Dusty Dog Reviews The whole project is hip, anti-academic, the poetry of reluctant grown-ups, picking noses in church. An enjoyable romp! Though also serious. |
Nick DiSpoldo, Small Press Review (on Children, Churches and Daddies, April 1997) Children, Churches and Daddies is eclectic, alive and is as contemporary as tomorrows news. |
The republican talk radio shows (you know, with the Rush Limbaughs and the Shawn Hannitys of the world) always talk about the liberal media. I know Scars Publications is a part of the media (so to speak), and I dont think Children, Churches and Daddies is really liberal. But when it comes to broadcast journalism, television in particular, we need to objectively ask: is the media liberal, and if so why?
Before the election, CBS media got in trouble for not checking its sources about the legitimacy of President Bushs past military experience. They were even documented as saying that they may not have had the guarantees for the legitimacy of their story, but they went with it anyway, because if it wasnt right, there were other problems with Bush, because, well, they thought he was wrong for the country.
And on election day, they would poll people leaving the booths to see how they voted, and their returns indicated that Kerry was in the lead.
When they saw that their post-voting polling wasnt accurate, they found that the people looking for results asked mostly women, which may have slanted the vote toward Kerry.
I mean Hell, even fake news shows like the Daily Show seem to revel in their hatred of the Republican Party, and every audience member there praises anything to do with Democrats like Kerry. They would interview conservative politicians, and they would occasionally even get boos form the audience during their interviews.
And I was thinking about this, and I thought about the fact that Bush won a good majority of the states, so I started to think that maybe the media is liberal. So the next question I have to ask is, why.
Well, the first reason Id guess for the media touting liberal ideas would be that they were appealing to what people wanted to hear. Makes sense, because in order to keep people listening, they will report the news and theyll also report what people want to hear.
That make sense to me, but...
But if more people voted for Bush, then I would think that more people wouldnt want to hear all of these views of how wonderful Kerry was.
So then I pulled back to think about this.
Then, I pulled way back. All the way back to looking at the entire country. I looked at the states that had a strong pull for Kerry, versus a strong pull for Bush.
And the thing I noticed was that the Democratic states were states with major cities. Illinois (holding Chicago) went to Kerry. And yeah, living in the Chicago area, Id go to regular poetry open mics and hear people talk about their utter hatred for Bush. And yeah, the other bigger city players were Democratic states New York and California both went to Kerry.
Hmm. Okay, so what can that tell me? Keep looking, Janet, and think about what these urban areas have in common and how they effect the government.
Hmm.
Wait, an idea is growing in my head. Let me think this through: Democrats want to expand government programs, and helping to poor, which usually mean more taxes. But who can afford that? Maybe the people who make more money, in the cities, who have to contend with more poor people around and want to give them some sort of relief so... So these poor people arent in the way of the rich city-dwellers, working and making money.
No, that cant be it.
I know this is my editorial, but stop being so opinionated, Janet.
Hmm.
Okay. Ill get back to thinking more objectively here. Sorry.
I think Ive got it, but bear with me on this one.
Consider that people in the major cities (like Chicago, or New York, or L.A.) contend with poor people and want to see something done to help them. It may mean more taxes, but this will help these people, and they are willing to pay something extra to help these people out. And heck, if everyone is willing to pitch in just a little, wed all help and make things better for people in need.
Wow. For a second I felt like I was talking for some relief fund for the starving Ethiopians (or Ethernopians, as Stan Marsh of South Park calls them), and not for people in the United States. (Did I sound like I was from the Red Cross or something when I wrote that last paragraph?)
But that might be a good argument. If people can give money to help people in trouble for other things (poor people in Third World countries, or peole caught in Florida hurricanes who lost their homes), people could be willing to help the needy poor people of this country. And the Democratic Party has become quite the altruistic party, wanting people to give to help other people.
The comforting thing, however, is that the majority of this country doesnt like giving up their belongings without getting anything in return. The majority of people in this country know that just handing money to people does not help them get out of their problems, because government-granted money should only be a temporary solution to peoples problems, to help them get on their feet and start creating and producing on their own again.
You know, I dont really know if thats what the majority of people think. I know thats what I think, and I just hope that many other people think that way too.
And of the two arguments I posed for why the big city states are liberal, I really prefer to think that the second reason is more accurate.
But then that leaves me with the question I had at the beginning of this editorial: if weve inferred that the media is liberal, then we have to ask why.
Hmm. Let me think.
Let me think of where the media comes from.
California. And New York.
Two liberal states.
Do you think the media, stemming from liberal states, could be so objective that it would ignore what it sees all around it like homeless people trying to get a meal while these broadcast journalists are trying to commute to work at the television station? Like seeing people resorting to drugs and alcohol because theyve got nothing else, and what little cash they can get is not enough for a new suit for an interview they cant get for their dream job?
Do you think these people, who commute (possibly in a gas-guzzling expensive SUV) from their nice city flat to their nice city job, see these destitute people daily and want to help them?
You know, to make this world a better place?
Do you think these people would see the squalor and see that there is a political option that would help these people out, through the Democratic Party?
Hmm. Now that Im thinking about this line of thinking for the media being more liberal, the more Im getting this idea.
But I guess the thing that bothers me about the notion of the liberal media is that a select few locations can decide the way all major (or network) television news leans (instead of being even and just news). And yeah, weve also got newspapers and magazines to get news from, but the other problem is that were a bunch of Stupid Americans, and its a Hell of a lot easier for us to get the news from turning on the free news from our television instead of paying for print media and actually having to read it.
Cause reading the news, is, like, work.
So the thing that bugs me is that most people get their news from the liberal news, and people assume its not biased, and people almost accept it as the world of God. Do we want people assuming these slanted views are affects of true reporting? Do we want people drawing their conclusions about our world form these slanted views?
Can anyone make an informed decision about anything when they dont receive all if the information objectively?
Janet Kuypers
Editor in Chief
When I asked Erskine Caldwell, author of over fifty novels, at one time most read American author in Russia, where he was born he said: Well, I was born, let me put it that way. At the time of my interview, he was author in residence at Dartmouth. Not long after that he passed away, but I never forgot how his discussions were usually about regular people in small towns.
There was something about what he said that carried me back to my birth, in a border town, on the Main Street of ten thousand citizens between Minnesota and North Dakota. My Grandfather, brought up there as a child, owned businesses, worked all his life, and never took a vacation from Main Street. My uncles lived on the Minnesota Main Street eulogized by Sinclair Lewis in his novel Main Street.
