After a career in the entertainment lighting business encompassing, sales, technical support, marketing, photography, and writing, I now manage and market veterinary hospitals.
Ohio A shitty motel Worried about bedbugs The phantom itching of fears The lipstick on a pig of a renovated flop house While the rain pours down through dawn’s meager light Watching hope drain away on tv One state at a time The phantom fears of bitter disappointment Wondering what dissident means in an American oligarchy A country of inequality enshrined in court and law That respects neither
They lost because they believed in science They lost because they were of color They lost because they were a woman
I see a headline that says America has changed And I can’t help but feel that the only thing that has changed is that the veneer has been stripped away
This is not a country based on freedoms Those are the lies told to ourselves to sleep at night Like Santa Claus or recycling that works
This is a country that has returned to its roots A land founded by religious extremists pilgrims Not Pilgrims fleeing persecution But pilgrims seeking freedom to persecute One of our earliest cultural memories Burning women at the stake
A country built on the back of theft, genocide, slavery, and broken promises
And then arming ourselves to the teeth to protect against the coming retribution Even if it costs us our children
Choosing once was folly Choosing twice was choice
Driving through Michigan the day before the signs were all for her While in Ohio, it was all for him
Melissa says “do you really hate me that much,” a cry into the dark Alyssa says “I want to come with you to the UK,” only half in jest. Susan says “ don’t forget about your promise from the last time” referring to marriage and having a plan Sarah says “I don’t know how anyone can vote for her.” And I wonder if I know her at all
Driving through Kansas and then Tennessee the day after all the signs are gone Like tokens of shame and guilt Hidden away in the night the evidence of a hate crime And nobody seems happy in the gas stations and restaurants
Free books Books by the pound Great books for $2.00 Books by local authors Books by those who don’t get into bookshops
Art and tarot UFOs and weed Hunter and Burroughs Billy Bragg and H.L.T. Quan Zines and chaps Stickers and postcards Signed and rare The weird, the silenced, the banned, and the marginal
And poetry So much poetry Enough for a heart-full
A cultural nexus A haven and open to all Events, outreach, and selfless In a town that always has to fight for artistic recognition A town with an inexhaustible capacity to shoot itself in the foot In a country where the National Endowment for the arts is 0.003% of the federal budget A country that needs far more art and far less weapons
How to define a great bookshop? By how much it will be missed.
The Greek word Utopia was brought into common English usage By Sir Thomas Moore His 16th century book of the same name Described an idyllic island of equality A society run for the benefit of is citizens Utopia means literally “no place.” From there it was a hop, skip, and a jump To the word dystopia
How do we know when we are living in a utopia vs. a dystopia?
Can we agree that a minimum quality of any society Never mind a utopia Has to be that it is run for the benefit of its inhabitants?
Anyone feel like they live in a society that is run for their benefit?
If our society is not for its people Then what is it for?
What is the point?
Joseph Schumpeter was an early 20th century political economist He is responsible for the concept of the entrepreneur He also popularized the concept of “creative destruction” That new ideas would lead to the destruction of the old ways of doing things and that it was the driver of growth in an economy That capitalism was an evolutionary process However, he also believed the capitalism would eventually collapse Weakened by the very things that pushed it forward Ending in corporatism run by elites
How do we know when we are living in a utopia vs. a dystopia?
If something is bad for people working in an economy But good for the economy
What is the point?
Who is the economy for?
In the middle of the 20th century, mathematician and, considered by many, the inventor of the modern computer, Alan Turing, proposed the imitation game More commonly known as the Turing test The imitation game was a test for a machine to fool a human into thinking that the machine was human
We are in the midst of the great AI revolution With its promise of freedom from drudgery, and a new generation of tools and productivity
However, art was first
Art the refuge Art the joy bringer Art the context giver
Whose drudgery and productivity is this AI revolution for the benefit of?
How do we know when we are living in a utopia vs. a dystopia?
Technological improvements that don’t bring improvements but just destruction of the things that we most value
What is the point?
There is a surprising lack of reverse Turing tests in this AI revolution A test to separate what is machine regurgitated rather than human created The lack of footnotes with generative AI would seem to be useful addition for a “tool” Stimmed by over protection of algorithmic secrets Or perhaps potential evidence in copyright infringement lawsuits And then there is the insistence on the marketing friendly term “A.I” Rather than the more accurate machine learning
Machine learning is what humans have previously created Scraped from the internet Stuffed into a blender And output to decent summarization engines and lukewarm guessing machines without a thought to copyright and intellectual property
We will sleepwalk into AI invading the workplace Learning from us Getting better because of us Replacing us because it is cheaper But eventually failing because of a lack of new data
We are the Ouroboros The snake eating its own tale From the ancient Egyptian “Enigmatic Book of the Netherworld” From the tomb of Tutankhamun A funerial text of prescience From a people long gone
How do we know when we are living in a utopia vs. a dystopia?
