Monday, 22 November 2010

An Economic Monday


Well I'm sure the markets are open and my trip to Shanghai is causing no major fluctuations.

My trip will be filled with a book called Death of the Liberal Class.

In the Vancouver airport and enjoying a Stella while J rests on a bench.

    Across from me is an elderly gentleman and a younger Asian woman…

i imagine she is a mail order bride as she bites into her burger with relish…

                        they appear to be fond of each other…

to my right is a table full of white males in their thirties who are also enjoying a morning drink…

one is talking about his girlfriends dog walking business…

not to worry…the dog’s are fine

My good friend says we travel to see different sets and enjoy a new cast of characters…

of course she is cinematic but strangely hates the word “movie.”

An Airport Poem

The economy can only go


a strange belief in perpetual improvement…

                                        did we not know Oprah lied

An Airport Reality                  

the security is getting better

                                    you are being watched

                                                  you better buy  

let the drum beat

                   in the distance

                                   be your war cry…

Did i mention drinking

                              The liberals, the musicians, the musicians, the artists 

                                 sold out

and are into Buddhism or capitalism

                 Ozzy Osborne and Gene Simmons are clowns

the Dali Lama knows no better.


  This is Monday and this is an economic blog

Sunday, 21 November 2010

A Religious Blog

travelling, time, god  J  evolution, internet, narrative and my schedule  religion, minoru church 004


think deeply for 

I am a man

on the move

which is not great

for contemplation…




in a way past language…

                       mercifully i will have none in Shanghai

but the cons

outweigh the pros



goes only

one way…

winding down…

but the cons

outweigh the pros



for years i would yell

then  mutter

“I still believe”

but the cons

outweigh the pros



eyes shining

the Buddha

providing mercy

but the cons

outweigh the pros



fifty years ago

we were the same species

did something happen to our soul?

but the cons

outweigh the pros



                                   words on screens

a bigger quicker

more seamless


but the cons

outweigh the pros



           what’s the point?

there is none

          what does that mean?

there is no story

we are the

happy ending

but the cons

outweigh the pros



for asia

Monday-stock market, economic financial musings

Tuesday-J. Stories

Wednesday-Cdn literature from a chinese perspective, a CBC documentary

Thursday- Poems for the Shaw will be put on hold, my great curse

Friday- Freelance (sweet)

Saturday-Where I live

Today is Sunday and this is a religious blog.

a thoughtful day

                                    Now that my great poem is complete i need to buy my cute niece a birthday present, pack, bring the birds to my sister, eat and hygiene and the rest of that…then one sleep and here i go Shanghai…my debut in yet another international city

“His earthshaking documentary on Chinese ignorance of Canadian literature.” 

“He came to prominence in western thinking with his treatise on Nietzsche and Mao…”

being delusional is one of my hobbies

Saturday, 20 November 2010

No Operator

The snow has fallen early this year snow 064

as i sit slightly disgraced

bragging in the bar

i was a stock market operator

to Paul, who is in his seventies and a mining engineer. 


I am an idiot gambler

                     who…barely knows…

I have invested in a diamond mine in the Yukon…

                        i mean Artic

based on a tout sheet

the brother of a notorious Howe street speculator

and the interest of a major. 


“The instant gratification thing”

is getting faster

hence peoples propensity to gamble…

the junior resource sector should out perform the general market…

money has to go someplace and they keep printing more…                                             

so i speculate

to increase my wealth

                                                                while creating nothing personally


and maybe the company has a successful diamond mine…

thank goodness.


Footnote: in post modern parlance that is known as an “excess economy”       



a.Vincent is getting organized and the odds of him getting evicted are one in ten.

                          I keep reminding him to pay the rent. 


b. I’m off to Shanghai on Sunday and am excited and confused, really I’m    going    on Monday which is only two sleeps…a 12 hour plane ride…then a two hour train ride then up 6 flight of stairs and i say hello to j’s father

                                             nee how ba ba

snow 036 snow 056


c. the cute barkeep, Brooks whom I have a crush on is a  lesbian…                          

i said “I can set you up”…and she looked interested  

c+.with absurdity via Camus.

     d.               Shawn would you like to write a poem.

   oh the paradox…life is meaningless yet we have to make meaning while            realizing it’s all meaningless…you can see how that leans into existentialism…and i’m not sure about Sartre…i never got through “Being and Nothingness”

f.                           Getting harder to complain.

g. Edmonton is a good cold city. 

