Keith:
I just opened a letter from an insurance company. The first line began: "We are pleased to announce..." Try that for a spontaneous poem
Ron Self
Letter from Insurance Company
We are pleased to announce
you are able to read this letter
thus must have at least an ounce
of life left in your ugly leather.
Therefore we aim to advertize
the importance of insurance
which many Joes fail to realize
improves your body’s permanence.
See the quality of the box matters
as does the carving of the stone
and to afford makeup that flatters
you ought now pick up that phone.
Don’t try to claim you’re too feeble—
receivers barely outweigh paper
and we’re trained to know people
how to reap a chunk of their labor.
But we’re not in it for the cash—
you must believe that it’s true.
We're pleased to take out your trash
when your sack filling days are through.
"There Goes the Top of My Head" - a paraphrase of Emily Dickinson’s criteria for recognizing a true poem. Although I've left older posts here about all sorts of topic, for the foreseeable future, this will be my repository for anything literary: book reviews / reactions, writing journal, and any topics related to editing or writing poetry or fiction.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Looking for a Prompt for Tomorrow's Spontaneous Poem
As you may or may not know, I have begun a project where I write a "Spontaneous Poem" every Friday, inspired by the prompt of the first person who sends me something that week.
I am only taking prompts starting Wednesday evenings, since I don't want too much time to think about the poem ahead of writing it.
Prompts can be anything:
phrases
random words
concepts
line(s) by another poet
poetry assignments, such as writing a Sonnet which mentions African Violets
graphics
songs
anything!
Currently I do not have a prompt for this week. So send me something soon. Use this email address which should be written without any spaces: the bearded poet AT hot mail DOT com (I'm writing it this way to subvert spammers!)
I guarantee to write based on the first prompt received. If time permits, I will attempt to do others.
You can view the results every Friday on my Blog. (See the link below.)
By the way, "Spontaneous Poems" are given away. In other words, I will not revise them or claim ownership of them. This is an exercise in being free and giving freely. The concept is designed to help you break away from own inner critic, who sometimes suppresses your creativity. The poems you write are not YOURS. They belong to the world! We sometimes get cramped about this.
Thanks in advance for your participation.
Peace,
Keith
__________________________________
For reviews, poetry commentary, and creative nonsense, visit my blog There Goes the Top of My Head.
Give to a good cause with every e-mail. Join the i'm Initiative from Microsoft.
I am only taking prompts starting Wednesday evenings, since I don't want too much time to think about the poem ahead of writing it.
Prompts can be anything:
phrases
random words
concepts
line(s) by another poet
poetry assignments, such as writing a Sonnet which mentions African Violets
graphics
songs
anything!
Currently I do not have a prompt for this week. So send me something soon. Use this email address which should be written without any spaces: the bearded poet AT hot mail DOT com (I'm writing it this way to subvert spammers!)
I guarantee to write based on the first prompt received. If time permits, I will attempt to do others.
You can view the results every Friday on my Blog. (See the link below.)
By the way, "Spontaneous Poems" are given away. In other words, I will not revise them or claim ownership of them. This is an exercise in being free and giving freely. The concept is designed to help you break away from own inner critic, who sometimes suppresses your creativity. The poems you write are not YOURS. They belong to the world! We sometimes get cramped about this.
Thanks in advance for your participation.
Peace,
Keith
__________________________________
For reviews, poetry commentary, and creative nonsense, visit my blog There Goes the Top of My Head.
Give to a good cause with every e-mail. Join the i'm Initiative from Microsoft.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Star Trek (TOS) Book Review: Enterprise: The First Adventure by Vonda N. McIntyre
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Part of the reason I’ve gotten back on a Star Trek kick after about a 10 year hiatus is anticipation of the new movie coming in about one year. The premise of the new movie is an origin story of sorts, showing how the crew from the original television show came together, the story of their first adventure together. The crew has been recast, of course. And on top of that the producers, director, and writers are saying things like, ‘The new movie will be unlike anything you’ve ever seen in Star Trek, but entirely faithful to what has come before.’ Sounds like a lofty goal. I hope it is actually true. No doubt, not all Trekkies will be pleased with the finally result.
Most Trekkies (“The Original Series” Trekkies anyway), however, would be quite pleased I think with the “first adventure” as envisioned by Vonda N. McIntyre in her 1986 novel. From the standpoint of character driven fiction, where the hopes, desires, self-doubts, strengths, and weaknesses of the players are the pivotal ingredients for the story, Enterprise: The First Adventure is without a doubt one of the best Star Trek novels ever written. Case in point, this is the only Trek novel I’ve read that succeeded in making Yeoman Rand an endearing and fully-fleshed out person.
