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my main account-> [link]


U

hey now....I just did a few in black and white ...I think mine are good. but hear hear!!!

They are good, quite good. But they're of a graveyard, not a band, and they're black-and-white because they ought to be, not because you're trying to make up for mistakes in composition (which I've never seen you make).

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"Persevere! Do not only practice your Art, but also endeavour to fathom its Inner Meaning—it deserves this effort!" —Ludwig van Beethoven

Now we mustn't forget the angst-ridden poetry, the iPod rip-offs, or endless 3D renders of cars... Glad I'm not the only one who's noticed the common themes in deviations!

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Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. - Victor Hugo

Ah, that's why I hide from the poetry, for the most part. All but a few of the poets I really like are dead. Hope you don't run into too many of the Angst, Inc. crowd at Starbucks.

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"Persevere! Do not only practice your Art, but also endeavour to fathom its Inner Meaning—it deserves this effort!" —Ludwig van Beethoven

Whatever happened to poetry? I'm much the same with the poets I like... only a handful are alive today. Thanks for the wishes... I hope not myself!

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Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. - Victor Hugo

i don't post my shots of bands, though i've gotten some good compliments on my photography, mostly because.. you know.. i don't see the purpose of posting those..

you have a point, lots of things are overdone. but you've made me curious if i have put too many pictures of my kitty up... she's just so cute and mean, i have to share!

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"only when the last tree has died, and the last river been poisoned, and the last fish been caught will we realize that we can't eat money." based on a Cree saying

Whatever happened to poetry? Good question, or rather a couple of possible questions. Here's my take:

1) Poetry in general: Starting probably with the Romantics (whom I love but can't let off the hook), the poet became less the herald and more the critic of the world around him (yes, folks, I use the generic masculine; deal with it). Poetry gradually came to be more solipsistic, esoteric, and aloof. It wasn't about us all, anymore, it was about ME-THE POET. Furthermore, there seemed to be fewer and fewer beautiful and good things about which to write poetry. Look at a positive poem today, or even a positive song. Few and far between are the ones with any originality, that don't seem tired, trite, and hollow. If the artist doesn't see life as beautiful, how can he make beautiful art and still be honest?

Consequently, the arts spent most of the twentieth century in divorce court: Art divorced from objectivity, music from tonality, prose and drama from plot, logic, and unity, and poetry from humanity and (dare I say) love. And all of them divorced themselves from the average person. Artists came to view common folk as ignorant cattle, too stupid to understand anything, so why bother talking to them, anyway? Yes, some of them espoused causes, demanding justice for the poor and downtrodden. But take a closer look, and you'll see that most of them didn't so much care about the poor and downtrodden as despise the bourgeoisie. They became like the prosecuting attorneys, cross-examining the world, pointing out all its faults and ignoring or dismissing its virtues. And how long are people going to stand for that? So people walked out of the libraries, galleries, and concert halls in droves. They found their own entertainments, movies, dime novels, popular music: things they could relate to on a native level, since nobody thought them worthy of teaching about culture. Why is country music so big today? Because it has a melody, makes simple, pleasant points, has (for the most part) indentifiable and unobjectionable values, and doesn't seem to want to hurt you. What else is available? The average rock singer nowadays sounds like he's about to rape you at knifepoint, and the average pop "diva" sounds (and looks) like she should be holding onto a lampost rather than a microphone-stand.

2) Don't worry, this bit's much shorter. Who knows the language anymore? We've gutted its descriptive power in the name of political correctness. We've demolished its capacity for nuance and/or precision by condemning any insistance on correct grammar, spelling, and punctuation or on developing a broad vocabulary as elitist and discriminatory. I'm reading some 19th century books just now, and it's incredible that even mediocre authors of the period are there wielding words I haven't seen in years (and I hold a degree in English Lit.)! Writing great poetry with today's pedestrian English is like trying to paint a classical portrait with only primary colors; you just don't have the tools for the job.

3) With reference to adolescent poetry in general: Almost nobody writes well at that age. Maybe once in a century, if we're lucky, does a Keats or a Chatterton come along (and they wrote their share of drivel, too, believe me). You just don't have the perspective when you're young. Ever go back to some childhood place, or meet somebody you knew when you were five, and realize how much smaller they actually are than you remember? The same thing's true emotionally. To a teenager, an inconvenient zit or a missed trip to the mall seem like the end of the world. To say nothing of relationships (real or dreamed-of) I remember being that age myself. I look back now, wondering what I ever saw in girls over whom I was ready to kill myself at 16. . .and I daresay, few will be as sorry when I'm dead as I thought they'd be then And trust me, it shows in the so-called writing I did then. I still have most of it. Only two people have ever seen any of it in my adult life (and you know both of them, btw), and even that almost killed me from embarrassment.

As for your Starbucks adventure, well. . .at least you'll get some decent coffee out of it.

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"Persevere! Do not only practice your Art, but also endeavour to fathom its Inner Meaning—it deserves this effort!" —Ludwig van Beethoven

That was very eloquently stated.

I agree with your take on the Romantics. Despite the fact that the Romantic Era was supposedly one of spirituality, love of nature and beauty, the literature of the time, or at least the poetry, was almost egotistical. As for the positive side of poetry and lyrics today, they do tend to be rather redundant. The majority of artists seem to be either attempting to make art imitate life and are missing the mark by miles, or see life as so dull that that's the best they can actually do. I remember seeing a quote (I, unfortunately, cannot remember where or who it was by...) that mentioned how calculated the arts are today and that they will be forgotten in a matter of decades. I think it's true that this might indeed be the case, and I also find it incredibly sad that our entire era could basically be swept under the rug.

By separating themselves from the "common man", the artists in effect became bourgeoisie. They elevated themselves above where they should rightfully have been. Unfortunately, it would appear that we are still dealing with the repercussions of this act. Just look at how much money some so-called musicians, actors and writers make. As you said, most of the singers look more like they should be wrapped around a light post.

I can sort of stand political correctness up to a point. The thing that drives me however, is the complete butchering of the English language with my age bracket being the worst offender by far. I remember being tested on my reading skills back in elementary. We'd have to read excerpts from stories, and then describe what was going on in the story, or define a word. In grade three, they stopped testing me because they only had material that went up to a grade ten level. In grade five however, they stopped testing everyone. Why? Because some parents didn't like being told that little Johnny and Sue were effectively illiterate. The astounding lack of grasp on grammar, tense, punctuation and so forth continues on to this day at the end of my eleventh year of schooling.

I've gone through my fair share of angst and written my own god-awful angst-ridden poetry. I found it earlier in the year and proceeded to shred and burn all of it. I cannot imagine myself ever sharing those with anyone. You deserve credit for having the guts to do that. I have been, thankfully, not as bad as many my age, a good number of whom are still in "that phase". (Of course, for all I know, I could still be as well...)

Starbucks will definitely be a goldmine coffee-wise. I imagine the moola will be quite nice too.

Thank you for the thoughtful and thought provoking response.

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Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. - Victor Hugo