Why UFO Sightings Are Not Due to Human Advanced Avionic Testing

For years, I’ve been sceptical of the theory that UFO sightings are simply due to secret advanced military aircraft. This explanation is often used to debunk UFO sightings. However, several issues challenge its validity.

For decades, reports have surfaced about experimental aircraft boasting extraordinary capabilities—such as rapid acceleration to hypersonic speeds and advanced manoeuvrability. Yet, these technologies have yet to be integrated into general aviation or military fleets. If these aircraft are as advanced as claimed, why haven’t they progressed beyond the experimental stage or been utilised in practical applications? The persistent absence of such technologies in everyday use suggests that they may not be as advanced as some assume.

Another significant problem is the high visibility associated with these supposed advanced technologies. Reports often describe UFOs performing manoeuvres and achieving speeds that defy known physics. Testing such technologies in a highly visible manner seems counterintuitive. Military and aerospace projects are typically conducted in secrecy, with tests designed to avoid detection. The frequent visibility of these supposed advanced aircraft in reported sightings casts doubt on the notion that they are top-secret technologies.

Reports of extreme acceleration—such as transitioning from a standstill to the speed of sound in mere seconds—pose major challenges from a physics perspective. Such rapid acceleration would generate enormous g-forces, potentially destroying any known materials or harming occupants, including pilots. If propulsion technologies capable of these feats truly existed, we would expect to see more tangible evidence of their practicality and feasibility. The ongoing lack of such evidence suggests that the capabilities of these technologies may be more speculative than real.

Developing new technologies involves substantial financial and logistical challenges. The transition from experimental prototypes to mass production requires significant investment. If advanced aircraft with extraordinary capabilities were in development, the economic pressures to bring them to market would be considerable. Furthermore, any country would view such technologies as crucial for defense, making their development even more pressing. The lack of such advanced aircraft in operational use is telling.

A particularly telling point is the moon landings of the 1960s. If advanced propulsion technologies capable of remarkable feats existed before the 1960s, their absence in the Apollo missions is conspicuous. The Saturn V rocket, which successfully took humans to the moon, relied on conventional chemical rocket technology. If more advanced systems had been available, they likely would have been utilised for such a monumental endeavour in human history. The reliance on traditional rockets for space travel suggests that such advanced technologies were not in existence.

The absence of these technologies in practical use, the paradox of their visibility, the feasibility issues, the economic constraints and the historical context of space exploration all suggest that the reality may not align with sensational claims.

Time Starts for No One

Time is something we are all familiar with. We use it to talk about how long things last, plan our activities and discuss when events occur. We organise our lives with schedules and timetables. To some people, it passes slowly, while to others it flies by. But I view time as something that isn't a tangible entity; rather, it's a concept we invented to make sense of changes and sequences in the world around us. It helps us measure intervals between events and organise our experiences in a structured way. However, the idea that time is a real, independent entity—existing outside of our minds—could be problematic. This notion might even be a mistake with significant implications for scientific theories that depend on time being real.

Science often relies on the concept of time to build theories, conduct experiments and make predictions. Time appears in scientific equations across various fields, from Newtonian mechanics to quantum physics and is crucial to models explaining physical systems. For instance, classical mechanics uses time to describe motion, while relativity incorporates time into the framework of spacetime.

If time is merely a concept we invented, then its use in science might be problematic. Theories that treat time as a real, physical entity could be flawed if they don’t recognise that time is more of a conceptual tool than an independent reality.

In Newtonian mechanics, time is treated as a constant and unchanging variable. For example, equations like F = ma (force equals mass times acceleration) use time to explain motion. However, if time is just a concept we invented, treating it as absolute might lead to an incomplete or incorrect view of reality. Newton’s equations assume time is uniform and constant, which might not accurately reflect the true nature of the physical world.

Einstein’s theory of relativity revolutionised our understanding of time by integrating it into the concept of spacetime. According to relativity, time is not fixed; it can vary depending on speed and gravitational fields. This theory is effective in predicting physical events and has been supported by experiments. Nevertheless, it still treats time as a real aspect of spacetime. If time is merely a conceptual invention and not a physical dimension, the foundational principles of relativity might need re-examination.

Quantum mechanics also uses time to describe how quantum states and interactions evolve. For instance, the Schrödinger equation employs time to predict the behavior of quantum systems. Yet, if time is just a concept, relying on it as a real dimension in these equations could obscure the true nature of quantum processes.

If time is indeed just a concept, then scientific theories that treat it as a real entity might have inherent limitations. Here are a few potential issues:

1. Treating time as a tangible dimension could lead to misunderstandings about physical processes. Focusing on time as a real entity might obscure other important aspects of phenomena that do not rely on time.

2. Relying on time as a real variable might constrain scientific thinking to a fixed paradigm. This rigidity could inhibit the development of alternative models that might offer better explanations of physical reality.

3. Experiments measuring time-dependent phenomena might be limited by the very concept of time. If time isn’t a physical reality, the accuracy and applicability of these measurements could be compromised.

To address these potential challenges, scientists may need to reconsider how they incorporate time into their theories. Exploring alternative hypotheses that do not rely on time as a real entity could provide new insights and lead to more nuanced understandings of the natural world. As we continue our quest for knowledge, it’s crucial to recognise the limitations of time-based concepts and remain open to new perspectives for a deeper understanding of our world.

Why Poetry Book Covers Could Benefit from Consistency Like Album Art

In the publishing world, book covers come and go, updated with each new edition to reflect changing trends or marketing strategies. This is especially true for poetry collections, where cover designs frequently change with reprints or reissues. But what if poetry covers were treated more like album art? Iconic, unchanging and forever linked to the work they represent. Here are some reasons why I think poetry could benefit from the kind of consistent, memorable cover art that has made album covers such powerful cultural symbols.

The most famous album covers—The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, David Bowie’s Aladdin Sane, Bob Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde and Joni Mitchell’s Blue, to name just a few—are instantly recognisable and have become iconic and forever linked to the music they represent. They aren’t just marketing tools, they’re part of the album’s identity.

Imagine if poetry collections had the same kind of lasting visual presence. Unfortunately, poetry covers tend to change with each new edition, diluting their impact over time. A classic collection might have five or six different covers, each reflecting the design trends of its era. This constant change can make it harder for a poetry collection to leave a lasting visual impression.

By adopting a more consistent approach to cover design, poetry collections could develop strong visual identities that endure. A memorable, iconic cover can enhance a collection’s cultural significance and make it stand out in bookshops, online and in the minds of readers.

One of the reasons vinyl records have seen a resurgence in popularity is the collectibility of iconic album art. Original pressings with their original covers are prized by collectors, not just for the music but for the unique combination of sound and visual design. Collectors often seek out these albums as much for the cover art as for the music inside.

