make poetry movies now

Apologies for those of you who already know about this. Xtranormal's free Text-to-Movie site was drawn to my attention by this post on Momus's website. The tagline for the product reads If you can type, you can make movies, and that seems to be an accurate description.

There are sets, actors and sounds available, and I believe an element of control over camera angles. You drag and drop the available animations, provide the text for them to speak, choose voices, and the software automatically provides the lip-sync. You can start your search here, although there are a few examples in the comments on Momus's blog.

Although I haven't so far seen any poets using the software I think there's a lot of scope there. The short films I have seen are especially good at awkward lacunae, offensive statements delivered with the same deadpan affect as quotidia, and flat-out nonsense, which can all be used productively by poets. I'd be all over it myself, but the site suggests it's only available for Windows at present, and as I have a Mac that doesn't run Windows I can't really use it.

For once I'm jealous of those of you with Windows, and that doesn't happen much.

experiment

Yesterday a number of recent poetry acquisitions arrived in the mail. First was the launch issue of the new Journal of British and Irish Innovative Poetry in what can only be described as discreet packaging. Almost any neutral observer would have imagined there was hardcore pornography inside. The other package was a bundle of the first three books from Knives, forks and spoons press - Earthworks by Alec Newman, Little Machines by Simon Rennie and London§tone by Alex Davies. The intention is to write about both the journal and the booklets at some point, though whether this will be realised is another question.

One of the quotes on the rear of Simon Rennie's Little Machines appeared immediately questionable. Michael Symmons Roberts writes that Simon Rennie's poems are 'full of assurance, skill and wit. His formal range demonstrates a willingness to experiment, but never for its own sake. At their best, these are poems of beauty and tenderness, carried by a distinctive new voice.' There are two questions this prompts for me. First, what's wrong with experiment for its own sake? Second, how in the hell are you supposed to distinguish between experiment for its own sake and any other sort of experiment? Presumably that would be purposeful experiment. But this prompts a third question of what 'experiment for its own sake' might be.

Let me be clear before I start that this is not intended as a reflection on Simon Rennie, on Alec Newman or on Knives, forks and spoons. My remarks are restricted to the quoted comment of Michael Symmons Roberts.

'Experiment for its own sake' might be a number of things. Even before I start to look at anything else I have to establish where the experiment might take place. Most obviously it might be in the presentational properties of the poem. This is extremely broad, it not only incorporates simple things like the shape of the poem on the page (which also relate to formal properties), but to visual poetry, sound poetry, poetry in translation, poems performed at a reading, and a range of other poems that have either been written in an 'unconventional' form or which have been altered from their 'original' iteration. It will also incorporate questions of the medium used to convey the poem, the font, size, colour, and so on.

Experiment might also take place in the formal properties of the poem. What rules of prosody are or are not applied. Whether the writer chooses to apply other limitations to their writing not present in traditional prosody, either created by them or borrowed from another source.

Experiment might be in the language used, in the broadest sense. Including the actual language(s) used, specialised and technical vocabularies, specific limitations on grammar and syntax, use of non-alphanumeric symbols, whether words used are easily understood, neologisms, anachronistic usages, colloquialisms, etc.

These are just the three most obvious areas where experiment might take place though far from the only ones. I don't propose to methodically explore every possibility, it's not the purpose of this essay to identify every form of experiment in poetry, just to demonstrate how problematic (and I would argue ideologically motivated) the original contention is.

To simplify matters let's assume that experiment means to write in a way that deviates from established norms in a significant and obvious way. How do we then judge whether a particular experiment is 'for its own sake' or purposeful? Presumably it's not possible to look at whether the poem 'works' in the general consensus. This route would surely lead us to presume that every 'successful' experiment is purposeful, and every 'unsucessful' experiment is for its own sake. Can we then look at whether the poem could have been written any other way? I don't think we can, in most cases there will be a huge range of alternative options. At best we might be able to look at notebooks and perhaps even interrogate the poet (assuming their honesty and co-operation) to determine what other options were considered. But this tends to presuppose that the experiment is purposeful, or at least that there is reasoning behind it, which is close to being the same thing.

The very way that 'experiment... for its own sake' is identified in the comment implies that Michael Symmons Roberts regards it as a negative quality. It's probably apparent that I would dispute this. I think that experiment for its own sake is desireable and often necessary. I believe that the comment is intended both as a positive endorsement of Simon Rennie, and as a way of contrasting his (acceptable) poetics with other poetics which foreground experiment 'for its own sake', presumably poetry that might describe itself as experimental (or linguistically innovative, post avant, formally innovative etc.) which by extension is less acceptable.

There's certainly more to be said about this, and I may return to the subject.

look dark reflect light yellow black

A visual poem created in Paint using a conventional mouse. Frankly it's much too derivative of Robert Grenier as it stands, but I want to see if I can start in this territory and diverge from it.

This piece is called look dark reflect light yellow black although it also features the words office block cloud.