                                             This is Saturday and this is where i live.

Friday, 19 November 2010

Freelance Friday


watching video of the t-party and

i cannot see the connection

between Obama and Hitler,

           i don’t see o blaming anyone

                                     and h had genocide designs

o wants everyone to have access

to health care, a basic human right

                                            he wants government out of your lives

                    you wants rules regarding abortion

                              gay marriage, and social programs

some t partiers believe fascism

and socialism are same same

you are mostly white, mostly uneducated,

mostly working class

              your way of life has not improved in the last thirty years

                                  yet the divide has increased 5 fold,

                                            you are not financed from within                                     you are financed by the richest of the rich

                             we who know the system

             rake a working days wage

in a few seconds  

                                                    money is…

                                                    work for the poor

                                                                          an unspoken rule

                                time is freedom.

Al Purdy Agrees

“I worked five years in a mattress factory” 

as we get older

           our quest for time

supersedes power

     “let’s do something good”

                            a post modernist stutters

                       people are people…

this is considered elitist

and for some reason

                                                not the super wealthy

Federal judge pleads guilty to drug charges

                      U.S. District Court Judge Jack Camp Jr. admitted giving money to a woman to buy drugs, say prosecutors.                                                        Atlanta,Georgia                                     A  67 year old federal judge pleaded guilty Friday to two counts of drug possession after admitting he had paid a stripper, Sherry Ann 26 years of age,  to buy weed, coke and roxycodone. they could party together.

there is hope…

Thursday, 18 November 2010

Happy Belated BDAY John Lennon

The dress rehearsal

more good news


ok Thursday

regarding progress on the book of prose poems

                               Poems for the Shaw

i have moved all the copies

I am planning to use 

        from the second desk

                             onto the glass coffee table

                      I may need to compile more information

or at least look at what i already have



until i got a short book 

              even shorter


Why is that little episode so compelling to me?

is it because i stood up for something;

asserted my will on the world in a “good” way?

is it because i wanted to give voice

         to an underclass of people

                       i had never heard of

                                       being middle class white

Lennon sardonically points to capitalisms myth







there is no hero

  the hippies

                       riding the wave 

                as per Madison Ave, Hollywood, and Records

                     coca cola gives

                              love a chance

i mean

                                wants to teach the world to sing



you can still spend three months

of your super important life

with a book and give best effort… 

                                    thank god

Thursday is almost over and in four sleeps

I'm off to Asia…where J’s father has bought a new water boiler

so we have hot water…which is nice


Wednesday, 17 November 2010

Canada Lit., Two Things, Layton and Cohen

(Yet as Layton often says, artists must align themselves with reality in order to survive).

there’s only two things stopping me from being a “good” writer…

one is “talent” and the other “motivation”…

                                                                    to borrow an old Woody Allen joke


Can lit “the image”…an essay in experience from within

outside of herself,  what do others see?

in a lower socio economic reality

the participants

were never discussed

not to mention the institution


                                                        the closest 

                         an Edmonton librarian(entry level government) 

                                              who loved my work


the wealthy read and buy books

                                                  and are unfazed  by their lifestyles


Can Lit and Cohen

Cohen came the the closest to shaking it up,

but only from a far, first Greece, then LA…  


Layton and then Leonard

Layton, as is well known, became more Jewish

later in life…a renewed interest…already a good poet… 


Can Lit and Buddhism

Cohen spends five years in the mountains on a meditation retreat

                    a living legend and writes he has

“no special spiritual talent”.







First We Take Manhattan

by Leonard Cohen

They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom
For trying to change the system from within
       I'm coming now, I'm coming to reward them
                                First we take Manhattan,  then we take Berlin.

I'm guided by a signal      in the heavens
I'm guided by this birthmark     on my skin
I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin.