Poetry collections could benefit from this same sense of collectibility. A first edition of a classic poetry collection with its original, iconic cover could become a sought-after item, valued not only for its literary content but as a piece of visual art. Consistent cover designs could make poetry books more collectible, adding a new layer of value and interest for readers and collectors alike.

In today’s multimedia world, where art forms often blend and overlap, having a consistent visual identity can be a powerful tool. We see this with musicians whose album art becomes part of their broader artistic expression, from music videos to concert posters to social media profiles.

Poetry is increasingly crossing over into other media. Spoken word performances, poetry readings on YouTube and multimedia poetry projects are all blurring the lines between literature, performance and visual art. A consistent and iconic cover design could help poetry collections establish a stronger presence in this cross-media landscape, creating a cohesive brand that resonates across different platforms.

While poetry covers have traditionally been fluid and subject to change, there’s a strong case to be made for treating them more like album art. In an era where visual identity plays an increasingly important role in artistic success, poetry has much to gain from embracing the enduring power of a well-designed, consistent cover.

Exploring the Art of Generalisation: Songs vs. Poetry

What distinguishes a song from a poem? Is it the melody or the vocal delivery, the lyrics or the musical arrangement? Certainly, it encompasses all these elements. However, for me, the key difference lies in how songs tend to generalise, whereas many contemporary poems do not. When I refer to “contemporary poems”, I primarily mean anecdotal or descriptive pieces that lack ambiguity or mystery, which are often read by poetry enthusiasts. Such poems often fail to resonate personally with readers because they primarily serve as vehicles for straightforward information transfer—information that could easily be conveyed through prose. These poems aim to express the poet’s thoughts and emotions regarding specific events, situations or places, without necessarily inviting readers to connect personally. The focus is on clarity of communication, whether conveying a profound insight, a prosaic observation or a commentary on everyday life.

Songs go beyond mere description. They activate both the imagination and emotions, allowing listeners to delve into their own deeply personal reservoirs of images, memories and associations. There was a time when poetry achieved this too, similar to songs, by employing generalisation. However, since Wordsworth’s era—and largely influenced by him—poetry has shifted more towards novelistic and descriptive forms. Before Wordsworth, poets like William Blake or Thomas Wyatt adhered more closely to the traditions of song and ballad, avoiding extensive descriptive elements. It is widely acknowledged that songs pre-date poetry—or rather, songs transformed into poems once they were transcribed and read privately.

The limitations of poetry that does not generalise are plain to see if we compare some lines from one with those of a song. First the poetry—a stanza from Frank O’Hara’s ‘Cambridge’:

It is still raining and the yellow-green cotton fruit

looks silly round a window giving out on winter trees

with only three drab leaves left. The hot plate works,

it is the sole heat on earth, and instant coffee. I

put on my warm corduroy pants, a heavy maroon sweater,

and wrap myself in my old maroon bathrobe.

What we see here is straightforward and descriptive writing that leaves little room for the reader’s imagination. In contrast, let’s examine song lyrics, specifically those of Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan. In Cohen’s ‘Night Comes On’, we find this verse:

I said mother I’m frightened,

the thunder and the lightening,

I’ll never get through this alone.

She said I’ll be with you,

my shawl wrapped around you,

my hand on your head when you go.

And the night came on,

it was very calm.

I wanted the night to go on and on

but she said go back,

go back to the world.

In contrast to O’Hara, Cohen embraces generalisation in his verse, opening up a wealth of interpretive possibilities. Right from the outset, ambiguity dominates as listeners are left pondering whether the speaker addresses his literal biological mother or if ‘mother’ serves as a metaphor for God or Mother Nature. Similarly, the thunder and lightning that instil fear are ambiguous—whether they are literal or symbolic remains uncertain. This ambiguity enriches each listener’s experience, allowing them to interpret the nature of the speaker’s fear differently.

Furthermore, this ambiguity invites numerous inquiries. When the speaker’s mother assures him of her presence wherever he goes, the listener is prompted to question: Where exactly is he headed? Is he venturing into the fearful scenario symbolised by thunder and lightning? Could this be an existential ordeal akin to the “dark night of the soul” as described by Christian contemplatives? Is the “night” in ‘the night came on’ also metaphorical, perhaps representing a sense of comfort and reassurance? If so, does the speaker desire this reassurance to persist? Likely so, yet there’s a suggestion to ‘go back to the world’. Who issues this advice—the maternal figure or the night itself, in whatever symbolic form it represents?

The fact that this verse provokes such inquiries underscores its transcendence over the earlier quoted stanza by O’Hara.

Similar ambiguities and the questions they prompt can be found in the following verse from Dylan’s ‘Changing of the Guards’:

Fortune calls.

I stepped forth from the shadows, to the marketplace,

Merchants and thieves, hungry for power, my last deal gone down.

She’s smelling sweet like the meadows where she was born,

On midsummer’s eve, near the tower.

Similar to Cohen, Dylan embraces generalisation in his verse, blending various poetic registers to create a tapestry of language that both diversifies his expression and pays homage to his poetic lineage. He interweaves archaic phrases like ‘I stepped forth’, ‘smelling sweet like the meadows’ and ‘on midsummer’s eve’ with more colloquial language such as ‘last deal gone down’. This linguistic variety enriches the verse while acknowledging his poetic heritage.

The verse begins by declaring ‘fortune calls’, yet Dylan leaves it open-ended, leaving listeners to ponder: Is fortune beckoning the speaker, the audience or humanity at large? This ambiguity empowers the listener to interpret as they see fit. The introduction of a persona stepping forth from shadows adds another layer of intrigue—the identity of this persona remains ambiguous and unexplored, leaving ample room for interpretation. Even the term ‘shadows’, deliberately vague, invites myriad interpretations.

Moreover, Dylan employs phrases like ‘merchants and thieves’ and ‘hungry for power’ not only as specific symbols of corruption, decay and amorality but also as broader statements on the human condition. These phrases provoke further questions: Who is the woman ‘smelling sweet’ like the meadows? Why is “meadows” plural—does it symbolise something beyond its literal meaning? And what about the tower—does it hold symbolic significance as well?

In essence, Dylan’s verse, like Cohen’s, invites interpretation through its generalisations and poetic blending, making it a rich and layered piece that transcends simple description.

Similarly with Dylan’s song ‘The Wicked Messenger’, more questions are raised than answered:

There was a wicked messenger

from Eli he did come,

with a mind that multiplied

the smallest matter.

When questioned who had sent for him,

he answered with his thumb,

for his tongue it could not speak, but only flatter.