There were four or five attempts prior to this. I set myself the limitation of not erasing lines that went wrong but accommodating them into the piece, and recovering my position where possible by repositioning the mouse while still drawing the line, hence a few knots.

cloud - visual poem

This is the previously untitled visual poem referred to yesterday now known as cloud.

low sun - new poetry - probably part of manchester

I'm not certain yet but this is probably a small fragment of what will be a longer later section of the ongoing sequence manchester. It will almost certainly change between now and whenever I reach the point where this part, presently entitled low sun, will fall.

Update: Around nine new lines starting 'pass joggers' added later in the day.

low sun

soft boxes from thick
rain. wet road and glass
frontage mutually reflect.
evidence of harm apparently
irrelevant to government drug
policy. writing online
can lead to prolepsis*. paramedics
treat driver in car
while police redirect traffic.
written instructions in margin.
asked for passport as identification
to register with gp surgery.
not so much rootless as having
no affiliation with any
particular place. bought eight
figs. pass joggers
cyclists people fishing.
abstract forms still carnal.
visual and sound poetry
even more than text
a project of reification
translation. written list in
notebook of what sounds
recorded to save work
later.

*via [nick currie] momus's clickopera blog discussing his reasons for giving up blogging.

bubbl - visual poem

More visual poetry. And this time it only took 20 attempts to get right after an initial sketch.


This piece is called bubbl.


There's more to come. In particular a currently untitled piece on the same theme as this and yesterday's flm which is drying. Because I poured ink.


Not sure what the theme actually is, although I had a particular intention in mind for this particular piece, but the pieces seem to be around a common form.

should brown cut off his johnson?

Wow. AN Wilson's made a right tool of himself over at the Daily Mail. So much so that even their normally bovine and reactionary comments posts contain a large proportion of people saying that he's talking bollocks.

Wilson inadvisadly commented on the Nutt-sack controversy, in which Professor David Nutt was forced to resign as senior drugs adviser by Alan Johnson after Nutt wrote a paper with perfectly uncontroversial comments about the artificial separation of alcohol and tobacco from illegal drugs. Remarks by Johnson such as this from his letter to Nutt,

I cannot have public confusion between scientific advice and policy, and have therefore lost confidence in your ability to advise me as chair of the ACMD.

and in interviews come close to saying that evidence of harm is irrelevant to government policy.

Among the many gems in Wilson's piece is this instantiation of Godwin's law that Ben Goldacre was justifiably quick to draw attention to on his twitter feed,

The only difference between Hitler and previous governments was that he believed, with babyish credulity, in science as the only truth. He allowed scientists freedoms which a civilised government would have checked.

Complete with a large picture of Hitler for the slow children at the back. Apart from anything else, given the well-documented general credulity and fascination with pseudo-scientific cock of many in the Nazi hierarchy, this is simply untrue. Even if it were it is not a criticism of science or scientists but of human nature and especially of the compromised moral character of the Nazi regime.

My personal favourite remark of Wilson's however is this from earlier in the piece,

The trouble with a 'scientific' argument, of course, is that it is not made in the real world, but in a laboratory by an unimaginative academic relying solely on empirical facts.

Yes, damn those scientists and their empirical facts. If it weren't for them forcing their 'empirical' science on us I could have a candy tree growing in the garden and a pair of wings to fly to work.

Of course, Brown's Johnson is in absolutely no danger. An evidence-based approach to drugs policy however appears to have taken a beating.

accident beats intention

In which while making almost random marks on both side of a piece of A4 trying to come up with a design for a new piece of visual poetry I hit on something. But am unable to recreate it in 60 subsequent attempts and eventually decide to quit and just post the messy and small original.

That's not an exaggeration by the way. I tried doing it relaxed, not looking at the original, tracing the original, measuring the original, tracing an enlarged scan of the original, using my left hand, using a different brush, with my eyes closed, and using a different grip.

Anyway, it's called flm for what it's worth.

jeremy over, matt welton + lemur

The taxi driver asks where St Philip's church is. Which building. What's going on there tonight. Once again have arrived early as it turns out.

Among others, using a slideshow of text and a loop station Matt Welton performs Dr Suss from his new book We needed coffee but we'd got ourselves convinced that the later we left it the better it would taste, and, as the country grew flatter and the roads became quiet and dusk began to colour the sky, you could guess from the way we retuned the radio and unfolded the map or commented on the view that the tang of determination had overtaken our thoughts, and when, fidgety and untalkative but almost home, we drew up outside the all-night restaurant, it felt like we might just stay in the car, listening to the engine and the gentle sound of the wind, available from Carcanet.

Something weird happens. St Philip's Church in Salford doesn't look like any other building nearby. From their website it's Greek style, designed by Sir Robert Smirke in 1825. The view from Chapel Street is straight on to the 'bow-fronted porch with ionic colonnade and balustraded parapet and bell tower above.' Alternately as Tom Jenks points out there's a kind of Silent Running vibe to the Geoffrey Manton building at MMU, only perhaps more deserted even with people in it. We are the last people drifting in this forgotten ship.

