Friday, October 05, 2007

THE AWFUL AFTERMATH OF ART

Earlier, I read the poetry of the detainees after some impromptu chat. It was too grim to be pleased with the performance. (See Monday for the background details.) But the people present seemed to be affected by what the others and I did. Wayne Kramer wore an orange jump suit. We hugged. Some performers didn't show. I guess fearing an FBI file or something. When all was done I drank in aptly named Dresden. It never changes. I got home and fell asleep in front of Stephen Colbert. I woke, alone with cat -- knowing I would always be alone with the cat -- and wondering if our evening efforts had made an iota of difference. Because, if they didn’t, the only question that remains is do I blow my brains out now, or cultivate a total loathing of humanity first. I'm exhausted by 40 years of fighting the bastards.

The secret word is Blackwater

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent;
I was not a communist.

When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent;
I was not a social democrat.

When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out;
I was not a trade unionist.

When they came for the Jews,
I remained silent;
I wasn't a Jew.

When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.

Martin Niemöller

Maggie M'Gill said...

I think you underestimate your input, Doc. At the very least you've done something practical about it, and I'd guess your words on the matter may have stirred a few (hopefully more than a few)lurkers to your blog. And as for always being alone with the cat - well, hell, I'm sure you have a very grateful cat. 'Anonymous' is spot on, in my view.

Anonymous said...

Mick, don't be a twat, it's 40 years of fighting the bastards that keeps you going. That's why yer not living in Milton Keynes polishing the car on Sunday morning, hating the wife and kids and worrying if your pension is going to be enough for you to play the occasional game of golf when you retire from your goddam shit awful fucking job and wondering if life would have been different if you had gone to that party down the Mile End Road in 1966 instead of staying home to do yer homework....

Admittedly, it seems like Rourkes Drift at times with just a few surrounded by fucking thousands....but remember its's those arseholes that decreed that Elvis could only be shown from the waist up, that Jagger had to sing 'Let's spend some time together' on the Johnny Carson show and Lenny Bruce couldn't say cocksucker....

so get yer act together, get back on the Ramparts and let's start singing 'Men of Harlech, March to victory....'

Your driver said...

You take your depressions too seriously. First of all, fighting these bastards is part of the joy of living. Second of all, if we both lived in a perfect world, where there was justice for all and we both got laid a lot, you wouldn't bother to write your shit and I wouldn't bother to read it. You did something good and I thank you for it. XXOO

Anonymous said...

I wouldn't be quite the maladjusted person I am today if it weren't for your novels. And if a person isn't maladjusted these days there is most likely something wrong with them. So thank you for that.

Mick said...

Thank you all. I appreciate the kindness and support. I do take my depressions too seriously, but that's also a matter of writing in the moment. I love the Rourkes Drift analogy, although I think a comparision between the impis of Cetshwayo and the curent crop of beseiging bastards is an insult to the Zulus.

Love you all.

Anonymous said...

Men of Harlech stop your dreaming
Can't you see their spear points gleaming
See their warrior pennants streaming
To this battlefield
Men of Harlech stand ye steady
It cannot be ever said ye
For the battle were not ready
Stand and never yield
From the hills rebounding
Let this song be sounding
Summon all at Cambria's call
The mighty force surrounding
Men of Harlech on to glory
This will ever be your story
Keep these burning words before ye
Welshmen will not yield

A Strange Lad said...

Mick, getting the message of heinous realties and their effect on the victims out into the public discourse is never, ever a bad or pointless thing. I just know that it made a difference in the minds of many there. And after all, that's how things start. Surprised and bummed that some didn't show, that's so lame. I had to drive for 11 hours today and am too tired (and depressed as well about other things) to come up with something profound or as meaningful as the others, but I just wanted to say it couldn't possibly have been a waste. And that I wish I could've been there. Keep fighting, the bastards mustn't win. And dude, at least you have a cat...

Anonymous said...

Personally, I think we keep at the seemingly impossible, walk into the fray, hold fast to our values so we can live with ourselves (and our cats! -- who have the highest of standards).

If someone is moved or helped, then so much the better. In fact, there's no more powerful influenceon others than someone simply living a life of personal integrity, which is what you do, Mick.

That's what you share with everyone here, and it's clear from the above we are all so very glad you do.

A BIG thank you..... for being yourself!