led to judgments about what should be in a poem or to use my chili metaphor what ingredients make the best possible chili. Their comments are not reflective of an abstract philosophy of what is beautiful. Their comments are reflective of personal taste…not truth.
Of course there’s going to be conflict between differing theories and Hegel admits as much by suggesting disputes will arise as to which theory is the essential theory. The error occurs when one confuses a practical theory of criticism and artistic production for an abstract philosophy of what is beautiful or vice versa which I think Wright does by articulating that "art is supposed, they say, to make sense out of the senseless..." which seems more like a function of art but the definitiveness of his comment seems to imply something much larger the function or a theory of criticism or artistic production. In addition, I think it’s egregious to believe there is one essential theory…after all haven’t Collins or Wright been to a chili cook off. I don’t like spicy chili but that doesn’t make spicy chili bad chili. Hell, I know people that like Hormel chili just fine. So, I don't know what I'm concluding other then the fact that perhaps anthologies suck unless they're truly like a good old fashioned chili cook off.
Weekend Update
Megan and I went to Metallica at the Spring Center. It was awesome. I'm not a big Metallica fan but it was one of my favorite concerts. They played a lot of older stuff. They made an effort to appeal to both the black album and post black album fans as well as appealing to their hard core fan base: those like my wife who has Kill 'Em All, Ride the Lightning, Master of Puppets, and ...And Justice for All but not Metallica or anything thereafter.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
This is The End of Everything
Goodbye cable. Goodbye E-Music. Goodbye...
*
Tonight I went to see Charles Simic read at the Midwest Poets Series at Rockhurst University. There was a guy next to me playing Who Wants To Be A Millionaire or something like it on his cell phone. There was a little round hairy fella behind me with a sack full of Charles Simic books who would read poems to himself and chuckle incessantly...not on cue I might add. And of course there was the individual who sat down behind me half way through the reading who smelled like sour milk and Mad Dog.
But besides the interesting people I felt like I should have been sitting on a big bear rug listening to Charles Simic tell stories: he sitting cross legged, sipping single malt, smoking a cigarette in front of a roaring fire; me sitting...listening, listening, listening. He had a very dry sense of humor. He was soft spoken. His poetry was dark and yet the imagery was often (not always) very original and disarming. But he was so soft spoken, or perhaps it was poor acoustics mixed with a small voice, made it difficult to focus and hear the poems. So, unfortunately I often found myself shifting in my seat in an attempt to retain some semblance of focus because when I did I was pleasantly surprised.
*
A few days ago when Megan and the kids let the dog out they discovered that both the front and back gates were open. Neither Megan nor the kids nor I left the gate open. The only possible reason for the open gate is that someone cut through our backyard between 11:30 pm and 6:00 am. That's a little disconcerting because we have a wooded area beyond our fence. Elijah conjectured that Hawkeye (our Boston Terrier) was not smart enough to open the gates. Gavin added that a "bunny" is too small to open the gates. I told them the only animal capable of opening the gates would be a werewolf. My son Elijah refused to close the gates. I'm a cruel father. My wife played into it later by suggesting she saw a werewolf in the woods. But then we both defused a possibly disastrous onslaught of fear by telling the kids there are no werewolf's and that we were only kidding.
*
Farkle scoreboard:
*
Bread crumbs for the song lyric title (or name that song or artist): he guest appeared as uncle Bob in the movie I watched tonight: That Thing You Do.
*
Tonight I went to see Charles Simic read at the Midwest Poets Series at Rockhurst University. There was a guy next to me playing Who Wants To Be A Millionaire or something like it on his cell phone. There was a little round hairy fella behind me with a sack full of Charles Simic books who would read poems to himself and chuckle incessantly...not on cue I might add. And of course there was the individual who sat down behind me half way through the reading who smelled like sour milk and Mad Dog.
But besides the interesting people I felt like I should have been sitting on a big bear rug listening to Charles Simic tell stories: he sitting cross legged, sipping single malt, smoking a cigarette in front of a roaring fire; me sitting...listening, listening, listening. He had a very dry sense of humor. He was soft spoken. His poetry was dark and yet the imagery was often (not always) very original and disarming. But he was so soft spoken, or perhaps it was poor acoustics mixed with a small voice, made it difficult to focus and hear the poems. So, unfortunately I often found myself shifting in my seat in an attempt to retain some semblance of focus because when I did I was pleasantly surprised.
*
A few days ago when Megan and the kids let the dog out they discovered that both the front and back gates were open. Neither Megan nor the kids nor I left the gate open. The only possible reason for the open gate is that someone cut through our backyard between 11:30 pm and 6:00 am. That's a little disconcerting because we have a wooded area beyond our fence. Elijah conjectured that Hawkeye (our Boston Terrier) was not smart enough to open the gates. Gavin added that a "bunny" is too small to open the gates. I told them the only animal capable of opening the gates would be a werewolf. My son Elijah refused to close the gates. I'm a cruel father. My wife played into it later by suggesting she saw a werewolf in the woods. But then we both defused a possibly disastrous onslaught of fear by telling the kids there are no werewolf's and that we were only kidding.
*
Farkle scoreboard:
- Gavin = 15
- Elijah = 13
- Me = 11
- Megan = 10
*
Bread crumbs for the song lyric title (or name that song or artist): he guest appeared as uncle Bob in the movie I watched tonight: That Thing You Do.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Last Night He Could Not Make It
he tried hard but he could not make it...so tonight he will (this last part is mine).