But there are more people. More people at a poetry reading than at a gig. At 6.30 pm or thereabouts around 50-60 people go into a lecture theatre to hear two poets read. This is the Geoffrey Manton building. Between 7.30 and 8pm at St Philip's pretty much everyone arrives for the latest in the Salford Concerts Series 09. Including the musicians (4), the church staff and volunteers (4 I think), the organisers (2), people working on the toilets (2), and the audience we only total 20.

Lemur are Lene Granger - cello and Hild Sofie Tafjord - horn, both of Spunk, and Bjornar Habbestad - flute and Michael Francis Duch - double bass. They play acoustically tonight in a wonderful sounding space, solo sets in the first half then after a short break as an ensemble - although the cello often seems to take the lead or at least be more sonically evident.

Jeremy Over doesn't wholly convince me. He reads first. Whether I'm simply not in the mood I don't know but the poems feel relatively conventional with bits of novelty bolted on. It's as though he's straining towards a kind of watered-down linguistically innovative practice but something prevents it being more than a gesture. I'm probably being unjust, others will have another view and may have enjoyed it more.

I decide not to hail a cab on the street although it's already half past seven. Instead I walk to Whitworth Street to catch one there. Lemur don't start playing until around 8pm or later.

Sitting and waiting for the gig to start and during the break I write what must be around three new poems for my MA manchester sequence in one block. Suddenly I'm around halfway through it and it's gone off in a whole new direction.

The solo sections are fascinating, playing with texture, sound, the limits of the instruments. There is a dialogue through the evening for me about music and non-music, intention and accident, sound and non-sound, and how possible it is for an instrument not to be musical. Separately the musicians play at the limits of their instruments, and use unconventional structures. They make sounds that are not conventionally musical, and noises that sound like they come from another source altogether. So at times the horn sounds like electronic noise, the flute - or rather the mouthpiece - is used as a vehicle for breath, mouth sounds and fingering, while notes are mostly held off. Together, even while doing relatively unmusical things the cumulative effect is like music. There is almost melody, almost harmony.

Matt performs from memory - except for Dr Suss which is long and complicated and involves getting the loops right. Even from memory when the poem is on shuffled cards - this is I must say that at first it was difficult work - where he simply glances at each card to see which line it is. There are thirty-six lines. I bought my copy of We needed coffee but we'd got ourselves convinced that the later we left it the better it would taste, and, as the country grew flatter and the roads became quiet and dusk began to colour the sky, you could guess from the way we retuned the radio and unfolded the map or commented on the view that the tang of determination had overtaken our thoughts, and when, fidgety and untalkative but almost home, we drew up outside the all-night restaurant, it felt like we might just stay in the car, listening to the engine and the gentle sound of the wind in Cardiff at the weekend. I could have waited.

This morning I didn't know either of these events were on. The usual channels had broken down as regards the Salford Concerts Lemur gig and the Jeremy Over/Matt Welton reading I'd plain forgotten about until I was texted. More things tomorrow and next week. Made and ate two smallish smoked salmon sandwiches in work because there was no way I'd have time to eat at home before I left.

As the Lemur ensemble piece evolved it became stranger and more about the interplay of textures and blurring of sonic boundaries between the instruments. One extended another until they were sometimes indistinguishable. The horn could be the double bass while the flute and cello were hard to prise apart. Or the cello and horn matched one another. The flute imitated a voice. There were slow steady rhythms. There were staccato bursts of sound. There were almost random rain clusters of notes. Creaking. Drones. Screams. Spaces and silence. Noise and crescendo.

And then I walked home. But wait, there's more. Didn't give much idea of Matt's performance or a bunch of other stuff. Adrian Slatcher gives an alternate but not vastly different reading here. The lecture theatre's a constrained space not suitable for performance. As a reader/performer I'd look at it and think 'how can I disrupt this?'

Adrian, I'll see your three Matts and raise you Matt Wand organiser of the Lemur gig.

Lemur used the acoustics of the church - as Greek inside as out - brilliantly. As well as building to tremendous volume they were able to use the tiniest, quietest gestures. Surprisingly, although essentially serving the same function of enabling didactic exposition of arcane information albeit with added ceremonial as the lecture theatre the church proved a more appropriate venue for performance. I suppose perhaps in part because some of the order intended to be impressed on the audience there would be encoded in the hymns and ceremonies enacted there as well as in the architecture, whereas the lecture theatre has to impose discipline on the unwilling through brute management of space. Like much contemporary public space it subtly bullies you into conducting yourself as the designer would like.

Matt's We needed coffee but we'd got ourselves convinced that the later we left it the better it would taste, and, as the country grew flatter and the roads became quiet and dusk began to colour the sky, you could guess from the way we retuned the radio and unfolded the map or commented on the view that the tang of determination had overtaken our thoughts, and when, fidgety and untalkative but almost home, we drew up outside the all-night restaurant, it felt like we might just stay in the car, listening to the engine and the gentle sound of the wind is a compelling, if perhaps more patchwork book than The Book of Matthew, although it shares characteristic strategies with the first collection. His performance given the constraints of the space was excellent. He was confident as ever and managed to hold your attention even through what might be seen as more difficult poems.

