Thursday, October 30, 2008
A gallery showing inflammatory images of veiled Muslims, including a bare-breasted woman partially clad in a burqa, is under police surveillance after being attacked earlier this week. Windows and doors at the SaLon Gallery in west London were smashed after a series of abusive, anonymous phone calls and angry protests about the images from Muslims. The gallery has complained to police.
Rest of story here.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Canada’s largest festival of zines and the independent arts was held at the Gladstone Hotel on Queen Street West, when a unit of verse of the universe of the imagine nation of the Peoples Republic of Poetry trolled the gathering to implement the Papers Please program.
Canzine is organized by Broken Pencil, a zine of indie zines. Over 150 zines from across Canada on display and for sale! The heart of the event, indie publishers both in print and online come from across the country and the continent to show their wares! Be amazed at the creativity, ingenuity, and sheer weirdness.
High Heels Lo Fi (Mandy Wells on bass, Cynthia Gould on guitar, Patricia Humphreys on drums, Paisley Rae on guitar) took a few moments out from their hectic day to display their FREE SPEECH.
One of the rooms was dedicated to the entertainment of the High Heels Lo Fi, a hot-saucy group of girls, a bunch of babes, wanton wits, plucking strings attached in the chord of F U in FUN. It reminded me of the opening stanza of The Shooting of Dan McGrew:
Their music is a cocktail of poetry and blues, with garnishs of glam, rock, cheese, booze, and hilarity - with pink accessories. The audience for their performances grew as the day lengthened, proving that pinko is not just a watered down communist. One of the leading luminaries of High Heels Lo Fi is Cynthia Gould, a performance poet, among other cultural activities. Her poetry has raw intensity married to a brazen honesty highlighted with a sense of humour. The following poem taken from ‘some words spoken’ is a fine example of a ‘fallen’ woman redeeming herself in a poem, a boozed broken heart rising from the debris of stars.
A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a rag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that’s known as Lou.
Don't tell me that you understand me
when you don't know all of the gory details
and the few you have an inkling about make
Don't tell me that you're listening to me
when every word from my mouth is
filtered through your mind's interpretation
of what I meant to say.
Don't tell me that you know where I'm coming from
when even your nightmares
could not resemble
the places I've crawled out of.
Don't tell me that you only want to see me happy
when you could never believe
that the moment I learned how to be happy
I was listening to glass shatter across the street
as the boy who had been my lover my love five minutes before
threw a bottle in rage
the contents of which were
the reason why I was lying on the sidewalk
he stomped away over the icy glass
which, like my heart, was smashed beyond repair
and I lay on that cold pavement
more alone than I had ever been before
in the rich neighbourhood between the skiddy bar
and my apartment
and I cried sobbed screamed
not thinking that someone might call the cops
not thinking of how I could possibly crawl home from there
not thinking that I was a glaring target for any sort of attack
not thinking of anything but my own miserable self
when I finally looked up past the gutter,
past the buildings, dark trees
I saw the stars.
twinkle tiny dancing magic sparkles
put there a zillion years ago
just to brighten my black black night right now
in the midst of my tragic loneliness,
they made me a little bit happier
Don’t tell me that you understand me
When you haven’t seen the stars from the gutter
And realized that it is me and me alone who
Decides whether or not I will be happy.
Canzine is largely a tossed salad of a cultural manifestation in its infancy. This is the place where emerging artists, poets, and other morphs, display their talent for the first time. It’s a place where one can acquire new publishing concepts and techniques, a sort of honing of craft. It’s a place where mediocrity, and there’s plenty there, does not rise above its current level. It is the very few genuinely creative talents that make their entry level display that makes a couple hours of browsing so worthwhile.
Canzine also has a few regulars, some that return to their roots, speak the same genre, such as CAROUSEL which is a unique gallery of page poetry/art that is being displayed in art: CAROUSEL is art itself.