*
I finished David Kirby's The Temple Gate Called Beautiful last night. This was my first Kirby book. Kirby's poetry is "talky" and is similar to Albert Golbarth. I'm not really sure what to do with some "talky" poetry and in Kirby's case I enjoyed a few poems, including the title poem, but found myself getting completely lost in the 3-5, 5-7 page poems that were littered with one literary or artistic or historical reference after another. I often felt like I do when I watch Go Diego, Go with my son Brayden...1/3 paying attention, 1/3 amused, and 1/3 nodding off. Now, I know this isn't entirely fair to Mr. Kirby which is why I've ordered 3 more of his books to get a broader perspective because there were moments I laughed and had fun reading his poems so I'm trying to be pragmatic about it. Perhaps it's Kirby's barrage of artistic/literary references and a landscape that feels entirely irrelevant, and quite frankly, academic, that makes it more difficult to engage.
I have to add that I'm not adverse to "talky" poetry. I feel that Paul Guest, Bob Hicock, and Jason Bredle (these are just a few examples from what I've read in the past 12-18 months) work in "talky" modes but with very different typographies. And in the case of Jason Bredle, I often find myself euphoric, happy, etc. after I read one of his poems. I feel like I'm taking a cross country trip but taking state highways, especially the two lane highways in CO (a little treacherous but very scenic) instead of the interstates, and as a result, I witness a lot of the nuisances of the human experience that I would never noticed if I had just hoped on I-35 and headed north to Des Moines (you know, point to A to point B, point B to point C). BJ has a great description, which is probably more apt, of the often rewarding journey Bredle's poetry takes the reader on.
Thus, I would rate (on the Netflix rating scale of course) David Kirby's The Temple Gate Called Beautiful as a 2 1/2 stars out of 5, which is somewhere between "I don't like it" and "I like it." Ultimately, I may need to read the book again.
I always feel awkward and guilty being semi-critical of a poet. Should I???
*
Farkle scoreboard:
*
Bread crumbs for the song lyric: the birth place of Demi Moore. Now you can try to guess the song lyric.
*
I finished David Kirby's The Temple Gate Called Beautiful last night. This was my first Kirby book. Kirby's poetry is "talky" and is similar to Albert Golbarth. I'm not really sure what to do with some "talky" poetry and in Kirby's case I enjoyed a few poems, including the title poem, but found myself getting completely lost in the 3-5, 5-7 page poems that were littered with one literary or artistic or historical reference after another. I often felt like I do when I watch Go Diego, Go with my son Brayden...1/3 paying attention, 1/3 amused, and 1/3 nodding off. Now, I know this isn't entirely fair to Mr. Kirby which is why I've ordered 3 more of his books to get a broader perspective because there were moments I laughed and had fun reading his poems so I'm trying to be pragmatic about it. Perhaps it's Kirby's barrage of artistic/literary references and a landscape that feels entirely irrelevant, and quite frankly, academic, that makes it more difficult to engage.
I have to add that I'm not adverse to "talky" poetry. I feel that Paul Guest, Bob Hicock, and Jason Bredle (these are just a few examples from what I've read in the past 12-18 months) work in "talky" modes but with very different typographies. And in the case of Jason Bredle, I often find myself euphoric, happy, etc. after I read one of his poems. I feel like I'm taking a cross country trip but taking state highways, especially the two lane highways in CO (a little treacherous but very scenic) instead of the interstates, and as a result, I witness a lot of the nuisances of the human experience that I would never noticed if I had just hoped on I-35 and headed north to Des Moines (you know, point to A to point B, point B to point C). BJ has a great description, which is probably more apt, of the often rewarding journey Bredle's poetry takes the reader on.
Thus, I would rate (on the Netflix rating scale of course) David Kirby's The Temple Gate Called Beautiful as a 2 1/2 stars out of 5, which is somewhere between "I don't like it" and "I like it." Ultimately, I may need to read the book again.
I always feel awkward and guilty being semi-critical of a poet. Should I???
*
Farkle scoreboard:
- Gavin = 14
- Elijah = 13
- Me = 11
- Megan = 9
*
Bread crumbs for the song lyric: the birth place of Demi Moore. Now you can try to guess the song lyric.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
The Government Supplies Her Cocaine
Bits:
- I finished Matthea Harvey's Sad Little Breathing Machine this morning. If I was rating it on a Netflix scale I would say 3 out of 5 or "I liked it." But this is a very deceiving rating because when I finished I was left wanting more...more Matthea. Fortunately, I'm also finishing up Modern Life which, so far, is a 4 1/2 out of 5 which would be between "I really liked it" and "I loved it" on the Netflix rating system. I'll probably read both again soon because something about her poetry mystifies me.
- I got rejected by The Journal today but it was a nice rejection with a little note from the editors, as opposed to a standard rejection slip. I only have a few outstanding submissions...and then I'm done for a while. BJ on the other hand just got a couple poems accepted. Congratulations BJ.
- I'm forcing myself to read Ted Kooser: I've tried to read Delights and Shadows twice and failed both times. This time I will get through it. I want to be well read, even reading poets I don't necessarily like. I once read a poet's (RC) book and quite literally hated it to the extent that I threw it down on the ground. What did I do next? I bought 2 more of RC's books and read them just to give RC a fair shake. I hated the other 2 books even more than the first. But at least I read them.
- I've started reading Paula Cisewski's Upon Arrival and Bill Rasmovicz's The World In Place of Itself.
- I'm going to miss Hadara Bar-Nadav reading at the Writer's Place tomorrow night which makes me very sad.
- My kids are going camping this weekend.
- I won the "Family Farkle Game" tonight. I had a streak of winning 0 of the first 24 games we played over the past 2 months. I've caught up though:
- Gavin = 14
- Elijah = 12
- Megan = 9
- Me = 9
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