It's around 45 minutes on foot from St Philips to where I live and frankly a bit of a boring walk. But somehow I've managed to break down the route so my mind's always occupied elsewhere and the tedium falls off.

Would have been nice to hang around after the reading at MMU. Still.

Enough.

aids denial film transcript

Some of you may be aware of House of Numbers, a documentary purporting to raise questions about HIV/AIDS funding. One of The Spectator's writers has been helping to promote the film apparently on the grounds of generating discussion. Now while generating discussion sounds innocuous enough it's also an obfuscatory tactic used by blustering bullshitters with no real evidence on their side.

By all accounts House of Numbers is a highly skewed and selective piece of denialism, which attempts to show that HIV does not cause AIDS, that HIV may not even exist, and that people will get better if they stop taking anti-retrovirals. These pernicious, unfounded myths may well have contributed to large numbers of deaths, especially in South Africa.

Ben Goldacre's Bad Science blog recently linked to a website which is in the process of posting a full transcript of the film with commentary on particular points, and identifying which of the talking heads are active in AIDS denialism. I would advise you to take a look at the transcript, and then head over to Bad Science to read more about HIV/AIDS there and on some of blogs linked there. Some information on HIV and AIDS can also be found at Wikipedia in semi-protected articles. Semi-protected because I suspect otherwise they'd be subject to vandalism by the crazies I suspect will arrive to comment shortly.

array - october's sound poetry cd-r

Once again made it with only a whisker to spare. October's sound poetry CD-R is out now for only £3.

It's called array and features 12 tracks. They explore simple facets of vocal sounds from plosives to sibilants by way of breaths, scream, whispering and laughter. Some tracks are tightly scripted while others are wholly improvised.

Other than tweaking the volume up and cutting sections off the beginning or end of certain tracks there is only one major edit in production. The various 'i' tracks were a single long track consisting of two elements. The first was a drone, made using a loop pedal and then reversed. The second was a vocal track played twice over the reversed drone. The whole track was then split into sections.

Seven microphones of varying quality were used at all times.

The tracklisting is:

1 i1

2 plateau

3 i2

4 brooks bar

5 junction

6 i3

7 where

8 i4

9 grammar

10 i5

11 transform

12 i6

The CD lasts just over 33 minutes.

manchester - the rest of pomona strand - poem

Earlier in the month I published part of a section of manchester, the sequence I'm writing for my MA dissertation equivalent, called pomona strand. Here's the rest of that section, recently completed. I'm between a third and a half of the way through the sequence.

The other parts featured on santiago's dead wasp can be found in order of earliest to most recent and are: variable, float, reflect, and pomona strand (first section). Together with what's below they represent between a third and a half (again) of what's been completed so far.

pomona strand - continued

syringe floating in canal.
cyclist in dark glasses on
path sun in his eyes.
shaky photo of heron
taking off from water. listening
to some films on headphones
it's obvious the dialogue was recorded in
a studio. illuminated white
neon outline of a cross
on church tower in the dark.
looking through recent folders
notice compositional similarities
in a lot of photos. perhaps
due to the lens's limitations.

wooden jacob's ladder
stiles stone step
stiles (cut up gravestones
in places). stream dug
directed covered feeds
cattle drinking trough.
parts of wharf collapsed and
overgrown. railway
arches filled with rubble
and tyres. part of tree
polished smooth by sheep
scratching. generations of brickwork
colour and quality of build.
gravel. rotting matter
in ship canal produces
methane bubbles sometimes so
numerous it looks like rain
on the water. no one can be sure
how many super-injunctions
have been issued since they prevent
reporting even the fact
that there is an injunction. combined
with libel tourism where wealthy
individuals can suppress material
not published or available in britain
british courts are damaging
free speech and legitimate
criticism. functional structures
like dutch barns silage
clamps milking sheds.
structures history engineering
ownership artifice less visible
under grass and trees. buddliea
growing from walls roofs
chimneys. falcon nest in
city centre. slug
twentieth floor. unused
elevated former railway
tracks grown over.

the manchester blog awards 2009

As anticipated it was an easy evening for me since I didn't expect to win and indeed didn't win. That said the whole affair was a bit subdued in some curious sort of way.

To begin at the beginning, as usual my crew, my entourage and my posse let me down again, but then they pull this kind of shit on an almost weekly basis. They used the fairly thin excuses that they were working, in another country, didn't know about the event, or didn't care. I'd knock them off the christmas list if I hadn't already done the shopping online. I would have been there all on my own if it hadn't been for the very charming guys Gethin and (I think) Steve Pete (sorry if I got that wrong) from Young. They did the brand identity and online for the Blog Awards. They're also really nice, they came to sit at my table because the place was full. They were very supportive despite not knowing me, having never read the blog, having no vested interest in any of the categories, and me being my usual surly rude self. They've also done the Cube interior rebrand, and some work on Rainy City Stories which I think goes live soon, among other projects, so you've almost certainly seen their work around.