I'd really like to live beside you, baby
I love your body and your spirit and your clothes
But you see that line there moving through the station?
I told you, I told you, told you, I was one of those
Ah you loved me as a loser,but now you're worried that I  just might win                                                                                                      

You know the way to stop me but you don't have the discipline                        

How many nights I prayed to let my work begin
First we take Manhattan,then we take Berlin

I don't like your fashion business mister
And I don't like these drugs that keep you thin
I don't like what happened to my sister
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

I'd really like to live beside you, baby
I love your body and your spirit and your clothes
But you see that line there moving through the station?
I told you, I told you, told you, I was one of those
And I thank you for those items that you sent me          

“The monkey and the plywood violin”

I practiced every night, now I'm ready
First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

Remember me? I used to live for music
Remember me? I brought your groceries in
                    “Well it's Father's Day and everybody's wounded”
First we take Manhattan,then we take Berlin

the end.

Discussion (tongue in cheek)
I suspect this was written for music

so on the printed page it is…

                                                an existential angst, mixed with knowing, but unable to do anything..

                                                 Cohen's’ famous cynicism 


Because we don’t like popular music too much                                                  over all we can only give him a grade of

Of course, if ranked in his genre it would be much higher…

somewhere above Lady Ga Ga                                                                          and below Madonna…joking kind of…

Another view from Academia

Clint Burnham argues that Flowers for Hitler articulates a significant postmodern move,

and links Cohen to other critics of the media:                       

                                        Innes, McLuhan, Adorno, Jameson. 

Cohen's poem "Style" suggests another line of inquiry. 

The image of "electric unremembering" migrates throughout the volume. 

Burnham's assertion that Flowers for Hitler typifies the postmodern denial of subjecthood finds confirmation in the very title of the poem

"It Uses Us!"

“It” remains ominously undefined, but clear that “It” is some strange powerful thing that acts upon us,

Burnham sees such parasitic feeding as part of the ongoing dominance and spread of capitalism. 

The impersonal feeds on the personal.

For a narcissist like Cohen this would be particularly painful i generalize.

Typical is the "interpenetration of technology and the body" or cyberpunk,  

"I have lost a telephone / with your smell in it."

Burnham challenges those canon-making views of literary history which  address issues of style or influence

while neglecting the huge forces of economic and political change.


Leonard Cohen once said of Irving Layton, "I taught him how to dress, he taught me how to live forever."

Three Poems by Irving Layton

The Slaughterhouse

In the absurd slaughterhouse that is history where there are no heroes but only butchers and the slain, no matter what fables silly poets tell and theologians believe, make certain the cleaver is yours and the bared throat someone else’s. But best if, from a safe niche away from the roar of those whom power maddens you can observed the flashing blades and the beautiful rosettes their spilled blood makes on page and floor.


Brother and fellow poet is this what you wanted?

The muttering of bead counting hysterics? The snufflings of joyless misfits and cripples fearful of death, more fearful of life? The misereres of the doomed dregs in every large metropolis of the world? The hosannahs of the conformist hordes stinking of money and respectability?

Is this what you wanted: the grey suburban church and the greyer people shambling into it each Sunday you who openly consorted with whores and drunkards and so loved laughter and joy that you were willing to be crucified for them?

After Auschwitz

My son, don’t be a waffling poet; let each word you write be direct and honest like the crack of a gun

believe an aging poet of the twentieth century: neither the Old Testament nor the New or the saying of the Koran or the Three Baskets of Wisdom or of the Dhammapada will ever modify or restrain, the beastliness of men

Lampshades were made from the skins of a people preaching the gospel of love; the ovens of Auschwitz and Belsen are open testimony to their folly

Despite memorial plaques of horror and contrition repentance my son, is short lived

an automatic rifle endures a life time

                                            if you made it this far

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Tuesday, 16 November 2010


Last night read at a poetry slam

poetry reading commercial toby shook 008

during the open mike

i was the first reader

and read the following

(written 15 or so years ago)

when i was living on the drive


Toby Shook

she wore a tight red dress

danced crazy

took her home

and we fucked

three times that night

she screamed so loud i thought she’d wake the neighbors


and after that

i called her everyday

for  months


but she was getting married

to a plastic surgeon

with a nice view of the ocean


but it didn’t work out


and the next time she came to my bed

i pulled her hair and she ran from the room crying

and i lay in bed wondering


and i went to her

she told me

of being new in Canada


no mother, 

abused by teachers   


she cried a little bit more

we hugged a little bit  more


she bowed her head

stuck her ass in the air


I entered.