I never gave much thought about the idea of Main Street until coming back, from military service overseas, attending colleges, working from west to east coast and then trying to find a place I could call home. Memories of working as a teenager, shining shoes and selling popcorn, are gone now, fadded like memories of my high school classmates. Not much memory remains of the dozen states I lived in but one thing stays.
In the Midwest, the south, north country or the east coast, I have always lived on Main Street. My place, my home is where everything is going on all the time. Main Street, USA, is window of the world. I feel close to Caldwell, Lewis and others who have a sense of place. And I understand why people need to demonstrate their feelings, here, where all Americans need to go when they congregate.
Periodically we might ask ourselves: where are we going?
What is actually different from the life around us half a century ago? How does that difference affect the way we live and, should we be concerned to the point where we decide to do something about it? When I was approaching teenage, we never thought about boundaries From sun up to sun down, in Northern Minnesota, outside our small town area, we explored the forests and rivers. The single-shot 22, birthday present my dad gave me at 12, never killed anything I remember.
Much later, where I taught school in West Virginia, boys of 12 knew the woods as home. Keith Roberts killed his own deer, with his grandfather's rifle and brought it out of the woods. That self-reliance does something for a boy nothing else can. It gets at the heart of the difference between man and woman. One hunts, brings home the bacon. Now, in Vermont, it gets to a point where parents are paranoid about their youngsters, especially a girl, going for a walk in the woods. The mystery of a young girl killed, jogging in Heartland, has never been solved. Yearly, something similar happens in Vermont. Self-protection is never guaranteed.
You are out for a stroll, alone or with your significant other. An angry dog, frightened, sees you as too close to his property. Before he has his teeth in you, mace or pepper spray, directed near him, has him going the other way. Postman or walker, you are your own homeland security. Anything else is fictional. As an American, Vermonter or anyone else, only you are responsible for your safety and survival. My rifle made me feel secure as a boy; boxing in the service, learning martial arts, all gave me a sense of security but not total security. Even more important is avoiding places, or people, of unnecessary risk. Despite movies or TV, the choice is up to me.
Okay, Id like to take a little poll. Who out there values the fact that we have freedom of speech in the United States?
Okay, we probably all like that, or else we wouldnt get together as a bunch of artists and poets and writers. So Ill ask the next question in our poll: Do you like the fact that the U.S. Government is so involved with newspaper stories that it approves all newspaper articles published?
Well wait, that doesnt happen. Especially when people have deduced how liberal the media is, when the government oozes so much Republicanism. So I guess that freedom of speech thing adheres to newspapers as well, and thats probably a good thing, because people can read a variety of viewpoints and come to their own conclusions.
Um, good thing teens dont read the newspaper often. Because only half of our teens believe (according to the the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation and the University of Connecticuts $1 million, two year-long survey) that newspapers should be able to publish stories that did not have the governments approval.
Yes, we need big brother to approve our stories before we publish them in newspapers, to make sure they ... to make sure they what? Make sure they dont cause a panic, or a riot? Or to make sure they dont make people think?
The BBC news reported that according to this survey a significant number of US high-school students regard their constitutional right to freedom of speech as excessive. And Over a third ... felt the First Amendment went too far in guaranteeing freedom of speech, press, worship and assembly.
This survey even concluded that a lot of teens (falsely) believed the Government had the right to censor the internet and about two thirds of the teens polled falsely believed that burning the U.S. flag was illegal
MSNBC reported via an AP article that teens seem to even have a more censorial and restrictive in their views than elders, as only 87% of teens polled, versus 99% of adults polled, felt that people should be allowed to express unpopular views.
Wow, that 13% of teens better not get in our way, we might express something they dont like.
But thats okay, we let them have the right to voice their opinions. Thats the American Way.
The survey results reflected an indifference to the First Amendment, as teens seems to think it was no big deal. The director of the Journalism Education Association, said in the report that this all comes at a time when there is decreasing passion for much of anything.
And you know, they may be right. People do seem to be dispassionate nowadays. Teens have become detached after being a product of the MTV generation, and after playing so many video games for so many hours of the day instead of caring about the news. or what happens around them.
I mean Hell, if they dont have anything to say, maybe they dont mind losing their rights.
The sad thing is that teens seem to take free speech for granted, which seems to reflect the way the Republican party has taught everyone to think after 9/11. Consider that after Bin Laden taught people who hated American to learn to fly airplanes to the could hijack them and drive them into economic and governmental buildings (iconic representations of the United States). After the morning of September 11th, President George Bush was determined to find a way to stop this from happening again which, for him, included the Patriot Act, which expands the ability of states and the Federal Government to conduct surveillance of American citizens, and isnt limited to terrorism. Greg Downing wrote in A Historical Argument Against the Patriot Act, that under the Patriot Act anyone suspected of terrorist affiliations can be arrested and detained without solid evidence to prove their affiliations. It even allows foreign and domestic intelligence agencies to more easily spy on Americans. The Patriot Act authorizes the use of sneak and peek search warrants. According to The Nation, The Patriot Act was so named to imply that those who question its sweeping new powers of surveillance, detention and prosecution are traitors. But PBS Frontline even noted that since its inception, the Patriot Act has come under harsh criticism from both the political left and the right as a threat to Americans rights as guaranteed by the Constitution and Bill of Rights.
I know Im going on. Ill stop. But I could name more...
Either way, Americans all felt the need to fly and continue their work on their own terms after 9/11, despite the threat of terrorist takeover of their airplanes. Americans were willing to take longer at airports for security reasons, even though some have found that women get their body physically checked more often. I mean, I had to lose a pair of cuticle clippers because I was nearsighted enough to not realize that they could be used as a violent weapon on a flight back from Hawaii. But well deal with these things, to ensure our safety.
I think Ive said this before, but people have claimed that they were willing to relinquish their freedoms to ensure their safety.
Which leads me to the Benjamin Franklin quote:
The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either.
So where does that lead us? To hope for our rights that people keep taking away from us? To continue to write, to voice our opinions, to be heard? Weve been letting free speech slide, like were on a toboggan ride on a snowy hillside in the dead of a February winter. Can we put our feet out to the sides, to try to stop this ride before it gets too fast and we hit the bottom?
Janet Kuypers
Editor in Chief
WASHINGTON, DC (January 21, 2005) -- If President Bush really wants to spread freedom around the world, as he said in his inaugural address, he should start by setting an example right here in the United States, Libertarians say. Bush used the words free, freedom or liberty 49 times in his 21-minute speech on Thursday as he laid out an ambitious agenda that includes spreading democracy and freedom with the ultimate goal of ending tyranny in our world.