Band on The Wall looks really good now. The last time I was in there before this it felt like you were going to stick to everything or catch something off any given surface, or that the balcony might collapse any minute. I'm pleased to say the venue looks and feels great, and has some decently sized and relatively civilised toilets. The table I'd chosen was unfortunately hidden behind several pillar so I could hardly see the stage, but that's my fault. Oh, the drinks prices were reasonable too, certainly a lot cheaper than some establishments that I won't name (hello Night & Day).

If I have a criticism of the event itself it's one out of the hands of the organisers, it's that many of the readers (and the person from Creative Tourist, whose name I didn't note down) were bloody woeful at using the microphones provided. There were two of them, they both worked fine, the sound was good, but somehow people managed to bollix it up. Generally by speaking quietly and/or at a distance from the microphone. It meant that for people at the back and on the balcony half the proceedings were inaudible. Unfortunately I only caught a fragment of what Richard Vivmeister Hirst of I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car read out - although to be fair to him he hadn't been told he could adjust one mic or use the other. Also hard to hear were the aforementioned person from Creative Tourist who announced Best Arts and Culture Blog and from whom barely a word was audible. She abandoned the short mic, but then stood back and to the side of the tall mic. Jenn Ashworth slipped into quiet mode from time to time too.

Points for being clear right to the back go to Maria (?) who hosted, Kate Feld of Manchizzle (and originator of it all) who did some co-hosting, and Dave Hartley and companions who gave probably the performance of the evening.

So the runners up were and winners were:

Best City and Neighbourhood Blog

Runner up - The Manchester Zedders

Winner - Lost In Manchester - which I really must add to the blogroll

Best Personal Blog

Runner up - Cynical Ben

Winner - My Shitty Twenties - the first of two, congratulations.

Best Arts and Culture Blog (I don't think a runner up was mentioned)

Winner - Run Paint Run Run

Amendment 21:40 ish - Evidently I didn't hear (see elsewhere). The runner up was The Manchester Hermit.

Best Writing on a Blog

Runner up - Jointly Dave Hartley's Weblog = I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car - sadly no mention for Big City, Little Girl, which I thought was also in contention.

Winner - of course, My Shitty Twenties - no surprise, but welcome anyway.

Best New Blog

Runner up - Songs From Under The Floorboards

Winner - Words & Fixtures

and overall Blog of the Year (no runner up)

Winner - Lost In Manchester - no arguments there - given the winners it was this or My Shitty Twenties

I had a good time, although I left early without saying goodbye to anyone, as usual. I come and go like a stiff English pacifist ninja. As I'm so fond of saying but never doing, normal service will be resumed shortly.

Update 10:25-ish

Okay, to finish properly what I started yesterday.

One of the striking things was how much more physically prepossessing all the shortlisted candidates, male and female, were than I expected. I hadn't exactly thought there'd be a bunch of hunched and scaly troglodytes, but even so. We geeks scrub up a lot better than you'd think.

I mentioned Dave Hartley's performance. He had assistants and visual aids in the reading of his story, which went down especially well. Playing the parts of Earth and Pluto he had a couple of friends in loving rendered papier-mache helmets depicting the two planets. Or planet and maybe-a-planet. Plus a smaller ball on a stick for the moon. All three actually managed to use the microphones and be heard. They had the best visual presence of the night and were about the most audible of the readers.

I really should stop banging on about that but hey, Kate, if you want me to give next year's hopefuls a tutorial on actually being heard I'll be happy to oblige. My Shitty Twenties, whose proper name I can't remember, read well and could be heard. It was a well judged piece and demonstrated the qualities that made her such a deserving winner. Richard Vivmeister Hirst writes very well, and it was a well chosen piece, but I could barely hear him. He may have been visually compelling in performance but as I was behind a pillar and haven't quite mastered my X-ray vision I couldn't see. I know Katherine Woodfine of Follow The Yellow Brick Road read but I really can't remember anything about it, hence my silence on the matter. Don't remember if she was good or bad, or what she read. I'm going to assume she was audible and interesting though.

I suppose I should have stayed later to meet people, but it's not much fun when you're out on your own and pretty much social-phobic. Congratulations to all the winners, runners up, and others, and well done to those who actually read. There may be another post later today, but tomorrow it's my birthday (40) and I'm off to Cardiff until Sunday, so no new posts until Monday at the earliest I think. See you.

lots and lots and lots of links

First thing tonight before I review the blog awards here's a bunch of links just added. There are more to come that I just couldn't be bothered with tonight. There's a whole range of different kinds of things here so I'll take them alphabetically with a couple of exceptions.

Jeffrey Side stirred me into expanding the blogroll in this way by getting in touch and suggesting a link exchange. I'm always happy to oblige as long as I think the site's worth it. He also edits The Argotist Online which has some amazing stuff, it'll take you weeks to go through it. Mention must also go to Young design for reasons I'll explain in my next post.

Cleaves journal I've previously mentioned. Go check it out, and if you feel you can contribute get in touch with Harry Godwin. I think it's potentially a really important project.

One of the shortlisted blogs tonight was Follow the Yellow Brick Road, which lost out in the Best Arts and Culture Blog category. A good read nonetheless.