We note immediately the presence of ambiguity with the line: ‘from Eli he did come’. We are not told if Eli is a place or a person. The name has biblical connotations and can easily be a person. In the Old Testament Eli was the judge and high priest of Israel and although loyal to God, his reluctance to remove his two corrupt sons from the priesthood resulted in disgrace. Dylan’s lack of indication as to whom or what Eli is allows us to perhaps see a biblical reference in the name. If we take the name as referring to the biblical Eli then we have to ask the question: If the messenger was sent by Eli (who was a faithful servant of God) why is he seen as wicked? Is it because his mind ‘multiplied the smallest matter’ (possibly meaning he was neurotic) or that his ‘tongue it could not speak, but only flatter’ (possibly meaning he was a liar)? Are these common human failings sufficient grounds for someone to be designated as wicked? Alternatively, perhaps the messenger is wicked because there is a crudity about him—he ‘answered with his thumb’ (he gave the finger, perhaps?). For want of detailed information, we simply do not know.

So for me, each reader deserves the essential right to craft a personal meaning that encapsulates the essence of a poem. The poem itself serves primarily as a catalyst for this interpretive act. Embracing such an approach to poetry reading could potentially elevate poetry back to its rightful place as a significant and widely appreciated art form.

Is Poetry Still Stuck on the Bookshelf?

Tony Frazer of Shearsman Press said in a 2017 online discussion that ‘few poetry books sell 500 copies. I’ve been told that a sale of 500 is good going for a poetry small press in the USA’. Yet Tony, and many other publishers, have remained steadfastly loyal to the print book format as a means of disseminating poetry.

Perhaps the main reason why poetry print books don’t sell well is that the market for purchasable poetry has diminished since the 1960s. Several interrelated factors contributed to this decline. The rise of mass media, particularly television and later the internet, has shifted public attention away from traditional forms of literature, including poetry. Additionally, the educational focus has shifted away from arts and humanities subjects, resulting in fewer people being exposed to and appreciating poetry. The publishing industry’s commercial focus on best-selling prose fiction has also marginalised poetry, which is viewed as less profitable. Furthermore, cultural and societal changes have altered the way people engage with and consume literature, with a preference for more immediate and accessible forms of entertainment. These factors, coupled with the soaring cost of poetry print books over the past 30 years, have contributed to diminished sales.

However, this doesn’t appear to be the case regarding free poetry ebooks, which are becoming increasingly popular. Studies show that over 70% of poetry readers are receptive to digital formats for poetry, in the form of ebooks and audiobooks. My own experience of publishing free poetry ebooks since 2010 supports this trend, with each ebook receiving between 20 and 60 downloads a day.

I first became aware of the reach of free poetry ebooks when Geoffrey Gatza published my long poem Carrier of the Seed as an ebook, and I found out after a few months that it had over 8000 downloads. I was very pleased, as it garnered hundreds more readers than it would have had if it was a print book. For me, gaining lots of readers is preferable to holding a beautifully printed book in my hands that doesn’t sell well and remains largely unread.

I am aware, however, that downloads don’t necessarily indicate how many people actually read the ebooks, but downloads do indicate reach and potential engagement. The more downloads, the higher the chances of actual engagement. While I can only estimate the number of actual readers, if one of my ebooks is recorded as having 1000 downloads a week, I assume that even if not all of those people read it, there are still likely more actual readers than would buy a physical version of that ebook in a week. This can’t really be said about people browsing the poetry section in a bookshop, where most shops probably stock less than 30 copies of each poetry book they try to sell.

One common objection to ebooks is based on the assumption that there’s a difference in the quality of the reading experience between on-screen and in-print texts, with the latter being seen as more conducive to “deep” reading.

But I don’t necessarily see such a difference—at least not in terms of “quality.” There is, of course, a different physical experience between reading a book and reading on-screen. The most obvious being that you can feel the texture of a book in your hands while reading it. For some, this in itself is the sole reason why they buy books. As to the psychological experiences that the contents of a book induce in the reader while reading it and those induced while reading on-screen, I can’t say I’ve noticed a difference.

Moreover, now that devices for reading ebooks can replicate the look of printed pages (even in sunlight), their “on-screen” display is no different from that of a printed page. With PCs, the difference still pertains, but almost everyone now downloads ebooks to reading devices. Such devices also weigh less than a thick paperback book and are effortless to hold. I’ve read books whose enjoyment has been ruined because they are too thick and heavy. An example is The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism. It’s so thick and heavy that reading it is unpleasant for me.

Nikki van der Zyl RIP

I heard recently that Nikki van der Zyl, the woman who dubbed the voices for many of the leading female characters in the Bond films (Honey Ryder in Dr No; Sylvia Trench in From Russia with Love; Jill Masterson in Goldfinger; Dominique Derval in Thunderball; and Kissy Suzuki in You Only Live Twice), died in 2021.

I was in email contact with her in 2019, after I emailed her telling her how much I appreciated what she had done for the Bond films. She thanked me, and sent me a copy of her autobiography.

I lost contact with her in 2020. I think she might have caught Covid in a bad way, and that was what eventually caused her death. She was 84, and lots of people that age were dying from Covid. May she rest in piece.

The Limitations of Visual Poetry

In The Reader, the Text, the Poem, Louise Rosenblatt says: ‘The poem, then, must be thought of as an event in time. It is not an object or an ideal entity. It happens during a coming-together, a compentration, of a reader and a text’. She later elaborates:

‘The reading of a text is an event occurring at a particular time in a particular environment at a particular moment in the life history of the reader. The transaction will involve not only the past experience but also the present state and present interests or preoccupations of the reader. This suggests the possibility that printed marks on a page may even become different linguistic symbols by virtue of transactions with different readers. Just as knowing is the process linking a knower and a known, so a poem should not be thought of as an object, an entity, but rather as an active process lived through during the relationship between a reader and a text’.

For the poem to be experienced as an event in time, the importance of mental activity, or “internalisation”, in the reader cannot be overestimated. By internalisation I mean that part of the reader’s response that is able, through conscious decision, to minimise the relevance of the text in the hermeneutical process. This is difficult to achieve with poetry in which the artifice (in the form of certain extra-lexical ingredients—such as the visual and acoustic) is foregrounded at the expense of semantic elements. Such poetry inhibits internalisation and is, as Charles Bernstein has said, ‘concerned only with representing its own mechanisms’.

These elements of artifice are, like painting and music, non-semantic and, as such, they preclude an exegetical response that is distinct from the hermeneutical procedures employed in the reception of non-representational visual art and music. In ‘The Dollar Value of Poetry’ Charles Bernstein advocates a poetics that is grounded in experiences that are released in the reading: a ‘nongeneralzable residue that is specific to each particular experience’. In this sense, then, poetry is seen as being untranslatable and unparaphrasable for ‘what is untranslatable is the sum of all the specific conditions of the experience (place, time, order, light, mood, position, to infinity) made available by reading’. Bernstein sees this untranslatability as being misunderstood by advocates of ‘certain “concretist” tendencies, who see in radical concrete procedures the manifestation of untranslatability at its fullest flowering’. As Bernstein, stresses ‘what is not translatable is the experience released in the reading’. He goes on to say that ‘in so far as some “visual poems” move toward making the understanding independent of the language it is written in, i.e., no longer requiring translation, they are, indeed, no longer so much writing as works of visual art. In ‘Words and Pictures’, he emphasises the linguistic and semantic criteria necessary for any aesthetic of viewer/reception theory to be plausible: ‘visual experience is only validated when accompanied by a logico-verbal explanation’. For Bernstein, then, as he says in ‘Thought’s Measure’, ‘there is meaning only in terms of language’.