Freedom, like charity, begins at home, said Joseph Seehusen, executive director of the Libertarian Party. Unfortunately George Bush has given America a lot more government -- and a lot less freedom -- over the past four years. Were challenging him to change course in his second term and set Americans free.
Though Bush refrained from targeting particular governments, six outposts of tyranny named earlier by secretary of state nominee Condoleezza Rice include Belarus, Burma, Cuba, Iran, North Korea and Zimbabwe.
Yes, setting people in other nations free from dictators is a laudable goal, Seehusen said. But George Bush wasnt elected President of the World, he was elected president of the United States, and his first obligation is to improve the lives of the American people.
Unfortunately, Americans are less free economically than when Bush was elected in 2000, Libertarians point out. Over the past four years Bush and the Republican-controlled Congress have teamed up to pass the largest expansion of Medicare in U.S. history, authored the most expensive education bill ever, squandered more than $300 billion on an unnecessary war in Iraq; increased the federal budget to a mind-boggling $2.2 trillion and propelled the national debt to $7.3 trillion, Seehusen noted.
Every dollar confiscated by politicians is a dollar that Americans cant spend to pay medical bills, to send their child to college or to plan their retirement, he said. While military security is vital, economic security is important as well -- and the president can protect it by reducing the crushing burden of government.
Besides, as Iraq demonstrates, toppling a tyrant and establishing democracy in even one nation is extremely difficult, while bringing more freedom to the United States is relatively easy, he noted.
On November 2, Republicans increased their majority in both the House and Senate, which means Mr. Bush has a huge opportunity to impose his agenda, Seehusen said.
With that in mind, Libertarians are issuing a modest challenge for the pro-freedom presidents second term: Eliminate just one major federal program; submit a no-growth budget for the next fiscal year; sell off one piece of federal property and use the money to reduce the national debt; or tear just 100 pages out of the 70,000-page Federal Register.
Mr. Bush, taking any of those actions would prove to the American people that your passionate inaugural address wasnt just empty rhetoric, Seehusen said. After all, if freedom is good enough for people in Belarus, Burma, Cuba, Iran, North Korea and Zimbabwe, its good enough for people right here in the USA.
IRVINE, CA (Monday, December 20, 2004_ Recent manipulations by conservative groups have demonstrated with unique clarity that the FCCs power stands in opposition to freedom of speech, said Dr. Robert Garmong, a senior writer for the Ayn Rand Institute.
The FCC establishes federal censorship over the airwaves, via its standards of decency, argues Dr. Garmong. Those judged to violate standards of decency can be slapped with multi-million-dollar fines, and potentially even lose their broadcasting licenses. The FCC has responded that it does not impose its own standards, but merely responds to complaints from the public.
But the to-be-expected result is that any and every pressure group will clamor for the title of the publicso that it can ram its views down the throats of the rest of us. News that 99.8 percent of recent complaints to the FCC comes from a single conservative activist group, the Parents Television Council, should come as no surprise.
Free speech means the right to say what one believes, to any audience that is willing to hear it. It is not the right to say only that which is popular with the government, with any particular interest group, or with the majority of the public. But as long as there is a federal agency with the ultimate power over what is on the broadcast media, free speech is at the mercy of the most vociferous political groups. This means, in practice, that the FCC stands in stark opposition to Americans first amendment right to free speech.
Freedom of speech may be a reality in this country only when we abolish the FCC, with its dictatorial power over the media.
Dr. Robert Garmong, a senior writer for the Ayn Rand Institute, is available for interviews on this topic.
I ajustou uma vez o fogo a minha unha. Eu quis meu dedo ser uma vela humana. Deixou cair um outro fósforo em seu vidro. A flama sizzled nas gotas da bebida no fundo. Golpeou um outro fósforo no lado da caixa. Fósforos da cozinha. Seis ou sete colocam no napkin do cocktail, dez mais no fundo do vidro. Em uma cabine de canto, neste clube pequeno a flama que despertou olhado como toda a outra luz da tabela. Mas o clube era dela. Possuiu-a os pés no banco, joelhos dobrados. Tudo lá focalizou nela e na parte pequena de energia que prendeu. Tudo lá era dela a abusar. E ela struch um outro fósforo. uma flama velha usou-se dizer que todos é um pyro no coraç#227;o. E blushed. yeah, eu ajustei minha unha no fogo enquanto eu estava falando a alguém. Era um prego falsificado. O plástico ardente cheirou. Mas eu não realizei o que eu tinha feito até que eu senti o calor em minha pele. Apenas então você poderia ver a flama dançr em seu fingertip. Agitou o fósforo. Deixou-o cair em seu vidro.
IRVINE, CA (Thursday, December 23, 2004) --The attempts around the country to eliminate the term Christmas are being perpetrated largely in the name of political correctness--to avoid offending anyone, particularly Muslims, whose beliefs would exclude them from any Christmas celebrations.
These efforts represent, not secularism, says Dr. Yaron Brook, executive director of the Ayn Rand Institute, but the standard liberal, subjectivist philosophy of multiculturalism, which seeks to prohibit any offensive actions and words--and it is a philosophy that should be denounced.
Christmas can be celebrated as an entirely secular holiday, Dr. Brook maintains, and public schools should therefore be permitted to do so. The prohibition against the endorsement of religion by governmental entities, however, is an entirely different matter according to Dr. Brook: It is a Constitutional issue of separation of church and state. While public schools may celebrate Christmas, they have no right to make it into a religious observance, by featuring explicitly religious themes like the Nativity.
The essential point that needs to be emphasized in this issue, Dr. Brook concludes, is that the separation of church and state is a principle that is not synonymous with the politically correct notion of showing sensitivity to everyones beliefs. The government may--and should--engage in actions that offend certain viewpoints, such as the viewpoints that are hostile to freedom and individual rights; government must, however--in order to preserve freedom and individual rights--refrain from supporting religion.
Dr. Yaron Brook, president of the Ayn Rand Institute, is available for interviews on this topic. on this topic.
IRVINE, CA (Wednesday, October 27, 2004) --If the majority of Americans voted for a Christian democracy or a Jewish democracy or an Islamic democracy, i.e., a theocracy, in this country, would you accept it? asks Dr. Andrew Bernstein, a senior writer for the Ayn Rand Institute. The answer is not just a choice between unlimited majority rule and the First Amendments prohibition against the establishment of religion. Those who advocate unlimited majority rule, says Bernstein, not only endanger the First Amendment, they threaten all our freedoms and the very foundations on which this country is built.