McIntyre actually creates a full-blown back-story for Rand that fits completely with what little we see of her in the original series. Yet the story is completely unexpected and surprising. It involves her having been enslaved and making a daring escape prior to joining Starfleet. Rand is shown to be meek and nervous due to her horrific past experiences. Uhura takes the timid Rand under her wing and helps to build her confidence. In the course of the novel, we get to see her grow not only in her demeanor but also her decision to grow out her hair. It’s these small details that make this novel extraordinary.
The scenes where McIntyre portrays the main characters first impressions of each other are delightful, believable, and (at times) shocking. For instance here’s Kirk’s first impression of Spock:
Jim had little use for science officers. They always wanted to impart far more unsolicited information than he needed at any given moment about any given problem. And every time he had made the mistake of actually asking a science officer a question, he had ended up feeling that he might as well be back in an Academy lecture hall.
Jim probably would not have much interaction with Commander Spock. With any luck, the Vulcan would be one of those withdrawn intellectual types who preferred to remain secluded with experiments somewhere in the depths of the ship’s laboratories. (p. 40)
On the facing page, we get Spock’s first appraisal of Kirk:
Commander Spock had little use for heroes. Whatever the self-sacrifice required for heroism, however commendable or admirable the actions might be, a person could only become a hero within an environment of chaos and destruction. In Commander Spock’s view, foresight and rationality should prevent the evolution of any such environment. He wondered if James Kirk, facing a crisis, would choose rationality, or succumb to the lure of heroism. (p. 41)
McIntyre is writer who understands that no character, no matter how short their appearance in the story, should be left standing around like window-dressing. The most minor characters in the novel have significant and meaningful roles to play. Sam Kirk, Jim’s brother, is not only present to support and cheer the youngest Captain in Starfleet, but also he serves as the conduit between Jim and Sulu. Sulu is especially uncomfortable coming aboard the Enterprise because his ship assignment was changed at the last minute, against his wishes. Sam, it turns out, is an old friend of Sulu’s family from when Hikaru was a child. Sam immediately helps to break the ice by personally introducing Sulu to his brother Jim.
There are a number of scenes that will cause any veteran Trek fan to chuckle. Kirk keeps thinking how he hopes Gary Mitchell can be his First Officer instead of Spock, once Mitchell recovers from an injury. Knowing the one television episode where Mitchell appears, in which he becomes corrupted by absolute power, this Trek fan just had to laugh, knowing Mitchell’s destiny in advance.
Additional pleasure comes from scenes that illustrate the inner core of these characters we know like old friends. McCoy’s Grand Canyon vacation is just so HIM. It’s completely anti-technology and just down-right earthy. Interestingly McIntyre uses McCoy’s incommunicado status to reveal more of the good Doctor’s back-story. Kirk calls McCoy’s ex in search of him.
The incidental humor is strong. There’s a funny problem with the food synthesizer where veggies are produced in the shape and texture of steak. On the other hand, the item looking like an avocado is actually beef. Some of the crew are shocked to see vegetarian Spock shoving a bloody hunk of meat into his mouth, not knowing that he’s determined it’s the best way to get the amount of chlorophyll he prefers.
The first Spock vs. McCoy argument/debate is a doosey. I won’t ruin it for you. All I’ll say is that it is absolutely perfect. As is Kirk’s initial impression that Scotty has a problem with orders. In the series, how many times is Scotty shown to question, complain, and otherwise gripe about what the Captain wants his engines to do? McIntyre addresses this dynamic beautifully. Kirk even asks for Scotty’s resignation.
You may notice, if you’ve even read this far, that I haven’t mentioned any kind of “adventure”. Well, that’s because the “first adventure” doesn’t actually kick off until well past the halfway point in the novel. This is no detriment though. I was so pleased with the subtle ways in which McIntyre developed and revealed the characters, I didn’t sense any lack of anything. And when the adventure arrives, it’s fairly lightweight. For that matter, the ‘guest star’ characters Ms. Lukarian of the vaudeville company and an emotional Vulcan named Stephen, are lightweight characters as well. Thankfully the aliens encountered are fresh and intriguing, but there’s never any real sense of threat or danger. (Well, maybe ‘never’ is an exaggeration.)