Furthermore, he is well aware of the dangers of too much foregrounding of artifice when he writes in ‘Artifice of Absorption’:

‘In my poems, I frequently use opaque & nonabsorbable elements, digressions & interruptions, as part of a technological arsenal to create a more powerful (“souped up”) absorption than possible with traditional, & blander, absorptive techniques. This is a precarious road because insofar as the poem seems overtly self-conscious, as opposed to internally incantatory or psychically actual, it may produce self-consciousness in the reader in such a way as to destroy his or her absorption by theatricalizing or conceptualizing the text, removing it from the realm of an experience engendered to that of a technique exhibited’.

Bernstein welcomes internalisation. Without it, it is impossible for poetry to be experienced as an event in time. However, he does tend to view the semantic field as incorporating non-lexical features of a poem. While I agree with incorporation in principle, in practice it is psychologically problematical for most readers. This is perhaps why such poetry is deemed “difficult”.

It could be argued that visual poetry is, indeed, semantic. I agree to an extent. For instance, Ernst Gomringer’s ‘WIND’ (which plays with associations such as the words “in” and “win” contained within the word “WIND”) and Augusto de Campos’s ‘CODIGO’ (which contains the word “God” as an anagram and alludes to “cogito ergo sum”) do, indeed, operate semantically. Nevertheless, their semantic operations are extremely meagre. With ‘WIND’ the associations come to only two words: “win” and “in” (perhaps also the word “wind”, as in to wind a clock). The same limitations can be seen in de Campos’s ‘CODIGO’. Apart from a reader’s fleeting appreciation of the novel aspects of these poems their affects are exhausted no sooner than they are recognised.

In contrast, if we compare the following lines from ‘Into the Day’ by J. H. Prynne with ‘WIND’ and ‘CODIGO’ we can see their limitations more clearly:

‘Who does we reign our royal house

is roofed with fateful slates’

These lines begin with the words ‘who does’ which immediately puts us into questioning mode, but the next word, ‘we’, draws our attention to the grammatical inappropriateness of the preceding word, ‘does’, in its location between ‘who’ and ‘we’. We have been led to expect a question but the grammatically incorrect syntax has frustrated this expectation. We are left instead with a language that rather than denoting a position of enquiry relies, instead, on connotation for this effect. This sort of “question” belongs to an “enquiry” that is syntactical rather than referential. In other words it is language pretending to be a question.

Similarly, ‘our royal house is roofed with fateful slates’ although syntactically correct contain the juxtaposition of ‘fateful’ with ‘slates’, two words not usually associated or combined with each other. This cannot be said of ‘roofed’ and ‘slate’ which often share the same juxtaposition. If the word ‘fateful’ had not been included there would be little room for plurality of meaning. The word ‘slates’ would mean solely roofing materials. It is the juxtaposition of ‘fateful’ and ‘slates’ that produces the plurality. A few of the dictionary definitions of the word ‘slate’ are: 1) a fine-grained rock that can be easily split into thin layers and is used as a roofing material. 2) a roofing tile of slate. 3) a writing tablet of slate. 4) a dark grey colour. 5) a list of candidates in an election. ‘Slate’ is, thus, rich in connotation. The addition of ‘fateful’ enables any one of these meanings to become appropriate. For example, it is quite possible to have a fateful dark grey colour—as in the sense of an omen. So, too, is it possible to have a fateful group of electoral candidates.

If we were to choose this latter image for one of the meanings of ‘fateful slates’ we could make it fit into the rest of the sentence (if it can rightly be called one) by opening up the meanings of ‘our royal house is roofed with’. This is fairly simple, as the idea of electoral candidates enables ‘royal house’ to connote a political arena of some sort as suggested by the word ‘house’ (The Houses of Parliament or The White House, for example). The word ‘roofed’ connotes a ‘covering-over’—a protection of some sort, as in the image of a bird’s wing covering and protecting its young. If we take this as our connotation, then one of the many meanings of ‘our royal house is roofed with fateful slates’ could be: ‘Our political system is protected from tyranny by its processes of electing political candidates who are under oath (fated) to guarantee this freedom from tyranny’. This interpretation of Prynne’s 12 words is only possible with a richer semantic field of possibilities than both ‘WIND’ and ‘CODIGO’ provide.

The formal qualities of a poem are, of course, important but only indirectly: in that they facilitate the inner ear’s appreciation of the poem’s sonorous qualities. They do not contribute overmuch semantically. The only thing of importance is the mental activity experienced by the reader. The reader’s attention should not be focused on the poem’s structure or its rhetorical devices but, rather, should be concentrated on the resonance produced by the semantic qualities of the lexis. Only in this way, then, can the poem be fully experienced as mental activity. It must be remembered that a poem is primarily “heard” in the mind. All that we are able to glean from a poem is conveyed through the poems semantic operation. To argue that the formal qualities of the text facilitate a more than limited semantic response is to rely too heavily on an aesthetic theory that is more appropriate to the visual arts.

How the Far-Right use the One World Government Conspiracy Theory to Influence Disaffected Voters

For almost a century, the far-right has used the one world government conspiracy theory as a means to influence disaffected voters. This theory, which posits the existence of a secretive globalist elite who want to establish a global government, that will erode national sovereignty and individual freedoms, has thrived amid widespread political, social and economic uncertainties. The far right’s use of this narrative, enables fear and distrust to galvanise support and foster a sense of urgency among its base.

The irony of the far right’s use of the one world government conspiracy theory to influence voters is striking. They rail against globalist organisations, portraying them as enemies of national sovereignty and individual freedom. Yet, many of these organisations are fundamentally corporate capitalists, entities that the far right traditionally supports for their market-driven policies and economic ideologies. This paradox highlights a selective narrative that ignores the alignment between the far right’s pro-capitalist stance and the capitalist nature of these global entities. By attacking these organisations, the far right taps into populist fears and distrust, even as it indirectly undermines the very economic principles it claims to uphold.

The far right’s attraction to the one world government conspiracy theory can be traced back to historical contexts and ideological foundations that emphasise nationalism, sovereignty and scepticism of global institutions. During the Cold War, anti-communist sentiments were welded to fears of a monolithic global government, depicted as a threat to national sovereignty and individual freedoms. This ideological backdrop provided fertile ground for the far-right to incorporate the one world government conspiracy theory into their rhetoric.

Today, the far-right target international organisations such as the United Nations, the European Union and the World Health Organisation. These organisations are portrayed as instruments of a sinister elite determined to undermine national sovereignty. By framing these organisations as such, the far-right can rally their base against perceived external threats.