America is not a democracy, i.e., an unlimited majority rule system; it is a constitutionally limited republic. And the primary limiter is individual rights. All of our freedoms, such as freedom of speech, freedom of religion and freedom of the press, are necessary conditions required to exercise our inalienable rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It does not matter what the majority wants, individual rights come first; the majority, no matter its number or religion, may not vote to ignore, take away or violate anyones individual rights.
Dr. Andrew Bernstein, a senior writer for the Ayn Rand Institute, is available for interviews.
There are certain points in a life which a person reaches when the wisdom of sages is whats required. During these times of crisis, metaphorical forks in the path of life if you will, one may find a sympathetic ear helpful--or yes on occassion other sympathetic parts may likewise come in handy.
That said, there is also the simple human desire to know. The desire to have a question answered, gap in knowledge filled, a warm and stirring tale spun to comfort and quiet the questing soul....
For both of these occasions and more, the humble writer of these words presents the admonition to seek professional help.
And now, preliminaries out of the way, let us to the matter at hand: the perfect manhattan.
5 capfuls sweet vermouth (yes use the cap of the vermouth bottle)
3 oz bourbon
twist of orange peel
over 3 ice cubes in an old-fashioned glass stirred gently
Its on my second manhattan that the wheels really start whirring, juices flowing, wisdom fairly dripping from the lips. (Its either wisdom or spittle, usually spittle.)
The first question comes from a troubled youth (and really, arent they all?). The youth in trouble writes:
This sucks, like cant you write anything else? You sound like a dork. -- A. Ebdeson, Racine Wis.
I see, so youre feeling poorly. You must be experiencing some of that seasonal affective disorder weve been hearing so much about. Listen, why dont you do what I do when I need a quick pick-me-up? First direct your web browser of choice over to Google News. Next type in loose weight and hit search. Now sit back and chuckle smugly at all of the poor fools whose business it is to work with words and yet who ironically forget the difference between lose and loose. Finally, go on about your day feeling refreshed and recharged. If this gets old, switch it up with win or loose. Feel free to find your own phrase that pays. Be creative! Yes its juvenile and yes its petty but really noone gets hurt and theres nothing better for a quick ego boost than mocking other peoples spelling. Hmm, petty, juvenile ego-boosting...throw in making money and isnt that pretty much the majority of internet usage today anyway?
Before I adjourn to the parlour for a drink refresher, I believe I have time for another question, this from the Southern region of our fair land:
My boss overheard me cussing out a client on the phone and now I think shes going to fire me. But I dont get it. In the office we talk to each other like that all the time with f-bombs a flying and she never said anything about that. I feel like shes got a double-standard and I should call her out for being a hypocrit [sic], but I dont want to tick her off anymore than she already is. What should I do? -- Troy Stalnaker, Garland Tex.
I think of profanity like cheese. Certainly while there are some highly prized cheeses which happen to be quite odiferous, these are an acquired taste and appreciated by only a few brave souls. Most of the populace are of the more timid nature and prefer their fromage to range from mild to medium in smell. If youre throwing a dinner party you dont get the really powerful cheeses unless you are absolutely sure that everyone is in love with them. Likewise, unless you know who it is on the other end of the line and what their tolerance level is for profanity, you just cant go spewing out whatever obscenity comes to mind. This is probably what your boss is upset about, you insensitive bastard.
If you have a question for the Two Manhattan Advice Column, e-mail or snail-mail it to cc&d, and your question could be in a future column.
wild with starlight
(mangled, unfolding)
fear cracks open like december,
a million trees under diverging sky
overhead and below the noise quietly retracts
survival is buried deeply inside
the thin line connecting ocean to horizon
whatever crimes I have committed,
whatever larcenies, trespasses,
now holding you is trying to catch the wind with a butterfly net.
the hours/days churn in the cement mixer of
time, you subside,
slip out of view, leave no fingerprints
only a note pinned on my body to teach me
a lesson. I wake
and read it:
Michelle,
this is how you live when nothing has
a container, when you live like liquid and do everything
to hide it.
written in 2001. Previously published in the chapbook Free Swim.
I thought I had woken up,
each time the last time. Steady thunderstorm: every time, more horrid than the last time,
grandiose visions of clouds falling away.
And so the ocean was a failure, waves crashing
like
fists upon the battered shore.
written in 2001
I dial Time of Day
just to hear voices
other than my own.
Nights empty.
No new exciting stars
on TV
or discovered by astronomers.
So much less space
to get lost in.
I might hire an extra
hand to hold for company
I can comfortably
afford to keep.
Meanwhile my double and I
chat in the mirror
where I meet myself
coming and going
crazy.
Shadows snuggle up.
They know what's safe
when the wind is wild
dancing with dust
collectors who talk
conversation pieces
into revealing their secret selves.
Suddenly an unruly rogue
gust putting on airs
of innocence sweeps in
like an uninvited guest
knocks over a lamp
grabs my pocket book
tearing out pages
in a jealous rage
and for no rhyme or reason
twirls them out
the open window.
Nothing in these snapshots
need ever develop.
What once was will never be
again. Smiles stay the same,
your caught on that beach
whose surf is still breaking
hearts.
Ghosts float from negatives
to my dark room
as I turn back time
on the black pages of the album
in which your pictures are pasted.
We spent that summer
like millionaires
burning hours together
like pocket money
in the sun.
I focus on your face
fogged by the film of years
that exposed ecstasy for a moment
in the instamatic wink
of that now dead day.
He hated his skin like a resentful child hates an abusive parent
He often walked the village envying the skins of others
He was jealous
He was bitter
He was trapped in this skin that abused his soul
Then one day he awoke to a skinless body
He had shed
He felt so free
He walked onto the front steps of his cottage and shouted for joy
He could be heard throughout the planet
His release triggered the shedding of all human existence
Skin, flesh and confusion, laced with distraught fear, gripped the globe, affecting all but him
He picked one off the ground
It didnt fit
He tried on several other skins
None fit
As many as he had tried on, none would fit his frame
Face skin too long and narrow
A simple smile and it would break down the middle
Shoulder and arm skin too broad
It fit like a coat
Stomach skin so vast from obesity it touched the ground as he stood
Leg skin so potentially constricting the skin bursts before he could put his whole limb of flesh in
Years and years he would spend trying on skins
He found several generic matches, but there were still too many subtle difficulties
Toes, fingers, crotch, facial features, running
He felt he would never find one that truly fit,
Until he had circled the globe and was now looking at the back of his cottage
He walked upon it and didnt even recognize it
The door was open and welcoming, so he went in to see what he could find.