The main point is McIntyre delivers on her portrayal of the main Star Trek character much more so than on plot or on her own original elements. For most Trekkies, character is the main point anyway. If we didn’t love that crew and think of them as dear old friends, we wouldn’t have trekked with them this far and this long. All I can say is that the characters we love are alive in this novel. To me that’s a remarkable achievement.
P.S. For a contrary review that characterizes McIntyre’s novel as “juvenile”, see: http://trekmovie.com/2008/04/21/library-computer-retro-review-enterprise-first-adventure-pockets-2009-book-plans/
I’m not sure we read the same book. And anyway wouldn’t you expect these characters to seem a bit younger in their attitudes and actions at this point in the chronology?
Monday, May 19, 2008
Ever Heard of Tanka?
Nope, it's not a decaffeinated coffee!
Even if you have heard of “tanka,” you might not know that they are five line poems that are similar to haiku in that they conjure succinct moments with a bare minimum of words.
Those who are fond of rules might ask about the syllable count for such poems. In answer, I must first caution you that tanka is a Japanese form; so we’re talking quite a big language difference here between English and Japanese. For hardcore rule followers, let’s say 31 syllables per tanka with the lines divided into five syllabic units: 5-7-5-7-7. However, in English many writers of tanka use fewer than 31 syllables and don’t rigidly follow the line length pattern. In other words, don’t have a nervous breakdown if the syllable count doesn’t match the pattern described above. Simply put: chill out!
Recently I’ve been in love with a small anthology of tanka, entitled The Tanka Anthology edited by Michael McClintock, Pamela Miller Ness & Jim Kacain. The book is published by Red Moon Press.
As the introduction states, “In these poems, we may learn to pay attention in a different way, and receive our news of the world with unexpected delight.” For those who wish to delve deeper into the structure and craft of making tanka poems, the introduction offers a decent amount of detail. For me, the proof is in the poetry.
Here are few samples of some of my favorites:
my friends tell me
that they are breaking up
I stand at the sink
--rinse the cloudy rice over
and over again.
--Margaret Chula
this morning
the cold of your absence
a presence now
shall I dress it like scarecrows
standing in an empty field
--Marjorie Buettner
On the night train
through that foreign land
I waver once
glimpsing
a lit farm kitchen
--Marianne Bluger
Lit every night
the screened porch
remains unoccupied.
A stage prepared for actors.
The script in development.
--Keith Badowski
P.S. I’m not really included in the anthology, but I thought I’d slip in a tanka of my own just for the heck of it.
Even if you have heard of “tanka,” you might not know that they are five line poems that are similar to haiku in that they conjure succinct moments with a bare minimum of words.
Those who are fond of rules might ask about the syllable count for such poems. In answer, I must first caution you that tanka is a Japanese form; so we’re talking quite a big language difference here between English and Japanese. For hardcore rule followers, let’s say 31 syllables per tanka with the lines divided into five syllabic units: 5-7-5-7-7. However, in English many writers of tanka use fewer than 31 syllables and don’t rigidly follow the line length pattern. In other words, don’t have a nervous breakdown if the syllable count doesn’t match the pattern described above. Simply put: chill out!
Recently I’ve been in love with a small anthology of tanka, entitled The Tanka Anthology edited by Michael McClintock, Pamela Miller Ness & Jim Kacain. The book is published by Red Moon Press.
As the introduction states, “In these poems, we may learn to pay attention in a different way, and receive our news of the world with unexpected delight.” For those who wish to delve deeper into the structure and craft of making tanka poems, the introduction offers a decent amount of detail. For me, the proof is in the poetry.
Here are few samples of some of my favorites:
my friends tell me
that they are breaking up
I stand at the sink
--rinse the cloudy rice over
and over again.
--Margaret Chula
this morning
the cold of your absence
a presence now
shall I dress it like scarecrows
standing in an empty field
--Marjorie Buettner
On the night train
through that foreign land
I waver once
glimpsing
a lit farm kitchen
--Marianne Bluger
Lit every night
the screened porch
remains unoccupied.
A stage prepared for actors.
The script in development.
--Keith Badowski
P.S. I’m not really included in the anthology, but I thought I’d slip in a tanka of my own just for the heck of it.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Special Saturday Spontaneous Poem
Friday, May 16, 2008
Friday Spontaneous Poem
Normally I will post the Friday Spontaneous Poem as a scan of my handwritten 1st draft. However, I am on the road today and have no scanner available, so you’ll just have to imagine the handwritten document. And trust me that I’ve not revised this poem.