Economic downturns, job losses due to free-market capitalism and rapid social changes, create a sense of instability and fear among the populace. The far-right tap into these sentiments by attributing economic hardships and social changes to the machinations of a global elite. This narrative simplifies complex issues, providing clear culprits and thus attracting disaffected voters.

The far-right’s use of the one world government conspiracy theory often includes strong appeals to nationalism and patriotism. By invoking the idea that global elites are undermining national identity and sovereignty, the far-right can foster a sense of pride and urgency to “take back” the country from these perceived threats.

Social media and alternative media outlets have become crucial tools for disseminating the one world government conspiracy theory. The far-right use these outlets to bypass traditional media, which they portray as complicit in the conspiracy. Through viral content, memes and videos, they can reach a broad audience and create echo chambers that reinforce their message.

The one world government conspiracy theory is used to polarise political discourse, framing the far right as the defenders of freedom and sovereignty against a corrupt global elite. This us-versus-them narrative intensifies political divisions and compels voters to align with the far right as a means of protecting their perceived interests and values.

In the United States, Alex Jones, Donald Trump, Tucker Carlson and Steve Bannon have promoted the one world government conspiracy theory. Jones, through his platform Infowars, has long promoted the idea that globalists are plotting to undermine American sovereignty. Trump’s rhetoric often echoed these themes, particularly in his criticisms of international trade agreements and immigration policies, which he framed as tools of global elites. And Carlson and Bannon have similarly promoted these conspiracy theories, using their influence to warn of an imminent loss of national autonomy and to rally support against perceived globalist threats.

In Europe, far-right parties like the French National Front (now National Rally) and Germany’s Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) have used similar rhetoric, and criticise the European Union as a vehicle for global elites to erode national sovereignty and impose unfavourable policies on member states.

The Brexit campaign in the UK also saw the use of one world government rhetoric. Proponents of Brexit argued that leaving the European Union was necessary to reclaim British sovereignty from unelected bureaucrats in Brussels, framing the European Union as part of a broader globalist agenda.

By framing international organisations and global cooperation as existential threats to national sovereignty and individual freedoms, far-right leaders can rally their base and attract voters who feel disenchanted with the status quo. As long as economic and social uncertainties persist, this narrative is likely to remain a significant force in far-right politics, shaping voter behavior and political discourse.

The Vinyl Record Analogy of Time

The concept of time has mystified philosophers and scientists for centuries. How does it flow? Can it be altered? Does free will exist in a timeline that seems unchangeable? I have been thinking about time since I was 14. Back then, I was fascinated by H. G. Well’s novel The Time Machine, and the film version of it starring Rod Taylor. I read as much as I could about the various ideas about time—which was hard to do in 1977, as a 14 year old, with access to only a public library that was lacking in books about theoretical physics. However, I managed to envisage time in a way that made sense to me, and came up with an analogy of time using a vinyl record as an illustration. I am presenting this analogy here, in the hope that it might be seen by scientists who are interested in time, and who might find it of use in some way. The vinyl record analogy of time helps simplify our understanding of time by likening it to a vinyl record. This analogy not only addresses several philosophical problems but also implies a deterministic view of the universe, challenging our conventional notions of free will.

The analogy imagines time as a long-playing vinyl record. Each groove on the record represents a specific period, with the entire record encapsulating the entirety of time from the beginning to the end of the universe. The stylus of a record player, moving along these grooves, symbolises the passage of time. This analogy suggests that all moments in time exist simultaneously, much like all parts of a song exist at once on a record. The movement of the stylus (time’s flow) determines which part is currently being “played” or experienced. This analogy addresses several philosophical problems encountered by scientists.

Causal Consistency

One of the significant issues in time travel theory is the problem of causal consistency. Paradoxes such as the famous grandfather paradox, where a time traveller might prevent their own existence, pose logical problems. In the vinyl record analogy, each groove (time period) is immutable. A time traveller could move to different points in time but would be unable to alter any events. This preserves causal consistency, as the timeline remains unaffected by the traveller’s presence.

Observer Effect

The observer effect, where the mere act of observing a system can alter its state, is another critical issue. As a “ghost” in this analogy, the time traveller can observe different time periods without interacting with or influencing the events. This non-interactive presence ensures that history unfolds exactly as it always has, maintaining the integrity of the timeline.

Nature of Time

The vinyl record analogy aligns with the block universe theory in physics, where past, present and future coexist. This concept helps us understand time as a dimension where all points exist simultaneously, making the idea of moving between these points more intuitive. However, while the vinyl record analogy solves several philosophical problems, it also implies a deterministic view of the universe. If every groove on the record is unchangeable, then every event in the past, present and future is fixed. This deterministic framework suggests that all actions and outcomes are pre-determined, raising questions about the nature of free will.

In an immutable time model, the universe operates like a pre-recorded song. Every decision, action and outcome is embedded within the grooves of time. This means that free will, as traditionally understood, is an illusion. Individuals experience making choices, but these choices are pre-determined by the fixed sequence of events. If all events are pre-determined, the sensation of making free choices is merely an experience without actual freedom to alter the course of events. This challenges the core of human autonomy and responsibility.

The vinyl record analogy of time provides a framework for understanding the nature of time and addressing the mentioned philosophical problems related to time travel and causality.

The Marginalisation of Poetry as a Significant Art Form

At one time, poetry was viewed as being the apex of literary accomplishment. However, in contemporary cultural discourse, poetry’s cultural significance and influence in the public sphere have diminished considerably. This decline can be attributed to several interrelated factors, including shifts in educational paradigms, the ascendancy of digital media and evolving cultural values.

The pedagogical approach to poetry has undergone a significant transformation in the past few decades. Historically, poetry was integral to the curriculum, forming the fundamentals of literary education and playing a crucial role in the cognitive and affective development of students.

In contemporary education, the emphasis is on teaching Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics. While the importance of these fields is undeniable, the accompanying devaluation of the humanities, and poetry in particular, represents a worrying trend. As educational priorities shift towards utilitarian objectives aimed at economic productivity, the intrinsic aesthetic and intellectual value of poetic engagement is increasingly marginalised. Consequently, students are less likely to encounter poetry in a meaningful manner, leading to a generational disaffection from this once ubiquitous art form.

The digital revolution has fundamentally transformed the conditions of artistic consumption. In an era where visual and interactive media are dominant, the contemplative nature of poetry is at a disadvantage. Platforms such as YouTube, TikTok and Instagram have come to define contemporary cultural consumption, catering to shortened attention spans and a predilection for visually stimulating content.

The transience and immediacy characteristic of social media have redefined the value of language and expression. The emphasis on quick (and often cruel) wit and instant gratification, evident in tweets, memes and viral videos, contrasts with the meditative nature and intricate linguistic expression inherent in poetry. In this digital cacophony, poetry’s nuanced and introspective qualities are overshadowed, rendering it less accessible and appealing to the broader public.