He took two steps inside and noticed a door to the right
There was a bedroom
In the bed he saw skin
He had a special feeling about it as he stared upon it
He put it on
It was a perfect fit
He had finally found the skin that fit like his very own did
I
les confédérés gagnent la bataille
mais je sais que le nord gagnera la guerre
et tout quils obtiendront est a ravaged le champ de bataille
II
une guerre civile fait rage à lintérieur de moi
mais je suis fatigué du combat den dedans
quand tous que je veux est une révolution
Hunting in the Cascade Mtns, in the desert,
in the arid Columbia Basin, in the Mexican
Supermarkets in Odessa, Othello, Sprague,
the littered-w.-wrecks Spokane Indian Res-
ervation, the pony spacey loquacious Col-
ville Indian Res. just N. of the concrete
Grand Coulee Dam, w. its blinking green
night running lights
hunting for you
for your big smile
for your big dark hair
your big throaty chortle
Yr big smile -- ennobles
Yr big hair teases (you like to suck on its tails
when running the machine alone
-- 3 a.m.)
Yr big chortles lift my spirits unexpectantly
(its soo-o big!!)
Yr keyboard work, yr frets, high-laced boots,
(yr tongue, yr pedal-to-the-medal
sexy, yr lips when you pointedly
pucker them)
yr booming bass, alto, tremolo
thrill-soprano to me heart
(yr franko complexities + possibilities)
I want ya to listen to these songs on this tape --
theyre my new composition...
Sometimes we are driven to go to the raw edge of of a sharp and dangerous nowhere. My risk taking adolescent soul (at this age still!) recently drove me to the medieval walled Muslim city of Harar, in Eastern Ethiopia. Harar was where the Victorian British explorer Sir Richard Burton managed to penetrate in the disguise of an Arab trader. If he had been discovered, he would have been killed; in my opinion, the only way to crash a party. The other famous outlaw to visit Harar was the 19th century French poet, Arthur Rimbaud.
For me, Rimbauds poetry is like a series of letters written to all who are outcast and damned. One of the last places Rimbaud lived was in Harar, where the residents easily live on the raw edge of the bleak and the moribund. Perhaps that is why so many of them are chewing the narcotic leaf, chat. Inside the walled city, there is an endless shuffle of nervy fish-eyed folk. Few people seem to work. For many, the occupation seems to be making their souls widler, untamed, peripatetic. Perhaps that is why a man feeds raw meat to the hyenas outside of the citys walls each night. Sure, thats how he makes his living; by collecting about ten dollars from each tourist brought there by the taxi drivers. But I would also like to think that the hyena man feeds those not-so scrawny spotted creatures as a way to bring the wilderness closer to the citys walls, and at the same time, bottle up more of the nervy energy and restlessness of a population that makes chewing chat a top priority.
My priority was to witness the hyena feeding. To do this I went to the main square and asked a taxi driver about this ritual. A crowd of skinny teenage boys mobbed me. One of them quickly established himself as my guide. After we negotiated the fee for himself, the taxi driver, and the hyena man, we drove through the narrow and hilly streets of Harar; streets where women brushed by the old baby blue, fin-tailed Peugot taxi while balancing a one hundred or more pound burlap bag of coffee on their head with one hand. Streets where emaciated goats and lethargic rib-cagedd dogs lay half dead in the middle of the rocky lane, and not getting up for any taxi. Perhaps these animals knew that the local drivers never struck anyone; in spite of how fast and close they drove to houses, objects, and people. Finally, we left the walled city. We are in the beginning of the desert. We stop at a stucco-like shack--where the Hyena man lives.
We are early. The Hyena man is slicing raw meat into a bucket from which he will later feed the hyenas. In the meantime, the Hyena mans family invite me into his home--a traditional Harari house. It consists of two padded cusioned layers that are attached to the walls like wide steps. These cushioned platforms are where the family eats, sleeps, and for right now, stares at this not so subtle American, who should know better than to keep staring at what seems to be an all white, blind eye in one of the small children. But since I have arrived in Ethiopia, I cannot help but stare, for there is too much deformity, too many legs widened by elephantitis, too many grapefruit size tumors dripping from emaciated necks, too many amputated beggars that are always nimble enough to be in the path you are taking.
I go outside. A teenage Ethiopian boy who speaks good English attaches himself to me. He tells me about the hyena. He notes that he has read The Lonely Planet Guide to Ethiopia and notes what it said about this tradition: how the feeding started from an age-old custom where the Hararis would palce a bowl of porridge outside the walls for the animals. If they left the bowl empty, good news for the local coffee crop; if they did not drink the porridge, expect drought.
But I already know about this from the guidebook, and because I do, I am also disappointed how the locals are now learning about their history from our cultural perspective and intrepretation. And so I break to see how the preparations for the feeding are going, and when I step back, I notice a four legged dog-like creature with arched shoulders and a lowered rump--but a dog doesnt have those yellow-orange spots--and this creature, also known as a spotted hyena, has been staring at me for the last few minutes.
I jumped back. My guide told me it was okay. In the meantime, the hyena seemed to be satisfied with me and trotted off into the Hyena mans house. And I began to walk into the dark desert that I had earlier stayed away from.
But it had already become temporarily reclaimed. A few other taxis had arrived. Their tourist passengers had gotten out. The taxi drivers turned on their vehicles lights. The Hyena man (wearing a white jacket and a blue and checkerboard wide skirt) moved into the center of the dimly lighted circle. He brought with him two beat up buckets filled with raw meat. A pack of hyenas waited outside of the lighted rim made by the taxi headlights--the end of civilization, the beginning of the desert. But the wilderness would come to the civilized. The Hyena man started calling for the hyenas by their individual names--yup, he had a name for each one, and as soon as he called them by that name, that particular critter came right up to the bucket but waited for the Hyena man to prong a chunk of meat with a stick, and then place the juicy slab before the hyenas jaws. To keep the rest of the tribe content, the Hyena man would throw a glob or two of who knows what kind of carcass to the seven or eight hyenas outside the lighted circle that was about the size of a tennis court.