Today’s assignment came from Linda Ames, who will be the featured poet in June at our Poetry Open Mic in Columbus, GA. Linda wrote:
hmmm… three words.
1. handicap
2. field
3. ancestor
Linda Ames
GPS Newsletter Editor (www.georgiapoetrysociety.org)
CVWC Publicity/Webmaster/Graphic Art (www.chattwriters.org)
www.authorsden.com/lindames
http://lindasphotoart.blogspot.com/
Eskimo Allergies
By the end of the shift, her sneeze was brutal;
   co-workers quit saying God-bless-you!
ignored here excessive mucus like any other
   handicap that might earn a parking badge.
She emerged from the bunker of cubicles at dawn,
   drips splashing on the tarmac of the parking lot
out beside the vibrant field of goldenrod.
   Scrambling in her pocket for a jumble of keys,
she casts her thoughts back before immigration
   when her ancestors chipped holes in ice to fish.
Back then her people were hardy
   in a climate free of pollen and dust-mites.
Driving away she remembers the square
   of frozen white fish in her freezer at home.
Ha-choo! She thinks polar. Ha-choo!
   She could emigrate to blubber, to fur-pelts
to a past when her people were hardy.
Note: I did receive one other assignment from my friend Brad Tree. I will write a spontaneous poem for him today and post in a special Saturday Spontaneous Poetry blog entry.
Today’s assignment came from Linda Ames, who will be the featured poet in June at our Poetry Open Mic in Columbus, GA. Linda wrote:
hmmm… three words.
1. handicap
2. field
3. ancestor
Linda Ames
GPS Newsletter Editor (www.georgiapoetrysociety.org)
CVWC Publicity/Webmaster/Graphic Art (www.chattwriters.org)
www.authorsden.com/lindames
http://lindasphotoart.blogspot.com/
Eskimo Allergies
By the end of the shift, her sneeze was brutal;
   co-workers quit saying God-bless-you!
ignored here excessive mucus like any other
   handicap that might earn a parking badge.
She emerged from the bunker of cubicles at dawn,
   drips splashing on the tarmac of the parking lot
out beside the vibrant field of goldenrod.
   Scrambling in her pocket for a jumble of keys,
she casts her thoughts back before immigration
   when her ancestors chipped holes in ice to fish.
Back then her people were hardy
   in a climate free of pollen and dust-mites.
Driving away she remembers the square
   of frozen white fish in her freezer at home.
Ha-choo! She thinks polar. Ha-choo!
   She could emigrate to blubber, to fur-pelts
to a past when her people were hardy.
Note: I did receive one other assignment from my friend Brad Tree. I will write a spontaneous poem for him today and post in a special Saturday Spontaneous Poetry blog entry.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Writing Toolbox: Spring Boards
Ever since I was introduced to the concept of freewriting, early in my undergrad college days, I have been a big believer in keeping loose, especially in the early drafts of any piece of writing. In the last few years, I have found a few specific techniques that help me to keep writing and, in some cases, lead to poems.
One such method has been spring boarding off a line in some other poet’s works. My favorite resource has been Carolyn Forche’s collection The Blue Hour, in particular her poem "On Earth", a forty-six page chant of images and phrases which are alphabetically arranged. I copy a single phrase from the poem on the top of the page in my notebook. Then I free-associate as I write, thinking about what the line evokes for me.
Sometimes I write about memories from my own life. Other times, I imagine a persona who has spoken the Forche line and write a monologue in that voice. I might write down a series of related images or ideas. Occasionally I write down the road of whimsy imagining a surreal universe where anything can happen, as in dreams.
To give you the flavor of Forche’s lines (my favorite prompts), here’s a sample:
as for children, so for the dead
as gloves into a grave
as God withdrawing so as to open an absence
as he appears and reappears in the unknown
as if a flock of geese were following
as if there were no other source of food
as if to say goodbye to his own mind
as if we had only one more hour
as if with the future we could replace the past
as in the childhood of terror and holiness
I have used all the above lines as prompts to keep me writing for hours and hours. Why not give it a try yourself? Even if you use only the 10 lines I have given above and write for only 15 minutes in response to each prompt, you will write blissfully for 2.5 hours.