Cultural values have undergone a transformation that further marginalises poetry. In a society increasingly driven by speed and consumerism, there is a propensity for art forms that offer immediate, tangible returns. Poetry, with its demands for patience, reflection and deep engagement with texts, is incompatible with these values. The modern imperative for productivity and efficiency leaves little room for the deliberate and contemplative engagement that poetry requires.

Within the literary world itself, poetry no longer commands a unified audience. The proliferation of diverse genres and styles has resulted in a fragmented poetic audience. Although the diversification of poetic expression is undoubtedly positive, it also means that poetry lacks a cohesive movement or collective voice capable of capturing widespread public attention in order to be viewed as culturally significant.

Furthermore, the specialised nature of contemporary poetry scenes can engender insularity, appealing predominantly to niche audiences rather than the general public. This insularity impedes poetry’s ability to maintain a significant presence in the broader cultural milieu. This specialisation may also be responsible for what some see as contemporary poetry’s innate inability to elicit as deep an emotional response as, for example, song is able to—song being, perhaps, the current successor to poetry.

While poetry has not yet been consigned to oblivion, its role as a significant art form has diminished. The shift in educational paradigms, the dominance of digital media, the evolution of cultural values and the fragmentation of the poetic audience all contribute to this decline. As cultural values shift towards immediacy and instant gratification, the patience required to appreciate poetry becomes rarer.

Paul Simister RIP

A good friend of mine, Paul Simister, died recently. I first met him in 1982 when I was 19 and he was 36. We were both studying at Mabel Fletcher’s College of Music and Drama in Liverpool, where he was studying music and I was studying drama. He had been playing the guitar for several years before I met him, having taught himself, but went to the college to learn music theory.

He played the guitar to a very good standard, even though he was self-taught, and could play most styles of guitar music, from blues to classical. In his late fifties, he taught himself to play classical piano to a fairly good standard. He was also a talented sketch artist and could draw life-like pencil portraits of people, having studied art before I met him.

In 1987, he taught me to play folk guitar, and I was able to learn some folk guitar picking styles within a few months. I didn’t have a guitar, so he gave me one of his. He had several guitars and lots of guitar equipment, like plectrums, capos, tuners and guitar chord songbooks. He gave me some of these too. I wouldn’t have been able to learn the guitar without his generosity.

In late 1987, we started going to folk nights at The Lion Pub in Moorfields, Liverpool, each month, where we would sing and play folk songs as part of the line-up. I stopped going in 1989 for reasons I now forget, but he continued to be involved in the local folk scene, attending various folk nights up until the late 2000s.

By 2019, his feet had become very numb due to diabetic neuropathy, which made it difficult for him to walk long distances. When I next saw him in 2022, after the Covid lockdowns, he was using a walking stick and walking very slowly. We didn’t meet much due to that and mainly talked to each other on the phone.

I will always remember fondly his flat, which had a cosy ambiance, especially on winter nights, with the dim glow of the low-wattage light bulb casting shadows in the corners of the living room. For some reason, I associated the ambiance of his flat with what I imagined to have been the atmosphere of the various apartments that folk musicians in Greenwich Village in the early 1960s lived in.

He was a remarkable person whose kindness and generous nature, I’m sure, left a mark on everyone he met, as it did on me. His friendship for 42 years has given me lasting memories that I will forever cherish. He once said to me in the summer of 1983 that he had a feeling he would know me for a very long time, and that feeling turned out to be true.

May he rest in peace, knowing he was deeply loved and will always be remembered.

A Reappraisal of The Penguin Book of Contemporary British Poetry 42 Years On

Blake Morrison and Andrew Motion’s The Penguin Book of Contemporary British Poetry, published in 1982, sparked controversy due to its perceived exclusions and attempts to redefine poetic styles. In their Introduction, Morrison and Motion claimed a lineage from High Modernism for the largely descriptive poetry in the anthology, which was met with scepticism in some quarters. This article aims to revisit their claims and explore the anthology’s impact, questioning its categorisations, and also Morrison and Motion’s assertions regarding poetic innovation, narrative preferences and visual perception, and also to reassess the anthology’s influence and its lingering effects on the poetic landscape.

As mentioned, when the anthology appeared, it caused controversy. Most of this was because of the anthology’s exclusion of a significant number of women and ethnic poets. While this is no doubt true, what interests me more is Morrison and Motion’s claim that the largely descriptive poetry contained in the anthology is, in some sense, a continuation of the experiments of High Modernism. It is this attempt by Morrison and Motion to “rebrand” the anthology’s descriptive poetry as non-descriptive, in order to suggest that the descriptive aspects of the poetry are merely apparent rather than actual, that I will deal with here.

In their Introduction, Morrison and Motion assert that the poets showcased in this volume demonstrate ‘greater imaginative freedom and linguistic daring than the previous poetic generation’. However, it is unclear to whom they are referring as the ‘previous poetic generation’. Are they alluding to the Movement poets, the Group, the British confessional poets (such as Hughes and Plath), or a combination of these? It seems unlikely that they mean the Movement, as Morrison and Motion state that, ‘the new spirit in British poetry began to make itself felt in Northern Ireland during the late 1960s and early 70s’, undoubtedly referring to the Belfast cell of the Group, overseen by Philip Hobsbaum at Queen’s University.

We can confidently assert this because several attendees of this group are featured in this anthology: Seamus Heaney, Derek Mahon and Michael Longley. Philip Hobsbaum, the mentor of these three poets, was critical of Eliot, Pound and Modernism in general. Additionally, Heaney emphasised truthfulness and clarity in poetic expression. Therefore, it is curious that Morrison and Motion describe the majority of poets in the anthology as exhibiting ‘a literary self-consciousness reminiscent of the modernists’.

However, it is not evident from the majority of poems in this volume that this is actually the case. It would be inaccurate to credit much of the poetry in the anthology as particularly exemplifying a literary self-consciousness (or a postmodernist playfulness, for that matter). In any case, the claimed innovativeness is undermined by Morrison and Motion when they qualify it by stating of the poets: ‘this does not imply that their work is frivolous or amoral’. With this caveat, we see an echo of the liberal humanist view of poetry as needing to possess “worth” or “value”.

The poets in this anthology are lauded by Morrison and Motion for ‘making the familiar strange again’. However, it shouldn’t go unnoticed that the practice of defamiliarisation relies on vision, aiming to refresh our perception of the world and focus our attention on its objects, making it essentially descriptive. Another aspect praised by Morrison and Motion is the outlook that ‘expresses itself, in some poets, in a preference for metaphor and poetic oddity over metonymy and plain speech; in others, it is evident in a renewed interest in narrative—that is, in describing the details and complexities of (often dramatic) incidents. [These poets are] not poets working in a confessional white heat but dramatists and storytellers’.