Head Heritage is of course Julian Cope's online centre of operations. Index on Censorship should have been on the blogroll already. Learn Something Every Day is not wildly dissimilar in its graphic style to my own God is a Sloth, but more regularly updated - new god stuff coming soon, honest. The Young guys pointed me towards that one.

I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car was a joint runner up in my category, and I thought possibly the real contender against the winner which you all know by now, and which I'll mention in the next post. The other runner up in Best Writing on a Blog was Dave Hartley's Weblog. I haven't added it to the blogroll for reasons which elude me now, probably because it was a year long project now complete. But it's still there and I may add it to the list in a day or so.

Astonishingly I never added knives, forks and spoons press before, but consider it done now. It's a Facebook group. The previous Wordpress site was closed down between Richard pulling out and Alec taking over.

In fact I'll mention the winner in my category now, it was of course the fully deserving My Shitty Twenties, which also won Best Personal Blog. There is justice sometimes. Waiting in the wings for a long time to be added to my links is The Plashing Vole. Don't know why I never got round to it, maybe I'm not fond of the name. Private Eye's website has improved a lot recently from the last time I'd visited it, so it's now worth adding. I've mentioned The Shrieking Violet before, which also lost out in Best Arts and Culture Blog.

And finally, but not least, and making an impression this year with the Jeni Barnett affair, the BNP members list, and being part of the whole shitstorm around the Trafigura/Carter Ruck gagging affair, Wikileaks is an increasingly important resource.

And that's it for now. Coming up, the blog awards.

street cutlery 16

On the way home crossing the footbridge over the canal at Castlefield just behind the former Congregational Church this was in dirt just outside site fencing where there's some work going on - construction work and interior refits are always good for street cutlery. No camera again, and the light was starting to go a bit.

manchester blog awards + cleaves journal

For those of you who might be interested and have £4 (£3 concessions) to spare, a number of bloggers including me will read sections from our blogs (around 5 minutes each) during the Manchester Blog Awards at Band on the Wall this Wednesday 21 October. It kicks off at 7. It should be an easy night, someone else is certain to win in my category (Best Writing on a Blog - I'd say My Shitty Twenties is front runner), so I can chill out and enjoy the evening.

Another interesting poetry thing happening too. Harry Godwin has launched a new poetry publication broken into English regions (and some non-English outposts), called Cleaves. I was tipped off initially by Richard Barrett - the first editor for the North West. Today Openned have also published details of the project.

My only real question is why no wider UK? I'm sure that linguistically innovative, or other interesting non-mainstream work is being produced in Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland. From personal experience I can only speak about Wales where I'm pretty sure with the urban density and relative proximity to London and Bristol of the south, the universities, and organisations and centres like Academi (with Peter Finch's involvement) and Chapter that Cardiff, Newport and beyond must have some demand for linguistically innovative writing - possibly even some kind of a scene bubbling under the usual mainstream dreck. If you know anything about this please let me know, I try to get back to Cardiff fairly regularly and I'm interested in what's going on. I'm also happy to publicise anything that might be going on.

pomona strand - part of poem

I've already featured a few section from my ongoing sequence of poems for my MA final semester, which are currently under the collective if unimaginative title of manchester. This latest is one of possibly two sections that will be written and formatted slightly differently from the rest of the poem. It was written yesterday but has been heavily edited since then, and may change again.

pomona strand

you could ask here what
is a building?* docks a built
structure engineering in
stone and fully serviced
once. the boats also
utile fitted for basic living.
misinformation about vaccines on
radio phone-in re-posted in full. so
no accusation of selectivity. copied
after legal chill and crowdsourced
transcript available. bloggers social
networks (twitter etc.) ftmfw**.
nature within the national
park protected but not natural.
characteristic strips up hill-
sides remaining from open field
system superimposed with dry
stone walls and barns. rough
grazing (sheep) above.
grasses mosses low thick trees
bushes creepers a layer of soil. four
herons outside the railings above
the water. paving concrete tarmac
services under soil unseen
except how flat it is.
there are small commercial
plantations the forest of
bowland is isolated clumps
and strands of trees. first
romans then monasteries
deforested here. the settlements
are viking at least their names.
a ruling on the basis that
the word 'bogus' implied
deliberate dishonesty described
as 'legally erroneous'***.
stones were quarried roads
and tracks managed watercourses
bridged moved deepened or
otherwise utilised/interfered with.
in places regular shaped
holes in green access points
opened wires and pipes
removed. metal railings bent
back sometimes displaced by
tree growing through. and back
inland away from the edge areas
wet even marshy. around a
metre and a half above the canal.
had conflated meaning with
whether presented as fact or
fair comment too far in
favour of protecting reputation.

sections of lead removed
from roof of building others
bent or torn. dead cat floating
bloated rotting in canal fur
starting to come away. teenagers
with mini moto. a little
incoherent abuse. layer of
brick inside bridge’s arch.

web users publish details
of legal issue raised in parliament.
stripped rusted car close
to edge by ship canal.
on hill sssi**** and limestone pave-
ment iron age walls ashpit.