This strategy for writing typically works best for me if I don’t worry too much about the results. In other words, I don’t start with any expectation of producing a poem. Often I leave whatever writing that results from this in my notebook for a year or more. Then whenever I finally get around to it, I open up my notebook to discover pages and pages of writing that I know I wrote, but I don’t remember actually writing. That is to say, I have given myself enough distance on the writing that it is as if someone else wrote it. At that point, I have the correct perspective to discover whether any of these bursts of freewriting have any potential to become poems. To my delight and surprise, many poems have resulted from this process. Of course, there are also many pages of writing that are hopelessly terrible and deserve only to be burned. But the process must be endured for that wonderful result of a few good poems.
At some point soon, I’ll share some other techniques along these lines.
Oh, and by the way, I am anxiously awaiting your challenges and/or assignments for my Spontaneous Poetry Friday. Please do send me something. I will guarantee use of the first one I receive (and will allow the possibility of using some of the others.)
One such method has been spring boarding off a line in some other poet’s works. My favorite resource has been Carolyn Forche’s collection The Blue Hour, in particular her poem "On Earth", a forty-six page chant of images and phrases which are alphabetically arranged. I copy a single phrase from the poem on the top of the page in my notebook. Then I free-associate as I write, thinking about what the line evokes for me.
Sometimes I write about memories from my own life. Other times, I imagine a persona who has spoken the Forche line and write a monologue in that voice. I might write down a series of related images or ideas. Occasionally I write down the road of whimsy imagining a surreal universe where anything can happen, as in dreams.
To give you the flavor of Forche’s lines (my favorite prompts), here’s a sample:
as for children, so for the dead
as gloves into a grave
as God withdrawing so as to open an absence
as he appears and reappears in the unknown
as if a flock of geese were following
as if there were no other source of food
as if to say goodbye to his own mind
as if we had only one more hour
as if with the future we could replace the past
as in the childhood of terror and holiness
I have used all the above lines as prompts to keep me writing for hours and hours. Why not give it a try yourself? Even if you use only the 10 lines I have given above and write for only 15 minutes in response to each prompt, you will write blissfully for 2.5 hours.
This strategy for writing typically works best for me if I don’t worry too much about the results. In other words, I don’t start with any expectation of producing a poem. Often I leave whatever writing that results from this in my notebook for a year or more. Then whenever I finally get around to it, I open up my notebook to discover pages and pages of writing that I know I wrote, but I don’t remember actually writing. That is to say, I have given myself enough distance on the writing that it is as if someone else wrote it. At that point, I have the correct perspective to discover whether any of these bursts of freewriting have any potential to become poems. To my delight and surprise, many poems have resulted from this process. Of course, there are also many pages of writing that are hopelessly terrible and deserve only to be burned. But the process must be endured for that wonderful result of a few good poems.
At some point soon, I’ll share some other techniques along these lines.
Oh, and by the way, I am anxiously awaiting your challenges and/or assignments for my Spontaneous Poetry Friday. Please do send me something. I will guarantee use of the first one I receive (and will allow the possibility of using some of the others.)
Labels:
Carolyn Forche,
freewriting,
poetry,
prompts,
writing
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Dream: My Lost Papers
Last night I dreamed of walking in a museum in Birmingham. The exhibit theme was “letters, notes, and scraps of paper found in circulated library books.” The display items, various slips of paper, were placed in rows and rows of cubbyhole boxes which were open for anyone to reach inside. I picked up several pieces of paper and skimmed the writing there. I was strangely pleased that four of the items I picked up were in my own loose handwriting from different eras of my life. Among my lost papers were poems partially written, notes written to pass among friends in grade school, letters I’d folded and attempted to preserve with Scotch tape plastered to the creases, research notes from reference books, and grocery/to do lists. I experienced a sense of pride at finding my own writing displayed among this collection, as if my writings were as important as the manuscripts of John Lennon, T.S. Eliot, or Jerry Seinfeld. Perhaps this dream originated from my recent experiences at the Emory University research library where they have in their collections significant batches of manuscripts by such poetic greats as Ted Hughes and Seamus Heaney. Also my parents who are preparing to sell their house in New York called me the other day to tell me that they found boxes I’d stashed away in the attic. Among the items they found were my high school yearbooks (which I’d given up for lost), Star Wars action figures, and my set of Hardy Boys books.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Spontaneous Poetry
“Do not feel left out when your school, church, Zen center, daycare center has a bazaar, carnival, rummage sale. Don’t think you have nothing to contribute. Simply set up a spontaneous writing booth. All you need is a pile of blank paper, some fast-writing pens, a table, a chair, and a sign saying, ‘Poems on Demand’ or ‘Poems in the Moment’ or ‘You name the subject, I’ll write on it.’”