Several points should be noted about this passage. Firstly, the term ‘poetic oddity’ is left undefined by Morrison and Motion, who also fail to provide examples of it in this anthology, so I will consider it a red herring. Secondly, a preference for metaphor is hardly new; Ted Hughes heavily depended on it. Thirdly, metonymy is a legitimate poetic device and one of the few that is non-descriptive; however, Morrison and Motion also fail to cite instances of it in the anthology’s poetry. Fourthly, the use of narrative and plain speech in poetry to describe dramatic events is something that conservative writers such as Edward Thomas, Robert Frost and Philip Hobsbaum would advocate. As an explanation for this anthology’s poetic approach, this passage leaves much to be desired.

What is most telling about the anthology’s Introduction is its emphasis upon visual perception and the act of witnessing. Morrison and Motion point out that most of the poets have developed procedures ‘designed to emphasise the gap between themselves and their subjects’; and that these poets are ‘not inhabitants of their own lives so much as intrigued observers, not victims but onlookers’. The poet who most embodies this in the anthology is Craig Raine, whose “Martian” poetry typifies the poetic outlook of the anthology’s Introduction with regard to its championing of visual perception, simile and defamiliarisation.

Morrison and Motion apologise for Martian poetry by claiming that far from its being the cold, arid, visually-based entity that it is usually taken for, it is in actuality imbued with emotion: ‘It would be wrong to think that the Martians’ ingenuity prevents them from expressing emotion: their way of looking is also a way of feeling’. However, like most of the assertions made by Morrison and Motion in this Introduction, it is not instanced by textual examples or any other evidence—it is to be taken on faith.

After 42 years, the influence of this anthology’s aesthetic still permeates contemporary mainstream poetry. The pervasive belief that reality exists independently of perception and that poetry’s primary role is to describe material phenomena has led to critiques of poems solely on these grounds. As a result, much of today’s celebrated poetry conforms to this critical perspective.

Anny Ballardini RIP

I just heard that Anny Ballardini died a few years ago. I hadn't been in contact with her since around 2013. She was a great supporter of the Argotist, and always defended it. I first came in contact with her in the mid-2000s when she published some of my poems on her website, Fieralingue. She also had a blog called Narcissus Works. Here is a poem I found that is a eulogy to her:

https://franzmagazine.com/2021/01/11/anny-ballardini-your-last-translation/

Rest in peace, Anny.

Kent Johnson RIP

I found out recently that poet and translator Kent Johnson had died. I was last in contact with him last month, and though he was ill due to cancer, he seemed in good spirits. I found out he had died when I next visited his Facebook. His family reported it there.

Kent was a loyal supporter of The Argotist Online, and was always helpful in putting me in contact with poets and academics who he thought would be interested in publishing poems or articles there.

I interviewed him in 2009, and he mentioned to me recently, that he thought it was his best interview:

https://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20221018122326/http://www.argotistonline.co.uk/Johnson%20interview.htm

And here is an appraisal of his El Misterio Nadal: A Lost and Rescued Book by "Roberto Bolaño" by Richard Blevins, which I published last month at Kent's request:

https://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20221018121955/http://www.argotistonline.co.uk/Blevins%20Essay.htm

Rest in peace, Kent.

"Argotist" Now in the Lexicon

Good to see that the name of The Argotist Online ("argotist") has now become part of the lexicon. It is a portmanteau word, created by the editor of the The Argotist Magazine, Nick Watson, in 1996. He said he had combined the word "argot" with the "ist" from the title of the 1914-1919 literary magazine The Egoist, which Ezra Pound was involved with. I don't recall it as a word existing before then. 

Lawrence Upton RIP

A few days ago, I was saddened to hear that the poet and director of Writers Forum, Lawrence Upton, had died on the 16th February 2020. For about a year early in the last decade, I corresponded with him via email, discussing many things relating to the UK avantgarde poetry scene, and also about his association with the poet and founder of Writers Forum, Bob Cobbing, with whom he collaborated on a number of projects.

Around the time of our email correspondence, I published his Commentaries on Bob Cobbing as an ebook with Argotist Ebooks. I also published a poetic work of his, Memory Fictions.

He said he wanted to also write an article for The Argotist Online about a (then) fracas concerning Writers Forum, in which he felt that certain people involved with Writers Forum were attempting to remove him as its director. He’d written about this on Writers Forum’s blog but felt that a formal and detailed article by him concerning the situation would better advertise the unfairness of his treatment. And that as The Argotist Online reached a wider readership than Writers Forum’s blog did, it would be the best place for his case to be heard.

I said that I’d be interested to read anything he wrote, and would likely publish it once the aforementioned ebooks had been published. Unfortunately, after they had been published he changed his mind about writing the article. I think by then he might have had a rapprochement with the various parties involved.

May he rest in peace.

The Monopolisation of Avant-garde Poetry

Here is an article by Tim Allen called ‘The Kiss of Life? The Kiss of Death? Some Thoughts on Linguistically Innovative Poetry and the Academy’:

https://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20221018121953/http://www.argotistonline.co.uk/Allen%20essay.htm

Tim wrote it in connection to a feature at The Argotist Online concerning the relationship between academia and avant-garde poetry. The feature is several years old, and was an attempt to get a discussion going about what appears to be an increasing tendency within the English departments of some academic institutions in the US and the UK to monopolise the practice, discourse, dissemination and publication of avant-garde poetry, thus creating a sort of “gold standard” by which avant-garde poetry is to be measured, validated and approved as being “worthy” of academic interest.

I thought the best way to start this discussion was to do a feature about it for The Argotist Online, consisting of articles by US and UK academics responding to an article by Jake Berry that was critical of academic encroachment into the sphere of avant-garde poetry. The feature can be found here:

https://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20220609132909/http://www.argotistonline.co.uk/The%20Academisation%20of%20Avant-Garde%20Poetry.htm

My original hope for the feature was to get responses to Berry’s article from academics closely involved in this monopolisation process. To that end, I approached many academics, both in the US and the UK, who were involved, to a greater of lesser extent, in this process. Few replied to me, and the majority of those that did, refused to take part in the feature. One or two did initially agree to take part but later changed their minds, for such reasons as having lack of time or having more pressing deadlines for other projects to meet. Consequently, without the involvement of these academics in the feature, the feature was ignored, and failed to garner any online interest, despite being viewed thousands of times within the first few hours of it being online.

Recently, Tim and I were discussing these issues via email, and I suggested to him that he formulate his opinions on the subject as an article, so that they could be accumulated in one place and read by others. He readily agreed, and consequently wrote the article mentioned above. 

My thanks to him for taking the time to write it.

Michelle Greenblatt RIP

Just heard that Michelle Greenblatt, a poet and editor friend, died last Monday. She was only in her early thirties. I hadn’t had contact with her for some months, and assumed that this was due to her fibromyalgia, which she suffered from terribly. I’m very shocked and saddened. My thoughts are with her husband and family. Rest in peace, Heavenly. 