* courtesy jonathan meades on portsmouth dockyard
** for the motherfucking win
*** aka chiropractors pwned
**** site of special scientific interest

knives, forks + spoons press under new management

Finally it's possible to let you know that knives, forks and spoons press, established earlier this year by Richard Barrett is now under the management of Alec Newman.

It's an awful shame that Richard decided he wasn't able to continue with the project, he would certainly have made a good job of it, and was off too a flying start. But without that start Alec might not have been able to move as fast as he has.

All this information can be found on the facebook page for knives, forks and spoons, but here's what's coming up:

Later this month. That's this month, October are:

Earthworks - poetry by Alec Newman and illustrations by Stacey Dunkinson. Only £5 to you, squire.

Londonstone - long poem by Alex Davies. £3.50. Don't know about you but I've been waiting for this for ages.

Little Machines - poetry by Simon Rennie. £5

The first coup is Captured Yes - by Steven Waling. Price yet to be confirmed.

Excited yet? Well wait, there's more. Coming later this year are:

North - poetry by Matt Dalby, erm... that's me, with graphic interpretations of soundwaves by Stacey Dunkinson. I'm interested to see what they look like. Unless something's changed I understand the soundwaves are ones I provided from a series of field recordings.

More importantly, and the second, really big coup - a collection of poetry by Scott Thurston. Now if that doesn't put knives, forks and spoons on the map then nothing will.

There will also be a collection of poetry by Antony Rowland.

And a collection of art prints by Stacey Dunkinson - who's evidently been busy.

That's christmas sorted then. Now get across to the facebook group and join it to be kept abreast of developments.

street cutlery 15

Again no camera with me. This one was spotted near my work on the pavement on Elsinore Road above the outward bound platform of Trafford Bar tram stop. Collected Friday 9 October, but spotted first on Wednesday.

street cutlery 14

Remember this? The first of two new street cutlery entries. This one was found so long ago I can't remember where. I think on the road home. I didn't have my camera with me.

new! improved! conservative bible!

If you have any sense you'll never have read Conservapedia [Caution: Site contains toxic levels of Stupid]. It's the rightwing American wingnut reaction to Wikipedia.

Thanks to Pharyngula (via The Plashing Vole) for drawing attention to their Quixotic project to challenge that bastion of no-good-commie propaganda that is The Bible. Yes, that Bible. Apparently it's polluted with liberal bias, socialist language, and just downright unchristian ideas. In order to challenge this tide of political correctness Conservapedia has embarked on a project to translate the Bible into a more conservative-friendly idiom.

Personally I think this is brilliantly pointless. Certainly there are far more dangerously idiotic things they could do. Rumours that Conservapedia is currently negotiating with the Taliban 'because their policy on drugs, and their attitudes towards women and homosexuals are worthy of serious attention' have yet to be denied.*

* Because I just made them up. But go on, spread the rumour.

Correction 10 October 09: I may have given the impression that Conservapedia is a harmless and amusing joke. Having read entries on Evolution, Richard Dawkins, Homosexuality and Autism it's become obvious the site is full of distortions, innuendo, untruths and carefully phrased bigotry. I strongly recommend avoiding the hell out of it.

podcasts - 3. acrophobia

A little later than I intended, but here's podcast 3 - Acrophobia.

Powered by Podbean.com

All being well podcast 4 will include images.

the other room at oxjam

Not enough of The Other Room for you this year? Well there's more to come, and soon.

In just over two weeks, on Sunday 25 October a one-off event with Stuart Calton, James Davies and Tony Trehy - all highly recommended - takes place at Apotheca in the Northern Quarter.

It's part of the Oxjam Festival, so although admission is free a donation to Oxjam is suggested.

Apotheca is at 75-77 Thomas Street, M4 1FS.



Normal service will resume shortly: Podcast 3 on acrophobia will go up later this evening, and a couple of other posts by Sunday.

oh crap it's national poetry day

This man knows the score. Tony Trehy's blog is always worth reading. He's far bolder than I am at criticising where criticism is deserved.

Anyway, the first link above is to his post on National Poetry Day. Which deserves criticising. National Poetry Day has long been a pointless ghetto which only seems to emphasise the irrelevance of poetry to the broader culture. It's the marker of an unconfident mainstream heading toward extinction.

See also my recent podcast on the dullness of the mainstream and how creative impurity is a very good thing.

keep libel laws out of science

As you probably know the wealthy and the secretive have been flocking to Britain as libel tourists. A particularly objectionable aspect of what is a wholly indefensible practice are the attempts of chiropractors and others to stifle fair criticism of their unproven and sometimes dangerous activities.

This has been covered in the mainstream press, in Private Eye, and by many others. Sense About Science is campaigning to keep the libel laws out of science. The button below and over at the right will link you to their campaign, where you can find out more, sign the petition and support the campaign in other ways (buy the T-shirt).



When I have the chance I'll post links to some of the coverage of this issue.

the other room 11

I'm disappointed to say I'll miss tonight's Other Room reading. I have a session for my MA that I can't really skip.