Sam Altman, is the CEO of OpenAI, originally a non-profit focused on AI safety But now a for profit company, that is most widely known for ChatGPT, And the internal infighting over the lies and riches of temptation Altman has said multiple times onstage and in his own blog “AI will most likely lead to the end of the world, but in the meantime, there will be great companies created with serious machine learning.” When Michael Crichton wrote “your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.” He was talking about bringing dinosaurs back from the dead, not making poor people poorer and rich people richer.
Tech Bros can’t even make a printer that works
What is the point?
The Artificial Intelligence apocalypse Will not be killer robots who look like Arnold (a lot less of those kinds of movies of late for those not paying attention) The Infopocalypse will be algorithmically incoherent An internet of machines talking to machines Manipulating and obfuscating to the highest bidder “Alexa, “should I leave my wife” Answered by averages and random chance The opinion of machines more important than the opinions people The death of the internet as a tool is probably already here With Reddit the default result on Google for almost everything Since when did Reddit become the arbiter of truth?
How do we know when we are living in a utopia vs. a dystopia?
According to Greek myth When Pandora opened a box in the care of her husband All the evils of the world were released Slamming it shut too late she trapped hope in the box
We live in a world of technologies that are artificially limited Or forced into failure For the benefit of “society” rather than the people in that society Copyright only seems to matter to those who can punch downwards Your iPhone can’t have a headphone jack So we can sell you Bluetooth headphones for hundreds of dollars Our books, movies, and music are not owned But at the whims of a subscription model and changing licensing agreements Cloud based document sharing to put paid to paper And those pesky printers Selling ink that costs more than the printer was just not quite good enough
The promise of lies The lies of promise
What is the point?
If we can limit and implement technology for benefit of corporations, billionaires, and the status quo it can be limited and implemented for people
Are we in a pot of slowly boiling water?
The fable goes, that a frog will jump out if placed in a pot of boiling water But will be slowly cooked alive if placed in cool water that is incrementally heated However, what actually happens if you place a frog into boiling water, is that it dies And if you place a frog into cool water, it jumps out because it can
Can we jump out of the pot, or have we already been dumped into the boiling water? Not using AI will require the courage of our convictions That being creative does not always have to be destructive That moving fast and breaking things just leads to broken things That societies should be for the benefit of all the people inside them And that we all get to decide what the point is
Batman, Luke Skywalker, and James Bond are sitting in a bar discussing terrorism
““The Oxford dictionary definition of terrorism is;
“the unlawful use of violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims.”
That makes you both terrorists.”
says James Bond
“Why “unlawful”? Are violence and intimidation ever lawful? Planting bombs in people’s devices and blowing them up by remote control is not terrorism? But planting bombs on yourself and blowing up yourself and other people is terrorism?”
questions Luke Skywalker
“If the state does those things, it is lawful. A license to kill, don’t you know.”
responds 007 sipping his martini
“But what about Justice – right and wrong. Invading a country, destroying its infrastructure, and murdering its people is not terrorism according to you. But planting an improvised bomb by the roadside to blow up the vehicles of the invaders of your land is terrorism? One can be right, yet still be unlawful.”
says Batman
“So,”
says a confused Luke Skywalker.
“Dropping bombs on poor people from airplanes or directing missiles through a home’s window from warships is not terrorism; however, taking over an airplane and flying it into a building is terrorism?”
“I think you are on shaky ground there kid,”
says the Dark Knight finishing his 3rd glass of Prosecco and raising it in the air for another
“Freedom fighters are not terrorists”
says Mr. Bond
“But I’m a freedom fighter – a leader of a rebellion against an unjust empire”
ventures Luke
“you are part of the rebel alliance and a traitor…”
says Bond with a smirk
“If you are part of a uniformed military unit then perhaps you would not be a terrorist”
he continues
“So if I have money backing my actions I’m ok even my actions could be considered wrong?”
says the farm boy from Tatooine, drinking and leaving himself with a blue milk mustache
“Yes of course, I like beating up poor people who are wrong and instilling in them a sense of fear. Who doesn’t!”