“You must be fearless and willing to lose everything at any moment. With the writing booth there is the opportunity to be a great warrior: you must let go of everything as you write and then in handing it over to the customer.”
Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones (1986)
While an undergraduate student in English at S.U.N.Y. New Paltz (1987-1991), I had the thrill of being excessively involved in the English Club and the literary mag they produced, The Accordion Flyer. (I’m reading an issue of Accordion Flyer in the picture.) When I arrived at New Paltz, current English Club President was Gail Vorbach. Gail had read Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones and suggested we set up a writing booth in the Student Center and offer Spontaneous Poetry for 25 cents a pop. Several folks participated in the writing end of things, and numerous customers plucked down their quarter for a poem. We kept no copies of our poems, just gave them over to the customers. It was a freeing experience, and a rare writing experience for me—as I always revise my writing (sometimes as much as fifty rewrites!)
So I’m feeling nostalgic. Here’s the concept. Each Friday (or at least once a week) I’m going to write a Spontaneous Poem for this blog. I will post it as a scan of the handwritten page. The poem will never be revised further. And I am inviting my readers and friends to command the assignment. Give me a topic or challenge. Anything goes. Email your assignment to me any time between Wednesday and Friday. I might do more than one per week if I have time. But I’ll start with the first one that arrives that week. I don’t want to have much time to think about the assignment, so don’t send it earlier than Wednesday. Any questions? Email me at thebeardedpoet at hot mail dot com!
For today’s Spontaneous Poem, I simply randomly selected three words from my word envelopes (one noun, one verb, one adjective).
Swipe Judicious Violet

I give this poem away! If any of you finds anything of interest here, feel free to take it, claim it as your own. Also feel free to steal the idea of Spontaneous Poetry. I hope to see your booth at the next craft fair!
Thursday, May 08, 2008
How the Dwarves of Yore Rang My Bell By Keith Badowski

This article originally appeared in the Georgia Poetry Society newsletter, December 2007.
I suppose every poet can point to a few formative experiences with poetic works that inspired attentiveness to poetry and stirred up the desire to make more poetry. In my case, the earliest poem imprinted on my consciousness was J.R.R. Tolkien’s song/ballad that begins “Far over the Misty Mountains cold” from The Hobbit.
The primary means of transmission was the animated version of The Hobbit which aired on television in 1977—when I was nine years old. In heavy rotation on my turntable was the vinyl record album of the soundtrack, and to this day, I can still hear the dwarves singing their history for Bilbo Baggins:
Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
I’m sure, at the time, I thought of this poem mainly as a song, one I could sing along with as I memorized the entire soundtrack through repeated listening. The other thing that the animated show inspired in me back then was an interest in writing and reading. As I realized that The Hobbit was based on Tolkien’s book, I wanted to read it and Tolkien’s other books—The Lord of the Rings series. Also I began to have the desire to make books, after Tolkien’s model. My earliest writing attempts were fantasy stories, featuring far off lands, sword-wielding heroes, and strange monsters.
I became more aware of Tolkien as a poet while studying a unit on Poetry in middle school. When asked to memorize a poem to recite in class, I chose “Over the Misty Mountains”, probably because it was still rattling around in my head from my earlier overdose.
While Tolkien’s song did not immediately inspire me to write poetry, it has had a lingering influence on poetry writing—which began in earnest during high school. My very first published poems appeared in the high school literary magazine, Everness, in 1984, including a fantasy adventure ballad, entitled “The Ivory Bear”, loosely modeled on the style of Tolkien’s “Over the Misty Mountains”.
Hither came he to the Mount of Fate;
He came with a purpose from the Land of Hate.
The tale he had heard had brought him there;
The tale he had heard of an ivory bear.
The bear of gems and ivory forged
Placed on an altar with gold they gorged.
His plan was such to claim it all
For the race who had made it had taken a fall.
Yes, I admit it’s not very good, but I think the influence is obvious. I remember having so much fun writing it too, with all those rhyming couplets.
In college English Lit classes, I was exposed to Tolkien’s influences, Anglo Saxon poetic narratives, such as Beowulf, and Middle English alliterative poems, such as Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Tolkien’s use of alliteration sank very, very deep hooks into my poetic tastes. How I still adore the sounds of phrases such as “Misty Mountains”, “dungeons deep”, and “hollow halls”.