But I would advise you to get down to The Old Abbey Inn, 61 Pencroft Way on Manchester Science Park, M15 6AY for a 7pm start. It's free entry, and the performers are Craig Dworkin and Michael Haslam.

lancaster abstract + surreal

There are places where art fails. Places so weird no artist could invent them. Cities are too often purely man-made. At best this achieves a kind of abstraction. Nature of course is never natural. It is surreal however. And more surreal the more natural it is. But artists can manage either of these modes with no difficulty. In some other places they struggle. In some other places they need a helping hand. Thus where engineering meets water.

So at the coast, along tidal rivers, in fenland humans engineer to protect themselves from water. To prevent its encroachment. Nature can serve us but we seek to proscribe the terms on which it does so. So far and no further. Elsewhere water is diverted or transported or used for transport. By artificial means, through artificial channels. In this case too we seek to contain it.

In all these places the means to control water is by engineering. In all these places people work and live in close proximity. There is a juxtaposition of the natural and the unnatural - you can decide which is which - the functional and the decorative, the utile actions of water and the unwanted actions of water, the human and the inanimate, the practical and the recreational, and so forth. And where there are people there is litter.

Don't drop litter. Don't be a litter lout. Bin it. Pick it up. Keep Britain Tidy. Take it home. The exhortations are similar and unchanging, as though we aspire to leave no archaeological traces. The newer exhortations of recycle and reuse take this self-erasure closer to its logical end. Remake and the earlier forms might never have existed. Our next step is to cease to create anything. Is this human evolution? A circle from ooze back to ooze.

In The Book of Dave Will Self gets it right with the Daveworks:

plastic fragments deposited in the sea by Dave at the MadeinChina. Worn by Inglanders as charms and talismans, periodically proscribed by the PCO

Our plastic trash, this magnificently engineered, functional, brightly coloured stuff is a sign of how advanced our culture is. The ability to make this waste is unlike anything seen before. It is supremely useful and supremely useless. Supremely quotidian and supremely weird.

So there are two forms of engineering. The permanent - or at least the fixed - the engineering that is meant to be there. Then there is the accidental, the unwanted, the circumstantial engineering - or engineered. They meet, and meet the water. The water meets the land.

The water does not meet the land. The land does not meet the water. They are indivisible. There are zones where they are indistinguishable, or where they become something else not quite either. There is ambiguity. This is especially the case in places subject to tides. What seems like solid land firmly above the reach of the water may simply be an outer dominion of the riverbed.

This ambiguity, this miscegenation of land and water, of utility and trash, of the engineered and the natural, the destructive and the creative gives rise to a different art. An art that no human could invent, only imitate. A collision of the abstract and the surreal.

ah...

Santiago is frankly astonished to find santiago's dead wasp shortlisted for Best Writing on a Blog in the Manchester Blog Awards 2009. The nomination certainly didn't originate here.

The shortlists in all categories are here. I suspect this is as far as santiago's dead wasp goes. Other than My Shitty Twenties I hadn't encountered any of the other blogs santiago is up against previously.

The others in the Best Writing on a Blog category are: My Shitty Twenties, Dave Hartley's Weblog - although it looks like activity is going to be shifted to another site shortly, I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car, and Big City, Little Girl. It's a strong lineup and pretty diverse. From primarily short fiction through primarily poetry to humour, personal blogs and more generalist (that'd be me then). I really couldn't pick a winner but I wouldn't bet against either My Shitty Twenties or I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car.

In other categories again I'm not all that familiar with the blogs. But I would like to echo Richard Barrett's championing of The Shrieking Violet.

Go have a look at the shortlist and discover some interesting new blogs. Normal service will resume shortly.

podcasts - 2. the impurity of poetry

Powered by Podbean.com

The second in my series of podcasts is a little over 13 minutes long. It examines how impurity is a good thing for poetry.

Most of the material is my own, but I do need to acknowledge some sources here:

The joke at the beginning is adapted from one by Allan Wolf at allanwolf.com, here.

John Hollander is quoted from the preface to the 1989 Columbia University Press edition of John Thompson's The Founding of English Metre.

Bob Cobbing is quoted from Lion, Lenin, Leonora, Lamb from the book Sockless in Sandals published by Cardiff's Second Aeon Publication in 1985. It's available online here.

Finally, Andrew Motion's The Sorcerer's Mirror was printed in the Guardian Review on Saturday 26 September 2009. It's available online here.

Podcast 3 coming shortly took less time to write than today's. It deals with the subject of acrophobia - the fear of heights.

zimzalla

The Other Room brings news of Tom Jenks' new project zimZalla which will 'intermittently publish avant items'. The first publication, Object 001 is Opposable Dumbs, a free e-book by Tina Darragh.

Just follow the link to the site and download the text from there. I haven't yet had a chance to read through the book because I've been busy today, but it looks very interesting.

Object 002 will be a paper and ink book of poetry to feature James Davies, Holly Pester and others to be confirmed. And at some point next year I believe Object 003 will be a CD of sound poetry by me. It is all new material recorded a couple of months ago and not previously made public elsewhere.