Growls Batman
“Running around inside the Death Star shooting at Stormtroopers is terrorism. But blowing up the Death Star, using a squadron of X-wing fighters, killing everyone inside is not”
responds Bond
“That makes no sense,”
says the destroyer of the Death Star
“Welcome to the Justice system”
says Batman
“Next you’ll be saying that placing landmines all over the countryside so that they kill and maim farmers for years after a conflict that has otherwise left their land is not terrorism”
states Luke
“It’s not” says James fiddling with the olive in his martini.
“You kill people for a living, I have a code”
Batman says
“And who elected you?”
Retorts Bond
“Just because you are a billionaire does not make the world your playground to do with as you wish. The laws still apply to you. If you want to make a difference, get involved – not hide out in a cave. Be a good example for your peers and those that look up to you. Work for the people and the society you are so determined needs change but only on your own terms.”
From the other side of the bar comes a voice;
“The solution to terrorism is to stop committing it.”
Noam Chomsky continues
“Or at least admit that terrorism is what we call it when it is done to us. Just not when we do it to others.”
“SHUT UP”
says Batman, Luke Skywalker, and James Bond in unison
The three men’s only point of agreement of the evening as they continue drinking themselves into oblivion without resolution.
Pictures of old girlfriends I put them in a box The relationships and my emotions about them The photos hid in a computer folder Indexed and catalogued A box of ones and zeros
Just because you close a wound Does not stop it hurting Memories jostling to be ghosts or the moved on But memories are scabs Always ready to be picked over To bleed Never allowed time to turn into scars And pictures just seemed like a bad idea
Do faces in those old photographs Taken to immortalize a moment in time Think about what was? Do they have their own scabs to pick over Or are there just scars Memory of time passed and little else
But maybe it’s time to let go Time to put down the carried torches Extinguish the flames that were once fuel
So now the pictures are in frames Hung on walls They are my scars And if thoughts linger too much… there is pain But doesn’t that validate what we once had? Memories of the good and the bad
Running away was always cowardice Hiding not that much better So it is time for the pictures to see the light of day For my acknowledgement of their part In my story And if it hurts The melancholy is to be treasured Like the faces on the wall.
And I woke up to the end of the world Apocalypse of movies and fantasy Ash falling from the sky like leaves The sun a blood orange Smoke filling the air Noxious and acrid Blown in on Californian tides As the west burns
Polluting the artificial as nature intended Mountains vanished overnight The horizon transported to the Midwest plains Tall buildings, neon and video glamour, flattened to earth tones Like a sepia photograph Lost at the bottom of a drawer
But this is just an inconvenience The fall out of forestry mismanagement and climate change Not real the fallout of Threads or of The Day After Horrors delivered by television When the populace could be scared
Because it is the acceptance that is heartbreaking That the earth hemorrhages smoke that blankets two states And the interruption of daily runs and pool time are what seem to matter Where is the outrage, the tears for trees A public resource managed for private profit
Perhaps I will go back to bed. It is the end of the world after all.
I am the ultimate predator Unchanged since the time of the dinosaurs We and my kin have been here beyond memory We have seen glaciers advance and recede Continents split and form Fire of the gods fall from the sky And rise from the ground
Yet it is man who plagues our world The death and destruction he leaves in his wake He hunts us Like we hunt him But while we hunt to eat He hunts for our skins and for trophies With his numbers and machines His encroachment and his poisons We can but nibble at the edges of his world
So we make our home where we can
I and my family live in place that the men call Ramree Island In the mangrove swamps Living as we have always lived While men unleash their powers against each other Fire and metal Machine against machine And we die because we are inconvenient In the way of their senseless slaughter Their cannibalistic over consumption of themselves
Of late, the noise and destruction has been close to my home All we can do is shelter where we are And listen to their machines And to their self-destruction To men dying by man
However one night A thousand men ran into our home To make it their own They were tired, hungry, and scared They sought refuge, safety and sleep
But this is our home And while their weapons are fearsome So are we
We feasted like never before With the tables turned in our favor A hunting ground of our choosing We grabbed and rolled Pulling them under the water And ate all that moved
The night was filled with the sound of the screams of man And the sound of centuries of revenge A feast to tell of to our young The night we fought back
Enough for everyone A re-ascendancy to the throne of apex predator For one long night The men outside our swamp called us their allies They should not We would just have easily eaten you And you would have deserved it just as much
In the years since The “worst animal attack ever recorded” as man called it Has been called into question by men who were not there Who would tremble in our presence