To this day my own poems often slip into alliterative phrases. I must go back through in the revision process to cut some of these, because otherwise an excess of alliteration would give a funny, archaic feel to what I’d prefer to be contemporary sounding poems. Yet I never cut the alliteration entirely, because those sounds are what first won me over to poetry. For me that stylistic tool still contains a bit of magic.
It’s not only fun to reminisce about a formative poetry-related experience; it’s also informative to your current writing to be aware of it. Perhaps by looking back at influential poems you can become more conscious about the stylistic and thematic choices you now make as a poet. Try to identify and revisit the poems that made the earliest imprint on you. You might just rediscover a “mighty spell”.
Keith Badowski is employed by a Methodist church in Phenix City, AL. His poems have appeared sporadically over the years in publications such as Oxalis, Monkey, and Rambunctious Review. To learn just how big a geek he is, visit his blog, entitled “There Goes the Top of My Head” which is found at http://keithbadowski.blogspot.com/
Labels:
alliteration,
J.R.R. Tolkien,
poems,
poetry,
poets,
writing
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Star Trek (TOS) Book Review: Heart of the Sun (1997) by Pamela Sargent and George Zebrowski

Heart of the Sun is a Star Trek novel that takes place during Kirk, Spock, and McCoy’s initial five year mission with the Enterprise. The main theme here is isolationism as a societal principal with two cultures as examples. The first is a human colony that wishes non-interference from the Federation. The other is an alien race that has sealed itself in its own virtual reality and wants nothing whatsoever to do with the real universe outside.
The characterization for Spock and McCoy is spot on. However, Kirk seems not entirely himself. The captain is cast in a diplomatic role here and not allowed to be his usual ladies man. Still his command decisions are at times bold as in “boldly going.” I just got the sense that Kirk was far too concerned with the threats of consequences should this mission not wrap up smoothly.
I was pleased to see that the solution for the alien encounter involved the friendship dynamic of the main three, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. Star Trek’s primary pleasure for me is the chemistry between these characters, thus I particularly love it when the friendship of this trio is shown as vital to plot.
Probably my biggest complaint in this novel was that throughout the middle, as they are investigate the alien mobile and attempt to divert it from its course toward Tyrtaeus II’s sun, there’s an awful lot of repetition. Over and over the crew try to shift the mobile’s orbit, but time and time again the mobile readjusts it’s course toward the sun. Repeatedly Kirk and Scotty discuss the risks of being unable to retrieve Spock, once he boards the mobile. And numerous times these same worries are described as the thoughts of Kirk or McCoy. Apparently the authors were trying to create tension by stressing these problems. However, the effect on me was tedium. I found myself beginning to skim, reading the dialogue only to follow the story to its end.
So while the prose and dialogue of Heart of the Sun were skillfully written, the slow pace of the action and the repeated worries bogged down the enjoyment factor. As “The Original Series” books go, I’d characterize this one as “Good” but not “Great.”
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Looking for Poets and Poetry Junkies In the Columbus, GA and Phenix City, AL Areas

Press Release Brick Road Poetry Posse May 6, 2008
Event Name: Poetry Workshop
Description: Poets from Phenix City and Columbus are invited to a poetry writing workshop. There is no cost for this event. Dessert and coffee are provided. Participants give each other feedback on their poems with the goal of improving them. The workshop is led by published poets. All styles of poetry are welcome. Please bring copies of your poem to share. We meet every 3rd Thursday of the month.
Sponsor: Brick Road Poetry Posse www.myspace.com/columbuspoets
Time: 7 pm
Date: Thursday, May 15th, June 19th, July 17th, August 21st --Meets every 3rd Thursday
Location: 513 Broadway Columbus, GA (in the Historic District)
Cost: Free
Call for Info: Ron Self, at (706) 221-4370
-----------------------------------
Event Name: Open Mic Poetry Reading
Description: Come read aloud your own poems or poems by your favorite poet. There is usually a featured poet.
