Extraordinary Discourse Podcast

Some Is Diss, Samizdat Despite what Archie Bunker said, Edith was never a dingbat. Dingbat is a printer's term for a device that divides text, recognizing some pause deeper than the space between paragraphs, but less profound than the full stop at the end of a chapter. Dingbats dance in the gap. Dingbats come out into the indecisive twilight. … Dingbats are helpful when you're not making sustained, connected sense. Just put in a dingbat, and there's oneiric ellipsis. Coleman Barks, Introduction, The Soul Of Rumi Song Clip: Guy Clark, Cold Dog Soup Utah Phillips,  Loafer's Glory

Weighing In On Ways Out …this fertile border zone, contested marginal land inhabited by those seeking refuge from the law or the sprawl or the iron custody of the market, those who would cross over in search of freedom, or shelter, or belief… Campbell McGrath, January 17 The Best American Poetry 2013

Bushwhacking The Cognitive Map Harvey Wheeler, out on the West Coast at the centre for  the study of democratic institutions, has a view of democracy in which he argues that the great discovery of democracy was to transform every citizen into a guerilla fighter.  The targets of his [sic] guerilla activities were the establishment. Marshall McLuhan, Contemplating Me

A Libertine's Microbrew there's a cold wind blowin' through the old east side it cuts with the devil's curse they're turning our people into the streets, while the landloards line their purse with the greenback dollar of the tourist trade there's a fortune to be had make way for the out-of-towners, for the tenants it's just too bad this appears to be their attitude. kick 'em until they're down they're only welfare cases and pensioners and they're easily pushed around we've invited the world to come and stay and celebrate the fair i wonder if the world will understand the homeless walkin' there. i'm alright jack, and how 'bout you? i'm gonna catch this wave that's rollin' through and turn a trick or two i'm alright jack, no flies on me! i'm within my rights, my conscience is clear i am the profiteer Spirit Of The West - Profiteers

Anti Wage-Slavery, Pro-Freedom Take this work ethic and shove it All paid employments absorb and degrade the mind Aristotle

Guerilla Wordfare And you, O my Soul, where you stand, Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them; Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold; Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul. Walt Whitman

Voices, Choices Some parts of the gigantic oeuvre of Walt Whitman remind me of the huge canvases of the masters of Renaissance painting. If, looking at those canvases, we direct our attention to a detail, we discover a multitude of carefully painted small scenes. The same is true in Whitman: there is something like a mosaic, composed of units that are autonomous. Czeslaw Milosz A Book Of Luminous Things