Click, click, click, our tourist cameras began to snap--but only after one or two hyenas had established that they were more interested in the rancid steak than in the still live milk-fed human veal. The western tourists, however, stayed close to their taxis. They did not avail themselves of the next part of the tour like two Ethiopian male tourists did: take the Hyena mans stick and feed the hyenas for themselves.
Yet at some point I would have to leave the safety of the taxi ring in order to get a better picture of the hyenas. I would have to get close enough to where I would almost be in a position to feed them. I would have to leave (briefly) civilization--even though it was only a taxi cab away.
Click! Gotcha! And when I later saw the picture back home, why the fear? As the snapshot showed, the hyena was more interested in what was probably another raw hyena than in the tourist who had a hard time eating the local Ethiopian dish of injera. (The basic table cloth of bread upon which globs of spicy food are gooped upon.) Ah, but I have watched too many Discovery shows. Heard too many voice-over narrations about how hyenas can snap bones when they bite limbs. Re-read Hemingways The Snows of Kiliminjaro too many times to ever not see the hyena as being a creepy symbol of death.
But the hyena was just being fed, and as soon as he or she got their meat, they scampered off into the darkness, from which you soon heard a hoarse, heavy wheezing--which is how the hyenas laugh sounded. The hyenas let themselves be fed, didnt gvie a damn about being photographed, and as soon as they had the meat in their bellies, beat it back to the dusty bone-colored desert.
And it was time for us to get back into taxis (after we paid the Hyena man). My taxi was the last to leave. As it turned to the walled city, the dim-butter-colored circle where a temporary neutral zone had been established between the civilization and the wilderness, was gone.
Not, however, the understanding, as well as attempt that I must always make at creating such a space. Because soemtimes we cannot always live with the nature we are born with. Sometimes, we have to try and live with a nature that will always be unnatural, awkward, but oddly, revitalizing for us.
What anonymous
vein
rejected this false
ecstasy
dissolving it back
into a plastic
that has become a condom for a narcotic orgasm
that will never impregnate
a poison and perhaps fatally so into a soul
that like a clean syringe is a vacuum
of the bland and sterile
It is only
when you inhale evil
that a passive instrument
becomes
an autonomous weapon
with unpredictable consequences
Yet
why not a stylus
that without even writing
one word
still leaves behind
a poem untitled
but whose theme
of self and perhaps communal
destruction
is never in doubt
What is
missing
but can be
easily painted in
is a contemporary
parallel
to an ancient
Roman mosaic
of a young woman
in the pause
of a moment seized with inspiration
that comes to a gentle rest in the tip
of her pen softly puncturing against her lip
But for our civilization
the writer of our epitaph is a junkie
whose epiphany
gets gently wasted
into a vein
that will innocently bring
the fatal
to a clean and vital nature
Most probable
HIV positive hypodermic
or a classical image
of a dead culture
and one that in spite of its unsurpassable ability to articulate
was unable to mark its end with language
I lang zum Sehen Sie, wieder zu sitzen
Zigarette in der Hand
Walkman auf der Tabelle
Ich möchte können, oben hinter Sie zu gehen
stehen Sie meine Hände auf Ihren Schultern still
lehnen Sie meinen Kopf nahe bei Ihrem Gesicht
I lang zum Haben meine Backe nahe Ihrer
nicht berührend
aber so nah
daß ich ruhig könnte, glauben Sie Ihrer Wärme
Ihr Wunsch
unsere Haut würde nicht sich berühren
aber ich wurde ruhiges fühlen die Anstürme
von Ihrer Anwesenheit
I seem overly approachable
at the bookstore,
employees blurring by in
Name tags and store-brand
t-shirts.
Spotting the text Id been
looking for, I sat in a chair
at the end of the aisle.
Ten minutes into self-enjoyment:
Can I help you sir?
No, Im all set, thanks.
I relieved my burdened bladder
in the restroom, and came back
to an empty chair;
my book removed, bodies multiplying
in each aisle, as if books
had become a new fast-food.
Names of famous authors mentioned
together by heavily-droned
lips, as if authors were to
be had like a combo meal.
I decided to shove off,
suddenly feeling a grumbling
in my gut.
terrorist alert key; see chart below:
low terror: world peace
medium-low terror: general angst
medium terror: someones pissed
medium-high terror: duct tape and plastic party time
high terror: world war three
respective course of action; please follow exactly until preferred reaction:
low terror: no ones listening; commence operation ignore until something happens
medium-low terror: instill general suspicion of foreigners through media hype
medium terror: leak scary lies about impending doom (also bandwagon syndrome)
medium-high terror: drop unfounded accusations in the state of the union address
high terror: make an example of the easiest enemy to prove american resolve
its a difficult thing to give the gift of peace and democracy to a world that doesnt trust ones intentions based upon past experience;
it takes time, patience, money, effort, compromise, and ultimately understanding.
bombs however are self-explanatory.
(c) 2005 Frank Anthony
Si usted quiere algo que interesa, especial
Entonces vaya al Zoo de la Mora.
Usted verá el McGoffs, el Treps y el Sloffs
El Glems, y el Gillastems, también.
El paso por las jaulas, ve el Grems en sus rabias
¡Para ochenta carne de la libra abandona - unos pocos!
Vea que las exhibiciones de Parte eso dice Ribbit
Eso busca para algo hacer.
Sí, si usted quiere algo que interesa, especial
Entonces vaya al Zoo de la Mora,
Para si usted come globbles, y el amor para ver plobbles,
¡Entonces esto es el lugar para usted!
The way he wrote
Wish I could
Slapping whores
Then fucking them
Living on $16 a month
Working in slaughterhouses
Betting on horses
Jerking off
To nothing
To no one
Im even trying to do it now
To no avail
Pugilistic hobo
Drunken scholar
I want to write
Like him
But
I could never live
Like him
Ill take my 7 Ð 4:15 job
Private schools for my little ones
Dinner on the table every night
Maybe tonight
Ill fuck my alarm clock
And think of you
Buk
We went out for drinks with our friend Zach, and he was talking about Prejudice. He was saying that he didnt think it was prejudice if a white father didnt want his daughter to marry a back man, because he would agree with the white father there. And he was saying that he wasnt prejudice. He said he didnt have a problem with white people dating or marrying black people, but it was just the he wouldnt want his white daughter to marry a black man.
And we looked at each other after he said that, and we said no, sorry, thats prejudice.
He refused to believe it, because he had black friends, and he had no problem with racial mixing for dating or marriage.
But we said, but you do have a problem with it for your own daughter.