The end


A few people clapped.

A poet friend said poetry reading commercial toby shook 001

“You scared them.”

and Vincent kept talking poetry reading commercial toby shook 002

well into his second bottle

so they asked him to leave


I think i made a good impression

 poetry reading commercial toby shook 003   






a J story

my grandmother and mother wanted to put me into a garbage can because i am a girl  and look like my father.

They hate my father and girls.

I was sick because they took the money my father was giving me

$12 a month which was good money in 1965

and fed me rice so i don’t have nutrition

and my mother has to take time off work to take me to the hospital ,

i am my mothers second child

my brother is a year older, healthy and well liked

they wish i die slowly

because they still want to get the monthly payment…

they want the money and not me…

on my mothers side of the family no one works…

i am only a baby…what can i do?…

my mother loves other people more than me…

i never had a birthday present from my mother…

why does she love people and not me?…

why does she give me life?

no clothes, no outings,no park, no movie

all i do is study…

in my school we have six classes of fifty students…

three hundred student at my level

i am the number one student and they put my name in the school lobby…

everyone knows this  except my mother…

when the teacher asks is she not proud to have such a smart daughter

she is quiet.

When we get home she watches me a long time

her face has many meanings…

I’m  too busy and i don’t talk to her often

Monday, 15 November 2010

Monday Morning


In a suburb outside of Vancouver one

would not guess we were in a recession

                                  or even an economic slowdown


                 yet a quick glance at the media


     the average American makes less than $30,000 a year

600 billion being pumped into the economy


New Conversations


and in a just global economy

       for a world to live at level

the planet would have to be eight times bigger


Just to comment on this poem,

                   addicted to my morning coffee

and the thought of cigarettes


It is weird for a poet,

         lots of developments…   

                                            god’s on the move

he’s not in my head.


Canada Lit rocks

Lenard Cohen and Adrienne Clarkson have a good conversation

with Cohen throwing in a few snide remarks

he is arrogant and talented

                                              “posterity is a paltry form of eternity”

             which is annoying

                                       Clarkson takes the high ground

Sunday, 14 November 2010

A Religious Blog

Sunday and i did not go to church,

but i did momentarily question faith

                 if it is 

“a belief in the “unknown or the unknowable”

                            why do so many people have so much to say

as Wilber would add,

never has so much                                                                                                                        meant so little                                                                         



still a bit of a shit storm

after i wet the bed

                      we’re off to china in a week

                and i still don’t know

why i’m going



man a cigarette

would be nice

but i only do that

on Friday’s now.



I’m going platinum



same as above


View point

people have a deep need to believe in something beyond themselves…

           the latest twist on


                                             not only mirror

                                    but also creation 

                like an eternity,

                                          (sorry no you tube)

like space would still be here

          even if we were not

                    non linear


relativity means constant


no straight line.

Saturday, 13 November 2010

Where I Live


Hung over Saturday,

and there has been an accident,

but the sheets have been washed and the bed is drying.


                                    I have a crush on a cute barkeep called “Brooks.”


One of my drinking buddies is 68,

has three kids at home, the youngest 11

a wife and a dog and cat…he drinks good 

and says all the “life” keeps him young


vincent has an amazing blog

which i can’t find

The internet is giving many a voice

let’s ensure we grow this number


On the Human Side

                                             going to my parents for dinner

The transition into the

technological/information age

is in full swing

                                   Only three times has this happened in history

                     two            the industrial revolution

and who knows the third?