But I and my kin remember Just as we remember the birds the next day Cleaning the meat from our teeth
This may be the world of man But I do not cry for you A reminder that while your technology insulates you We will still be here when you are gone
Who does not cry at the end of movies? When the dog dies Or when their father is on stage giving the speech of his life? Comfortable enough in my own masculinity I can admit some things
I cry at things that matter Like poetry, music, and at the end of movies When the dog dies
Real men are not afraid to have emotions To share them Just like any he/him she/her they/them
If this triggers you then perhaps alpha male is not what you think it is
I make things, I write things, I work with my hands, I work with my mind I speak to those who need to hear I speak to those who want to listen I employ people and try to be fair, equitable, and a promoter of integrity
And I would never be so crass as to define myself as an “alpha male” I don’t really care what people think I just care that they think
The software industry labels something as “alpha” when it needs testing and will have major errors “Beta” testing being where the errors are less pronounced The stage before software, the instructions for making things work, is ready for the grown-up world
Empathy is not the antithesis of masculinity It should define it A solution to masculinity that is toxic
The intellectual The gentleman The well read
These are terms that the world needs to be more proud of instead of
The influencer The billionaire The alpha male The dictator
Those who define themselves by the level of oppression they can inflict And the shallowness of their ideas The hate that runs in their veins
Vegas is a movie With George Clooney and Brad Pit standing sharp suited at the bar While Bradley Cooper and the gang of not quite so famous nurse a hangover And Hunter S. Thompson fears and loathes all that can be indulged and exploited A Rat Pack of dreams “Vegas is not ready for us” says the tourist upon whom this edifice of ziggurats was built
Vegas is a mirror A gaudy assault on the senses The sins and miracles of Midwesterners and coastal elites Laid bare, a reflection of America underneath the mask of church and flag The mocking of stone throwers returning to their glass houses, riverboat casinos, and online sportsbooks “Viva Las Vegas” the man said, holding chips and a free cocktail that cost him his mortgage payment
Vegas is a ladder Those reaching for the stars Or those pretending to be a few rungs higher than they are Or pretending to slum it with indulgencies and fantasies of self-destruction Others sliding to the bottom for real, their return ticket sold for an extra spin “You are not ready for Vegas” say the locals
Vegas is a culture The poets and musicians gathering in bars and bookshops While the artists paint the walls of buildings within the city limits Their truth more alive through juxtaposition An awareness of how the world sees and how the world is With theatre and song as a gateway drug “You don’t know us” says the writer, poolside on a summer’s day
Vegas is an underground A network of tunnels and homelessness The victims of gentrification, hostile architecture, and the illegality of being unsightly on the streets A refuge from the sun Fatally ripped away with every monsoon season “You don’t belong here” say the Mole People with good reason
There is a mist over Vegas A Las Vegas fog of perception and myth Who needs the mob when you have shareholders and venture capitalists When what is needed is public transportation if we can’t have free parking A destination and a home “You live in Vegas?” Asks the ones who have never been and sit in judgement.
So here we are We two You picking up a poetry book And me writing about you pooping We both have some shit to get rid of
Feel superior while you work out your posterior Your friends and family are all on their smart phones Watching TikTok’s and pretending to not scroll through Facebook Hopefully nobody is gathering content for Instagram
Revel in this alone time We get so little in our self-imposed media saturation That is of course if the dog leaves you alone And the cat stops watching
This is the room without a television Except the one masquerading as a telephone Exceptions of course for the Uber rich Maybe that will be the line in the sand The first against the wall when the revolution comes “TV in your bathroom?” Against the wall you go
Although the inverse, a book of poetry, might be an equidistant line Sorry dear reader If that’s the case take heart for I’ll have already been against that wall
How are things moving along? Has all this talk of revolution and media helped or hindered? It is of course the reality of our world for terms to be appropriated and neutered Revolution should mean blood in the streets Not the new iPhone
So if all this sphincter puckering has not ruined your alone time Let me leave you with one final thought before the toilet paper and flush
To question the status quo, the comforts and convenience, that imprison us Has gotten a bad wrap The Luddite’s, forever misunderstood, 19th century grassroots movements suck at marketing, had a point
If you are reading these scatalogical prose on the porcelain throne You are already fighting against that steady and constant pull The suck of dopamine addiction And the quest for internet fame
So I salute you pooper for fighting back against the tide One poem, one dump, at a time.
Word Outlet 