Ann Bogle Apologises to Me—Sort of

Ann Bogle emailed me recently to apologise for her part in a public dispute we had with each other last year. For those interested, here are links to my blog posts where the dispute is explained:

Response to Ann Bogle:

http://jeffrey-side.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/response-to-ann-bogle.html

Second Response to Ann Bogle:

http://jeffrey-side.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/second-response-to-ann-bogle_3143.html

Third Response to Ann Bogle:

http://jeffrey-side.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/third-response-to-ann-bogle.html

In her email of apology Ann said:

“I apologize to you for an event that led to other events in August last year. I hope you will accept my apology, in particular for bringing up Bobbi Lurie's email correspondence with you in the OtherStream thread. It was not appropriate to bring it up there or to air it. It was in a flaming thread that you initiated because I had persisted in adding comments about Prosetics (my coinage) in poetry contexts, most particularly, in The Argotist Group.

Country Without a Name will become a book this year to be published by Veery Imprints. Acknowledgement of Argotist Ebooks as its first publisher will be included in its pages. I appreciate your steadiness in working as an e-publisher and your own poetry, when I can find it, and I wish I could find more of it. We were indeed allies and I hope you will view it that way once again.”

In response to this, I replied:

“Thanks for your apology. I can only accept it, though, if you are willing to make it a public apology. I will then accept it publically.”

Ann replied:

“I will post my apology, first, along with this note, mine, second, in response to yours of today, July 5, 2013, at Ana Verse as a Page (rather than as a blog entry) called “My Apology to Jeffrey Side” -- unless you have had thought of de-posting the several blog posts that critique me and Bobbi Lurie. Then our posts will not be permanently available on the Internet, as per Bobbi's request. Perhaps you plan and prefer to leave your critiques of us posted as an explanation of part of history.

In keeping with the artistic design of Ana Verse, the related entry I wish could remain at Ana Verse is “American Candid” -- that I view as a spontaneously-written collaborative play and that I de-posted at the request of Bobbi Lurie, who has asked both you and me not to use her name publicly in any connection with the word “psychotic,” for reasons she had stated in a comment she at first allowed to be posted at Ana Verse following my single-entry response to you and that she later asked me to de-post because her name appears there in connection with the word “psychotic” -- as do these THREE or FOUR emails.

Please let me know your wishes.”

She then posted her apology at her blog, notifying me thus:

“Jeff, there I posted my email to you verbatim:

http://annbogle.blogspot.com/p/my-apology-to-jeffrey-side.html”

I replied:

“I am satisfied with your posting your apology email at Ana Verse but please amend the sentence:

‘I hope you will accept my apology, in particular for bringing up Bobbi Lurie's email correspondence with you in the OtherStream thread.’

to:

‘I hope you will accept my apology, in particular for bringing up Bobbi Lurie's email correspondence with you in the OtherStream thread, and misrepresenting what you said about her in relation to the word “psychotic.’

And also amend the sentence:

‘It was in a flaming thread that you initiated because I had persisted in adding comments about Prosetics (my coinage) in poetry contexts, most particularly, in The Argotist Group.’

to:

‘It was in a thread that you initiated because I had persisted in adding comments about Prosetics (my coinage) in poetry contexts, most particularly, in The Argotist Group.’

Also please remove my email address from the header of your apology email.

Once you have made these amendments (and not reposted “American Candid”) I will post your apology at my blog, with a note saying I accept it. I will also remove the several blog posts that critique you and Bobbi Lurie.”

She replied:

“I'll amend the Apology I posted without the word “flaming” in it as a compromise; otherwise, STET, no mention of the word “psychotic.”

STET, for those who don’t know, means: “let it stand”, and is used as an instruction on a printed proof to indicate that a correction or alteration should be ignored. So here, Ann has agreed to remove the word “flaming” from one sentence, but not to amend the crucial sentence:

"I hope you will accept my apology, in particular for bringing up Bobbi Lurie's email correspondence with you in the OtherStream thread."

to:

“I hope you will accept my apology, in particular for bringing up Bobbi Lurie's email correspondence with you in the OtherStream thread, and misrepresenting what you said about her in relation to the word “psychotic.”

I replied to Ann:

“I can’t accept your apology without your mentioning in it the reason why I was in dispute with you in the first place, namely that you said that I had called Bobbi “psychotic”, when in fact I only said her later emails to me were. It is perfectly possible for someone’s writing style to be “psychotic” when they themselves are not. I made this clear to you at the time.

Without your apology being amended in this way, I can’t accept it, nor can I remove my blog posts regarding the issue. For me to accept the apology as it stands, would mean I would have to leave my blog posts in situ in order to contextualise your apology, which you probably wouldn’t like.”

Ann, however, was adamant that no further compromise on her part should be made, replying:

“Jeff, it's okay to me if you do not accept correct apology, but it's a shame in terms of peace and friendship.”

Her apology (albeit without the inclusion of the word “flaming”) can be found at her blog here:

http://annbogle.blogspot.co.uk/p/my-apology-to-jeffrey-side.html

In this apology, she also links to another part of her blog where she has reproduced fully the thread from the Otherstream Facebook group that initiated my dispute with her. That she should do this after both Bobbi and myself requested she not do so, demonstrates a lack of consideration, especially towards Bobbi whom, as far as I can tell, Ann has no grievance with. Incidentally, as far as I know, no one who has taken part in the thread has given her permission to publish their private comments in it. This probably constitutes an infringement by Ann of Facebook’s privacy policy, which she might or might not be aware of.

Given this, and her apology being incomplete, and possibly insincere, I am in no reasonable position to accept it as an apology.

Nothing New under the Sun

Here is an article written by Kenny Goldsmith praising Richard Prince who has made a facsimile copy of The Catcher in the Rye, inserting his own name in place of J. D. Salinger’s.

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2012/04/richard-princes-latest-act-of-appropriation-the-catcher-in-the-rye/

Goldsmith writes:

“A few months ago, a friend pulled off her bookshelf a new appropriation work by Richard Prince, one so radical and so daring, that I almost couldn’t believe it was by the same artist. The premise of the book was achingly simple: a reproduction of the first edition of The Catcher In The Rye, identical in every way except the author’s name was swapped from J. D. Salinger to Richard Prince. The production value of the book was astonishingly high, a perfect facsimile of the original, right down to the thick, creamy paper stock and classic typeface.”

It is peculiar how Goldsmith forgets to mention his own book Day (another work of “unoriginality”) being similarly appropriated (though in a far more ironic and conceptual manner) by Kent Johnson, a few years ago, who, I think, might have been the first person to do this sort of thing with a published book.

It appears nothing is original in conceptual art anymore, even when it’s trying to be unoriginal.