Poetry will be be a part of many mediums,

                             the inner world needs voice


300 Years Ago

               unbelievable unimaginable

neutrons, sociology, electric guitars, Wal-Mart

                           not to mention airplanes, the internet and porn

                                                                                     on we go…

Friday, 12 November 2010


Freelance day,

do what you like

or what you planned


or not 

                     be alive in the comfort zone,

                  after all,

                         that is the only place things get done…

even blogging has it’s benefits…

though i have done this for a long time…truck and image 007

instant dissemination is  new

finally i understand the term

                                                            god speed…

i am not from the technical era


These guys are:

                                  monologues - the dead flag blues (intro)

this monologue appears at the beginning of the dead flag blues from the album f#a#oo; it comes from incomplete movie about jail, an unfinished film that efrim wrote and has been working on for the last five years.

the car's on fire and there's no driver at the wheel
                 and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
and a dark wind blows

the government is corrupt
and we're on so many drugs
                      with the radio on and the curtains drawn

we're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
and the machine is bleeding to death …(not crazy about this line)

the sun has fallen down
and the billboards are all leering
and the flags are all dead on top of their poles

it went like this:

the buildings tumbled in on themselves
mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble
and pulled out their hair

the skyline was beautiful on fire
all twisted metal stretching upwards
everything washed in a thin orange haze

i said: "kiss me, you're beautiful -
these are truly the last days"

you grabbed my hand and we fell into it
like a daydream or a fever

we woke up one morning and fell a little further down -
for sure it's the valley of death

i open up my wallet
and it's full of blood


caution is warranted


Canadian Intelligentsia

The Progress Traps

as Ronald Wright


from bow and arrow                                     

    to bullet

         from gun

             to nuclear war…


the logic of war.


                           “and the mood is sombre and i have no beer.”


Residence in the New Year

salt spring 030  i remind myself

as the days slip past

my body decays

as i get older



back to the 340 tonight

and in the afternoon

I’ll exercise

go food shopping

and maybe get a massage


the stock market corrects



i am compelled

to record my self

and music

have the names

of two able

industry fellows

and here I


not quite afraid

to make the call.

Thursday, 11 November 2010

Remembrance Day

on my blogging schedule


write about a book of prose/poems called

<“Poems For the Shaw”

And i would rather do anything else.


Book in Question

The book describes how i organized the Edmonton conference center.

i was working as a dishwasher, kitchen steward, living with a beautiful Cree and writing poems.

“When she having the mattress removed from her back?” referring to my girlfriend

and I went cold

as a small matter of vengeance

then got myself fired&

“a union is a group of people who negotiate the terms of their employment”

athletes have a union



The Writing Process

Why would i want to write this book?

because I “should”…

help others,

call my parents,



save money

and and and


The Distraction

i’ve rented a secluded cabin

on a small island

and in three and half months i’ll

finish the book…

December 15th&; 2010;11/11/11/11

Attended a Remembrance Day  

and imagined the life of a soldier.

We sang God Save the Queen twice ="_new"> War Poetry was read a few times…


Re: unfinished works

Genet believes in finishing what one starts,

“an unlived life is a crime”

for the other side,

“I sat there alone, looking at his unfinished works, for several hours, as my mind and soul deconstructed the notion of what it means to “complete” something.”

Mark Kaplan&



An Exciting New Blog

The Birds are Fine

rememeberance day 004

Wednesday, 10 November 2010

Al Purdy (December 30, 1918 – April 21, 2000)