But there is also a grand daddy publication which continues its efforts to be relevant after thirty years of publishing, FUSE, a magazine of “a diverse community of visual and performing artists, educators, community workers, writers, activists, organizers, policy makers, social thinkers, curators and other movers and shakers. Together we produce a quarterly magazine on art, media and politics.” FUSE magazine has enjoyed state financial assistance throughout most of its lifetime. As a recipient of government arts largesse, FUSE continues to be obedient to government standards as set forth and enforced by various human rights commissions throughout the nation. FUSE follows the government line in this regard.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Canadian poet, Robert Priest, has been utilizing FREE SPEECH ever since the first vowel drooled down his chin into his pablum bowl. Robert Priest is a well-endowed poet, belonging to the club of one-percenters with well-hung imaginations. He is the author of charming bon mots:
"Turn the other cheek or I'll turn it for you."
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Islam Samhan, 27, whose name translates as ‘Tolerant Islam’, published a collection of his poems several months ago. The volume of poetry, In A Slim Shadow, received a web site criticism that the volume insulted Islam.
Suha Philip Ma’ayeh, Foreign Correspondent for The National, wrote:
“Noah Alqdah, Jordan’s grand mufti, the kingdom’s highest religious authority, called the poet an apostate and enemy of religion for his poetry, some of which included lines comparing his loneliness to that of the prophet Yusuf in the Quran.”
The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics asserts that metaphor is a “a condensed verbal relation which an idea, image, or symbol may, by the presence of one or more other ideas, images or symbols, be enhanced in vividness, complexity, or breadth of implication.”
Abdullah Hammoudeh, head of the Jordanian Writers Association’s freedoms committee, attended Samhan’s initial court session, and afterwards, said that Samhan “explained in court that there were verses from the Quran because it was in Arabic, which is the language of the Quran… and when he used the word ‘gods’ in his lines, it was a reference to the Greek mythology because the word God cannot be plural in Arabic.” So there!
Holy Quaker – Walks on water.This little fellow got fed up with his arse getting all soggy and wrinkled - So he's decided to think outside the box - Become a pedestian - And waddle along on the surface instead! - He's the envy of all his friends.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Tarek Fatah wrote:
Watch this newcast clip about the curriculum of a Saudi school in UK. These Saudi textbooks are also available in US and Canada, but no one dares to challenge this hate material. Someday someone will have the courage to join the MCC in its lonely fight against the Saudi and Iranian hate machine that thrives in our schools and universities.
Watch the official from the school squirm, obfuscate, dodge, etc. Free speech armed with truth is the best weapon against bigotry.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
This project by mamzellenix is exceedingly compliant with the Policy of Poetry Proliferation & Proselytization of the imagine nation of the Peoples Republic of Poetry. Poetry is an expansionist state of mind. This project marks turf for the expanded poetic imagine nation.
The Ministry of Extrodinary Affairs has been instructed by the Poetburo, for the benefit of all units of verse of the uniVerse, to declare this project as an example of POETRY IS POETENCY!
Monday, October 6, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
This is the Wal-Martyr hanging with some Beaver in Trinity-Bellwoods Park, before embarking on a stroll along Queen West. The stroll attracted an entourage of paparazzi, and eventually, the Toronto police, who assured themselves that the Wal-Martyr was carrying nothing more explosive than metaphors, and released his imagination back into the wild.
This year, Wally Keeler will be setting up a video camera in Trinity-Bellwoods Park (west end, facing Queen West, against wall of building) and inviting poets, poetasters, poetry lovers or sluts, to take a stand against mediocrity and pledge their allegiance to Poetry. Each unit of verse will be required to stand in front of the camera (head & shoulders only) and recite the following:
. . . . .. . .“I, (YOURNAME),
. . . .SWEAR TO SPEAK POETIC,
. . . .. . . WHOLLY POETIC,
. . . .AND NOTHING BUT POETIC,
. SO HELP ME (NAME OF FAV POET).”
Mr Keeler will also be requesting people pose with their FREE SPEECH cards and recite:
"I (YOUR NAME), HAVE FREE SPEECH BECAUSE ..."
Mr Keeler will be vacating the space from 9:45pm through to 11:00pm to attend a poetry show at the Bovine Sex Club, then returning to the Trinity-Bellwoods Park site to complete the project, until my equipment exhausts its power supplies, or until I exhaust my power supply, which ever comes first.