Tuesday reflections

Bluejays are beak-stuffing slobs, with dainty and sleek feathers, superficial cover for gluttony...

Bradleys are procrastinators, with hip-hairdos and polished noggin netherworlds, who whittle away hours twiddling internet ding dongs and doodling narcissism...

Squirrels are depraved backyard denizens, violators of all seven deadly sins, rapacious and cunning delinquents, munchers, camouflaged monsters, objects of detestation...

"Hello morning!" is betoken by 7am wake up, followed tenaciously, alarms like calls to prayer...

My hope is for luminous mornings, indefatigable days, reading evenings, and - o gosh, finally - stable habits, and reliable relationships...

Libby (canis lupis familiaris) is as omnivorous as a goat - she scarfs a morning walnut ritualistically; grapes are delicacies; chicken bones can be procured through trashcan larceny; and the evening meal is human fare - certainly a princess among beasts...

What is one to make of Pynchon, the 'postmodern' luminary? G's Rainbow is a ponderous epic, singular and difficult. Is there some concealed genius - an ironclad kernel - is he just a clever scribomaniac?
The Mars Volta would seem to follow logically, part of the frantic dialectic which cherishes beautiful discord...

Syracuse, NY, most magical at nocturnal hours/ urban air after gloaming/ from illuminated city to atmospheric gloom/ and in between, ladders of light like celestial towers...

Scribblings 1

Rain cuts the heat of the dog days of summer.
But far from serrate or slice,
the stuff drips fruitlessly into drought,
like ineffectual radiation on a redoubtable tumor.
Bitches lick skyward while pups suckle dry nips,
pigs rut in the cached earth, hardly moistened, dreaming of lascivious mud,
The dog star, imperious, from his empyrean perch, radiates pure malice.

Cutting the cheese,
is an inevitable albeit malodorous function of eating and breathing,
but not on Maslow's chart.

To cut cocaine, crack, heroine, and the like,
with speed, baby laxative, glucose, baking powder, and such,
is to dilute poison with poison,
to spur even more druggie death and decay,
to dangerously distort the high.
But who is to say how or how fast a person is to die?

"Cut it out!" implores the belabored brother,
ugly harassment in his sister's ember-eyes,'
The oafish elder',
docile and sloppy in unlaced Sketchers,
is no match for her wiles and meanness,
her smart pigtails.
She grabs and twists his tender tit-toppers while he screeches,
as sharp as a knife.

Metaphors

I am in the process of reading (and enjoying) Saul Bellow's Adventures of Augie March. The language of this prose-master excites me. Check out some of these metaphors, similies, and other language usage innovations from the maestro.

... he listened, trying to remain comfortable but gradually becoming like a man determined not to let a grasshopper escape from his hand (Bellow, p. 4, NY: Penguin).

I tried to explain something of this to your brother, but his thoughts are about as steady as the way a drunkard pees (p. 55).

Poor nails, he didn't look good...An immense face like raked garden soil in need of water...he turned death nosed, white as a polyp, even in his deepest wrinkles. (p. 95-96)

...as soon as he inherited the fortune it darted and wriggled away like a collection of little gold animals that had obeyed only the old man's voice (p. 116).

The spirit I found him in was the Chanticleer spirit, by which I refer to male piercingness, sharpness, knotted hard muscle and blood in the comb, jerky, flaunty, haughty and bright, with luxurious slither of feathers (p. 168).

Collected commentary and writings: Race, language, and media

What is the appropriate usage of controversial language by media outlets? What constitutes 'racist' language, posture, policy, etc.? Is it superior to be politically correct or unflinchingly precise?

The answers to these questions are beyond the human collective ken. That is, presupposing there are answers. Perhaps there are not. And if there are, they are micro-answers, germane only to small and particular situations with innumerable factors.

My own tendency must be more or less moderate. Naturally, I shun excessive, mealy-mouthed political correctness AND the uninhibited, sensationalist, inconsiderate use of potentially pernicious language. The question, "Should (we allow) language (to) hurt us?" might appear relevant. The policy proposal, "Sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me" has appeal as a normative proposition. It also appears to have some truth. But, that proposition is trumped by the indubitable positive-descriptive reality that WORDS DO HURT. They can cause profound pain and death. Therefore, censoring language becomes a moral imperative, and it is simple to see the corollaries between the personal-moral and the political-governmental. This goes to describe why language is censored. Whether or not it should be censored is not so obvious.

Personally, this question became relevant with reference to my radio show - The Unbounded One. I play hip-hop and funk that uses the word nigga/er, among other obscenities, and I was challenged on the legitimacy of this approach by my parents. To them, it was unnecessary, insidious, gross. To me, it was extremely normal and seemingly unavoidable. Not play Saul Williams, Ursula Rucker, Curtis Mayfield? Hell no! I trust and respect the artists I play, I endorse them, I show the world the reality of their music and persona. It is up to the world to interpret. And if they want some help, they can contact me, discuss it with me - on the air even. There is pedagogical and emotional power in every shred of music or discourse that appears on my show. Of course, what I play and what I say are very different things.

My subjective endorsement of the word - which is the most visible and culturally relevant in a long list of ethnic slurs and other pernicious language - is limited. What appears in my music would never cross my lips on the air, at least in a wanton way. If I were to use such a term, it would be for the sake of precision in a measured and serious discussion about what exactly one's policy towards the word - nigger - should be. Because, again, it has considerable and nefarious power. The important thing is the context, the intent, and how it will be interpreted by the listener/reader/viewer.

Joe Lee, radio guru from WAER, Syracuse, (responding to a question from me) writes:

As for the word “nigger/nigga”. My opinion is to avoid using it when possible. As you know, the controversy around use of the word is debated even among artists. Some think it has no place while others think it is relevant to the urban experience and an entrenched part of the urban lexicon. Rules for usage:
1) Consider your audience.
2) Consider the hour.
3) Is it relevant to what you are doing on air? Gratuitous use of the word presented in your set must be avoided. Give the song some context for example: if you are presenting a set of protest songs. In that case, you’ll want to do a setup of the music/theme and give a warning to the audience that “some of the music in this set may contain lyrics considered offensive to some”.
4) Always present in an educational fashion.

Here are some readings on the topic:

Christopher Hitchens in Slate Magazine on the Michael Richards Controversy and the terms 'niggardly' and 'discriminating.'

John Cooke on the probably baseless anti-racist campaign against Stephin Merritt by two media personalities, also in Slate.

Saul Williams in an interview by Mosi Reeves in Creative Loafing Atlanta on the detoxification of language, the origin of Nigger (the Niger River?), nigger in the contemporary urban lexicon, and how poetry opens people's minds to hip hop. Also see his post on this blog and note his reference of the Lauren Hill quote:

And even after all my logic and my theories,

I add a motherfucker so you ignant niggas hear me