Piling Blood

It was powdered blood
in heavy brown paper bags
supposed to be strong enough
to prevent the stuff from escaping
but didn't
we piled it ten feet high
right to the shed roof
working at Arrow Transfer
on Granville Island
The bags weighed 75 pounds
and you had to stand on two
of the bags to pile the top rows
I was six feet three inches
and needed all of it
I forgot to say
the blood was cattle blood
horses sheep and cows
to be used for fertilizer
the foreman said
It was a matter of some delicacy
to plop the bags down softly
as if you were piling dynamite
if you weren't gentle
the stuff would belly out
from bags in brown clouds
settle on your sweating face
cover hands and arms
enter ears and nose
seep inside pants and shirt
reverting back to liquid blood
and you looked like
you'd been scalped
by a tribe of
particularly unfreindly
Indians and forgot to die
We piled glass as well
it came in wooden crates
two of us hoicking them
off trucks into warehouses
every crate
weighing 200 pounds
By late afternoon
my muscles would twitch and throb
in a death-like rhythm
from hundreds of bags of blood
and hundreds of crates of glass
Then at Burn's slaughterhouse
on East Hastings Street
I got a job part time
shouldering sides of frozen beef
hoisting it from steel hooks
staggering to and from
the refrigerated trucks
and eerie freezing rooms
with breath a white vapour
among the dangling corpses
and the sound of bawling animals
screeched down from an upper floor
with their throats cut
and blood gurgling into special drains
for later retrieval
And the blood smell clung to me
clung to clothes and body
sickly and sweet
and I heard the screams
of dying cattle
and I wrote no poems
there were no poems
to exclude the screams
which boarded the streetcar
and travelled with me
till I reached home
turned on the record player
and faintly
in the last century
heard Beethoven weeping

Canada Lit.

15 or so years ago I saw Purdy read on south Granville,

across from where the Vancouver papers, the Sun and the Province,

use to be printed, it could have been a press club

and i believe it was

                          a chinese chick read a poem

                                       about her boyfriend pissing on her

while she sat on the toilet

and then she drank and smoked cigarettes and watched the sun come up from her east side apartment                                                              

                                                       Purdy was not impressed

and the organizers had to

take him outside to calm him down

then he read about subduing a drunk    and beer tasting like a horse fart

which my house  painter friend                   found amusing

     After i went to talk with him and buy a book from a stall he had set up…                              i believe his wife was there…

i asked him what book i should buy and he said his best one was “Piling Blood.”

he signed a copy and punched me on the shoulder

i can’t remember why…

working class poems don’t seem to get a lot of play in literary magazines…

and if they do…

it is sentimentalized…

academia is not part of the masses

they do not represent the working people…ok fine

working outside in minus twenty

is not romantic or fun,

you just want the day to end

so you can get warm.

Al Purdy was a poet who worked and drank and wondered.



a poetry industry that is funded by the government

by it’s very definition wants too support the status quo

                 and make sure u understand  the grant writing business

         and have the stomach for it

                                         more importantly the patience



creating art through words.

For example:



by Dennis E. Lee

I left the world and came back

without new discoveries   

but in the airless distance

the stars did seem clearer


  ( in a binary system 1-2 1-2 )

                            (gradients are not so obvious)


In Canada the magazines

                                think it is cool to have

pictures of pictures, cameras of cameras ,  mirrors or mirrors  etc.


About Us

B.C. Arts and Culture Facts

Arts and culture are major economic generators.

  • B.C.'s arts and culture sector employs more than 78,000 people and contributes more than $5.2 billion each year to our provincial economy.
  • It is estimated that $566 million of B.C.’s tourism revenues can be attributed to arts and culture activities.
  • In 2005, British Columbians spent an average of $886 per capita on arts and culture, the second highest spending per capita of all provinces.
  • Total spending on cultural goods and services was $3.6 billion in 2005 (most recent available figures).
  • BC residents spent $160 million on live performing arts, 39% more was spent than on live sports events ($110 million in 2005). Twice as many B.C. households (40%) spent money on live performing arts than on live sports events (20%).
  • Among 15 metropolitan areas in Canada, Victoria ranks second in terms of per capita spending on all cultural goods and services at $1,007 per person. Total cultural spending was $310 million in Victoria in 2005.