He said that his feelings werent prejudice, they were just a preference.
And I thought: Prejudice is an unfounded preference, I think...
Lets think about the actual definition of the word. You dont want your white daughter to marry a man because he is black. Youre not judging them as a person, you a pre judging them based on the color of their skin. I checked it out in the dictionary:
from Websters New Collegiate Dictionary:
Prejudice \ n b a (1): preconceived judgement or opinion (2) an opinion or leaning adverse to anything without just grounds or without sufficient knowledge b: an instance of such judgement or opinion c: an irrational attitude of hostility directed against an individual, a group, a race, or their supported characteristics.
And yeah, I think someone who decides they didnt want their daughter to marry a black man would be making that judgment without sufficient knowledge about that person (other than knowing the color of their skin). I dont know if youd consider it hostility against that individual, but you might consider it an irrational attitude.
Janet Kuypers
One piece in this issue is Crazy,& #148; an interview Kuypers conducted with Madeline,& #148; a murderess who was found insane, and is confined to West Virginias Arronsville Correctional Center. Madeline, whose elevator definitely doesnt go to the top, killed her boyfriend during sex with an ice pick and a chefs knife, far surpassing the butchery of Elena Bobbitt. Madeline, herself covered with blood, sat beside her lovers remains for three days, talking to herself, and that is how the police found her. For effect, Kuypers publishes Madelines monologue in different-sized type, and the result is something between a sense of Dalis surrealism and Kafka-like craziness.
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Debra Purdy Kong, writer, British Columbia, Canada
I like the magazine a lot. I like the spacious lay-out and the different coloured pages and the variety of writers styles. Too many literary magazines read as if everyone graduated from the same course. We need to collect more voices like these and send them everywhere.
As for the fiction, the piece by Anderson is quite perceptive: I liked the way the self-deluding situation of the character is gradually, subtly revealed. (Kuypers) story is good too: the way it switches narrative perspective via the letter device is a nice touch.
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Children, Churches and Daddies.
It speaks for itself.
Write to Scars Publications to submit poetry, prose and artwork to Children, Churches and Daddies literary magazine, or to inquire about having your own chapbook, and maybe a few reviews like these.
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what is veganism?
A vegan (VEE-gun) is someone who does not consume any animal products. While vegetarians avoid flesh foods, vegans dont consume dairy or egg products, as well as animal products in clothing and other sources.
why veganism?
This cruelty-free lifestyle provides many benefits, to animals, the environment and to ourselves. The meat and dairy industry abuses billions of animals. Animal agriculture takes an enormous toll on the land. Consumtion of animal products has been linked to heart disease, colon and breast cancer, osteoporosis, diabetes and a host of other conditions.
so what is vegan action?
We can succeed in shifting agriculture away from factory farming, saving millions, or even billions of chickens, cows, pigs, sheep turkeys and other animals from cruelty.
We can free up land to restore to wilderness, pollute less water and air, reduce topsoil reosion, and prevent desertification.
We can improve the health and happiness of millions by preventing numerous occurrences od breast and prostate cancer, osteoporosis, and heart attacks, among other major health problems.
A vegan, cruelty-free lifestyle may be the most important step a person can take towards creatin a more just and compassionate society. Contact us for membership information, t-shirt sales or donations.
vegan action
po box 4353, berkeley, ca 94707-0353
510/704-4444
I really like (Writing Your Name& #148;). Its one of those kind of things where your eye isnt exactly pulled along, but falls effortlessly down the poem. I liked knowledge& #148; for its mix of disgust and acceptance. Janet Kuypers does good little movies, by which I mean her stuff provokes moving imagery for me. Color, no dialogue; the voice of the poem is the narrator over the film.
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Children, Churches and Daddies no longer distributes free contributors copies of issues. In order to receive issues of Children, Churches and Daddies, contact Janet Kuypers at the cc&d e-mail addres. Free electronic subscriptions are available via email. All you need to do is email ccandd@scars.tv... and ask to be added to the free cc+d electronic subscription mailing list. And you can still see issues every month at the Children, Churches and Daddies website, located at http://scars.tv
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MIT Vegetarian Support Group (VSG)
functions:
* To show the MIT Food Service that there is a large community of vegetarians at MIT (and other health-conscious people) whom they are alienating with current menus, and to give positive suggestions for change.
* To exchange recipes and names of Boston area veg restaurants
* To provide a resource to people seeking communal vegetarian cooking
* To provide an option for vegetarian freshmen
We also have a discussion group for all issues related to vegetarianism, which currently has about 150 members, many of whom are outside the Boston area. The group is focusing more toward outreach and evolving from what it has been in years past. We welcome new members, as well as the opportunity to inform people about the benefits of vegetarianism, to our health, the environment, animal welfare, and a variety of other issues.
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Dusty Dog Reviews: These poems document a very complicated internal response to the feminine side of social existence. And as the book proceeds the poems become increasingly psychologically complex and, ultimately, fascinating and genuinely rewarding.
Some excellent writing in Hope Chest in the Attic.& #148; I thought Children, Churches and Daddies& #148; and The Room of the Rape& #148; were particularly powerful pieces.
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C Ra McGuirt, Editor, The Penny Dreadful Review: CC&D is obviously a labor of love ... I just have to smile when I go through it. (Janet Kuypers) uses her space and her poets to best effect, and the illos attest to her skill as a graphic artist.
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Dusty Dog Reviews: She opens with a poem of her own devising, which has that wintry atmosphere demonstrated in the movie version of Boris Pasternaks Doctor Zhivago. The atmosphere of wintry white and cold, gloriously murderous cold, stark raging cold, numbing and brutalizing cold, appears almost as a character who announces to his audience, Wisdom occurs only after a laboriously magnificent disappointment.& #148; Alas, that our Dusty Dog for mat cannot do justice to Ms. Kuypers very personal layering of her poem across the page.
Fithian Press, Santa Barbara, CA
Indeed, theres a healthy balance here between wit and dark vision, romance and reality, just as theres a good balance between words and graphics. The work shows brave self-exploration, and serves as a reminder of mortality and the fragile beauty of friendship.
Mark Blickley, writer
The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. Scars& #148; is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing her book.
You Have to be Published to be Appreciated.
Do you want to be heard? Contact Children, Churches and Daddies about book or chapbook publishing. These reviews can be yours. Scars Publications, attention J. Kuypers. Were only an e-mail away. Write to us.
