Archive for July, 2012

The Question That Dares Not Speak Its Name…

July 12, 2012

Well alright now…for better or for worse I’ve had days to traipse around a city (Brisbane), and have been doing some thinking (for better or for worse).  I’ve been getting downright depressed, mostly because I can never say what I mean, but if you’re any kind of writer you should be used to that.  In fact, that is one of the curses of writing, or trying to write.  “A picture is worth a thousand words” is not just a cute & clever saying: it’s the truth.  Words separate us from our meaning, but still we rage and wail away at getting to the “truth” of it all.  Rather than try to fight this head on I’ve decided to try a different tack: there are no answers, only solutions.

What I mean is that I’d like to start talking about things that have no final answer (at least not in my opinion), but are worth looking at and mulling over and considering and debating and fussing and pulling and punching and all the glorious rest.  The greatest problem facing humanity, beyond staying alive, is being human.  We’re a shyte species, but tangents right and left, so what are are going to do about it?

Warning: I’d like to address difficult subjects that will leave everyone unhappy and no one satisfied.  There are no winners, only losers, and that is the mark that we might be on the right path.  If I do this correctly, this will be brutal and will leave me with fewer friends than I had before.  The sad thing is that is a very hard thing to accomplish.

So….here we go.  I’m not sure which subject I will so ineptly tackle next, but it’s going to be a doozy, and I will make a right mess of it.  In any case, know that I want solutions, not answers, and if you understand the minute difference we might just get along after all.

Lots to write, but for now….

Love, Peace, & Tea:

Mark

Muck + Irish Eyes

July 3, 2012

I’m really tired of being so ambitious with this blog.  You wouldn’t know it, because I post so rarely, but on this side of the ink curtain it’s a bloody mess and only getting worse.  I really hate to start every post with an apology, but I think in this case this public excoriation is more for me rather than you.

The problem is that I keep trying to tackle really big, ambitious subjects.  For instance, I tried writing about “Thinspo”, or, in layman’s terms, that subsect of blogging which is not only devoted to anorexia, but towards encouraging oneself and others to stay strong and remain committed to the ideal.  Do you have any idea how hard it is even to begin a single sentence on that subject?  To get my point across (which was admittedly a fairly convoluted one to begin with), would have required the precision of a rhetorical surgeon, and that is way, way beyond my ken.  After the first few lines any person of normal intelligence would have thought, “so you’re supporting what these poor girls are doing to themselves?”.  And the answer is “No no no no….that’s not what I meant…it’s just that I sort of….I mean, I can relate….it’s rather like….um…ug….sigh”.

I often tell my students that anything worthwhile requires work.  What I don’t tell them is how often I shy away from it.

I’ve been thinking quite a lot about writing.  Not only about “Gee, I wish I could write ______”, but about the honest capabilities of whatever writing muscle I might posses.  And I think it’s worth noting: I write songs.  As much as I salivate over poets, immerse myself in fiction, and scratch my chin at incisive social commentary, the fact remains that I am essentially engaged in a lazy man’s “art”, and yes, I use those quotation marks very, very deliberately.

It’s not that I don’t think songs are art, but from a purely verbal perspective it might perhaps be overrated.

Unfortunately, I have wandered into yet another territory that is too broad for my pen, so for now I will have to leave it be and say good night.  Before I do, here is installment #4 of Royal Chant’s Sleep Quintet.  Music is changing in every way, from it’s conception to its reception, so we have created a “thing” and have decided to curate it in our own fashion, molded out of pride and financial restraint.  It is yours to do with as you see fit.  It is ours, from the heart.

Cheers for now….it’s 11:30 and the tennis is on.  There’s some cider lying around and I shall most certainly indulge.  My plane leaves for Brisbane in 10 hours.  I’m looking forward to a spell away.  I’ll miss the cat though, among other things.

Cheers & Peace & Tea to you all…

Mark