Quick Links

                              and of course,

                                                         since Nietzsche

                                               everything is dead,

                                                               a vancouver mag   

Poetry Is Dead Magazine

Al Purdy Biography - (1918–2000), Piling blood, The enchanted echo, The crafte so long to lerne

Tuesday, 9 November 2010


richmond 004

“and all neurosis is vanity…”

                       obsessed with bras

                                         and fashion

                   in the eyes of the lord,

not important…


behind Lady Gaga’s,

“little monsters”


post humanism


news flash:   Future Merges with Technology,

from carbon to silicone,

                                   justify…mind ahead of body,

                                  body- mind- sould- spirit

transcends and forget



sitting typing on a computer does not activate my physical body

much or even less reading symbols on a screen,

                                my mind is engaged but it could be anywhere,


i speak for myself

and all the old bookworms,

“Julie is a Librarian that drinks like a fish, but she doesn't get out much. Her cats and trashy romance novels keep her warm at night. Dirty D knew that an escape to the adult bookstore was all that was needed to bring out her inner slut. Julie eagerly strips and drops to her knees to suck the first stranger's hard cock. She takes load after hot load in the face until her glasses are dripping with cum!”

                                                              minds by their necessity are hungry,

consciousness does seem to want to improve

or at least be unhappy

richmond 004

                                   “ improvement is a dissatisfaction of the present “      



                                                                  garbage in garbage out

and i slept

as it got dark

on the wet coast


i get thirteen

hours away

from the noise



                                                  CBC and oblivion…

it must be strange…

being douglas copeland

and doing the Massey Lectures

i can be an instant publisher

and author

and have an audience

albeit a small one…

                          more personal and less collective…

individuality is now seen

as a number of norms

                             Foucault will argue

                                                                     Fuck…I’m a name dropper!

with nothing to say…

                                    these are “J” stories and this is Tuesday

and i am poet rising !  richmond 015

We have been merging with technology since the advent of electricity, living inside has separated me from outside, and my mind and body change


we row the boat

                                soon I'm off to Shanghai

Monday, 8 November 2010

Ear on Arm

This ear has been surgically attached to this “artists” arm and will be able to hear…via the internet.

His name is Stelarc and his webpage is available through my blog roll.

Body modification, tattooing, piercings, implants, organ regeneration…

                                                     I do none of that…

                                                                      I knew i wasn’t weird…

i just don’t like to work…

                          so let us return to more sobering issues…

on this mundane Monday, as i listen to a motorcycle speed past my girlfriends eight story condominium complex, i blog

the blog schedule for those who are wondering:

Monday are economic poems(I use the underlined word lightly)

Tuesday are J stories

Wednesday i discuss Canadian literature or lack there of

Thursday progress on my book of prose poems called

“Poems for the Shaw” and the getting published process

Friday- Freelance      

Saturday- Where I Live

Sunday- Religion

As blogging, is primarily a writing exercise, having topics offers parameters in which i can operate…

stream of consciousness does not provide discipline

and requires impulsivity..                             

of which i have ample

                                                                                                                                             so on to the economy…!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Stock Market Recommendations regardless of ethics


Things are getting worse…                          and i keep making money...

                                               through no fault of my own…

i have bought after a crash and am up about 30%...

but why?

                       are the equity markets on the up and up…

A. the stock market is a measure of capital

                                   and everyone keeps printing money




I am invested in a stock with the symbol AHC on the TSX…

if the market does not collapse and the demand for resources stays strong,

                                            it will be an easy double…

i am buying at .15 to .16 cents…

                    (the world is getting smarter,

                                    now you need some expertise

                                                              or at least an education…

                                                                             let’s all get rich together)



Artha Resources Corp (AHC-V)


Current Issued and Outstanding: 30.1 million
Warrants: 13.3 million
Options: 1.4 million
Fully Diluted: 45.7 million

Web Site:

Market Cap


…summer of 2009 …Artha which was controlled by Todd McMurray acquired 5 projects in Argentina from a company controlled by David and Charles Straw, a father son geologist team for 9.5 million shares

and thus the Straws are incentivized…

                       McMurray has just under a million shares…

The properties David and Charlie believe are promising  surround the Purquitas silver-tin-zinc mine of Silver Standard and apparently have never been properly explored.

The geologists create the “news” and the promoter tells the story and pushes the stock. 

“The pieces needed to launch a speculation cycle are all falling into place.”                    

                                                      says the stock market pundit.

Private Placement Key


So now u all know how to double ur money

but don’t take my word,

Kaiser the bottom fish recommender

is also a buyer