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The Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology
The Solar Energy Research & Education Foundation (SEREF), a non-profit organization based in Washington, D.C., established on Earth Day 1993 the Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology (CREST) as its central project. CRESTs three principal projects are to provide:
* on-site training and education workshops on the sustainable development interconnections of energy, economics and environment;
* on-line distance learning/training resources on CRESTs SOLSTICE computer, available from 144 countries through email and the Internet;
* on-disc training and educational resources through the use of interactive multimedia applications on CD-ROM computer discs - showcasing current achievements and future opportunities in sustainable energy development.
The CREST staff also does on the road& #148; presentations, demonstrations, and workshops showcasing its activities and available resources.
For More Information Please Contact: Deborah Anderson
dja@crest.org or (202) 289-0061
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Dorrance Publishing Co., Pittsburgh, PA
Hope Chest in the Attic& #148; captures the complexity of human nature and reveals startling yet profound discernments about the travesties that surge through the course of life. This collection of poetry, prose and artwork reflects sensitivity toward feminist issues concerning abuse, sexism and equality. It also probes the emotional torrent that people may experience as a reaction to the delicate topics of death, love and family.
Chain Smoking& #148; depicts the emotional distress that afflicted a friend while he struggled to clarify his sexual ambiguity. Not only does this thought-provoking profile address the plight that homosexuals face in a homophobic society, it also characterizes the essence of friendship. The room of the rape& #148; is a passionate representation of the suffering rape victims experience. Vivid descriptions, rich symbolism, and candid expressions paint a shocking portrait of victory over the gripping fear that consumes the soul after a painful exploitation.
want a review like this? contact scars about getting your own book published.
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The magazine Children Churches and Daddies is Copyright ©
through
Scars Publications and Design. The rights of the individual pieces remain with the authors. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.
Okay, nilla wafer. Listen up and listen good. How to save your life. Submit, or Ill have to kill you.
Okay, butt-munch. Tough guy. This is how to win the editors over.
Carlton Press, New York, NY: HOPE CHEST IN THE ATTIC is a collection of well-fashioned, often elegant poems and short prose that deals in many instances, with the most mysterious and awesome of human experiences: love... Janet Kuypers draws from a vast range of experiences and transforms thoughts into lyrical and succinct verse... Recommended as poetic fare that will titillate the palate in its imagery and imaginative creations.
You Have to be Published to be Appreciated.
Dorrance Publishing Co., Pittsburgh, PA: Hope Chest in the Attic& #148; captures the complexity of human nature and reveals startling yet profound discernments about the travesties that surge through the course of life. This collection of poetry, prose and artwork reflects sensitivity toward feminist issues concerning abuse, sexism and equality. It also probes the emotional torrent that people may experience as a reaction to the delicate topics of death, love and family. Chain Smoking& #148; depicts the emotional distress that afflicted a friend while he struggled to clarify his sexual ambiguity. Not only does this thought-provoking profile address the plight that homosexuals face in a homophobic society, it also characterizes the essence of friendship. The room of the rape& #148; is a passionate representation of the suffering rape victims experience. Vivid descriptions, rich symbolism, and candid expressions paint a shocking portrait of victory over the gripping fear that consumes the soul after a painful exploitation.
Debra Purdy Kong, writer, British Columbia, Canada (on Children, Churches and Daddies): I like the magazine a lot. I like the spacious lay-out and the different coloured pages and the variety of writers styles. Too many literary magazines read as if everyone graduated from the same course. We need to collect more voices like these and send them everywhere.
ccandd96@scars.tv
Publishers/Designers Of
Sponsors Of
Children, Churches and Daddies (founded 1993)
has been written and researched by political groups and writers from the United States, Canada, England, India, Italy, Malta, Belgium, Norway, Turkey, Israel,
Australia and Russia.
Regular features provide coverage of environmental, political and social issues (via news and philosophy) as well as fiction and poetry,
and act as an information and education source. Children, Churches and Daddies is the leading magazine for this combination of information,
education and entertainment.
Children, Churches and Daddies copyright
through
Scars Publications and Design, Children, Churches and Daddies, Janet Kuypers. All rights remain with the authors of the individual
pieces. No material may be reprinted without express permission.
Okay, its this simple: send me published or unpublished poetry, prose or art work (do not send originals), along with a bio, to us - then sit around and wait... Pretty soon youll hear from the happy people at cc&d that says (a) Your work sucks, or (b) This is fancy crap, and were gonna print it. Its that simple!
Hope Chest in the Attic is a 200 page, perfect-bound book of 13 years of poetry, prose and art by Janet Kuypers. Its a really classy thing, if you know what I mean. We also have a few extra sopies of the 1999 book Rinse and Repeat& #148;, the 2001 book Survive and Thrive& #148;, the 2001 books Torture and Triumph& #148; and (no so) Warm and Fuzzy& #148;,
which all have issues of cc&d crammed into one book. And you can have either one of these things at just five bucks a pop if you just contact us and tell us you saw this ad space. Its an offer you cant refuse...
Mark Blickley, writer: The precursor to the magazine title (Children, Churches and Daddies) is very moving. Scars& #148; is also an excellent prose poem. I never really thought about scars as being a form of nostalgia. But in the poem it also represents courage and warmth. I look forward to finishing the book.
Do you want to be heard? Contact Children, Churches and Daddies about book and chapbook publishing. These reviews can be yours. Scars Publications, attention J. Kuypers - you can write for yourself or you can write for an audience. Its your call...
Dusty Dog Reviews, CA (on knife): These poems document a very complicated internal response to the feminine side of social existence. And as the book proceeds the poems become increasingly psychologically complex and, ultimately, fascinating and genuinely rewarding.
Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself.
Dusty Dog Reviews (on Without You): She open with a poem of her own devising, which has that wintry atmosphere demonstrated in the movie version of Boris Pasternaks Doctor Zhivago. The atmosphere of wintry white and cold, gloriously murderous cold, stark raging cold, numbing and brutalizing cold, appears almost as a character who announces to his audience, Wisdom occurs only after a laboriously magnificent disappointment.& #148; Alas, that our Dusty Dog for mat cannot do justice to Ms. Kuypers very personal layering of her poem across the page.
Children, Churches and Daddies. It speaks for itself.
Fithian Press, Santa Barbara, CA: Indeed, theres a healthy balance here between wit and dark vision, romance and reality, just as theres a good balance between words and graphics. The work shows brave self-exploration, and serves as a reminder of mortality and the fragile beauty of friendship.
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Scars Publications and Design
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