Sponsor: Brick Road Poetry Posse www.myspace.com/columbuspoets
Time: 7 pm
Date: Thursday, June 5th, July 3rd, August 7th, Sept. 4th (meets every 1st Thursday of the month)
Location: Columbus Public Library 3000 Macon Road Columbus, Georgia 31906 in one of the meeting rooms near the auditorium
Cost: Free
Call for Info: Keith Badowski (334) 448-4715
Labels:
Columbus GA,
Phenix City AL,
Poem,
poetry,
poets,
readings,
workshops
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Retro Review: "It Didn't Happen" (1963) by Fredric Brown

On the treadmill this morning I read a story from the collection The Best of Fredric Brown, edited by Robert Bloch. Brown’s stories appeared from the 1940’s thru the 60’s in such publications at The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Weird Tales, GALAXY magazine, and Playboy. “It Didn’t Happen,” the story I consumed this morning, originally appeared in Playboy, October 1963—which perhaps explains perhaps the opening scene set in a strip-joint. A stripper, Queenie Quinn, is murdered by Lorenz Kane because she violently objects to his solicitous approaches. Lorenz is quickly arrested and held for the murder, after all there are witnesses that place him at the joint that evening, including the security guard who admitted him backstage. The gun is found in Lorenz’s possession and the slugs match. An open and shut case. But not so fast. Lorenz tells his lawyer a story of strange perception. His story turns into a treatise on Ontology and solipsism. He claims to have had several odd experiences which convinced him that he was real, while many of the other people he encountered in the world were not. Lorenz doesn’t claim to be the only real person, with the world being his own imaginary creation; he thinks that there are an unknown number of real people sharing the world with those who are imagined constructs. I’ll not reveal the conclusion to the story, but suffice it to say there’s a twist and it wraps up quickly. Most of the tale is told in passable dialogue. As with most stories of this length, there’s not enough space for deep character development. Really the main draw here is the eerie concept. Mainly Fredric Brown is drawing on that old perception of how does one know what is real and what is only one’s perception or imagination. How can anyone prove that life is nothing more than a dream? I found the story to be a fun, quick read in the vein of a Twilight Zone episode.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Audio Anthology: Two Poems by Michael Meyerhofer
DOWNLOAD MP3 of Keith reading a poem
DOWNLOAD MP3 of Keith reading a poem
If you have Quick Time, the track will automatically play in it's entirety when you click on it.You can get Quick Time here.
Your other option is to right click on the link, select "Save Target As", and Browse to the location on your hard drive where you want to save the MP3 file.
In that case, you'll need to open the file in Windows Media Player or some other media program that handles MP3s.
DOWNLOAD MP3 of Keith reading a poem
If you have Quick Time, the track will automatically play in it's entirety when you click on it.You can get Quick Time here.
Your other option is to right click on the link, select "Save Target As", and Browse to the location on your hard drive where you want to save the MP3 file.
In that case, you'll need to open the file in Windows Media Player or some other media program that handles MP3s.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Video Anthology: Ken Babstock Poem Read by Keith Badowski
Here's my first poetry video. It's also the first video I've ever posted on YouTube. Take a look, and let me know what you think!
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Audio Anthology: A Poem by Ken Babstock
DOWNLOAD MP3 of Keith reading a poem
If you have Quick Time, the track will automatically play in it's entirety when you click on it.You can get Quick Time here.
Your other option is to right click on the link, select "Save Target As", and Browse to the location on your hard drive where you want to save the MP3 file.
In that case, you'll need to open the file in Windows Media Player or some other media program that handles MP3s.
OR
For a quick 30 sec sample of the poem, click the player below.
If you have Quick Time, the track will automatically play in it's entirety when you click on it.You can get Quick Time here.
Your other option is to right click on the link, select "Save Target As", and Browse to the location on your hard drive where you want to save the MP3 file.
In that case, you'll need to open the file in Windows Media Player or some other media program that handles MP3s.
OR
For a quick 30 sec sample of the poem, click the player below.
Friday, April 25, 2008
In Progress: Most Interesting Movies of the 1990s

This is a list that will be refined, edited, expanded, and elaborated later. But so far, here's my starting point. In other words, this is a work in progress:
Goodfellas (1990) Directed by Martin Scorsese. With Robert De Niro, Ray Liotta, Joe Pesci
Wild at Heart (1990) Directed by David Lynch With Nicolas Cage, Laura Dern, Marietta Fortune, Willem Dafoe
The Fisher King - (1991) Directed by Terry Gilliam With Jeff Bridges, Robin Williams
Gattaca (1997) Directed by Andrew Niccol With Ethan Hawke, Uma Thurman and Jude Law
Shadowlands (1993) Directed by Richard Attenborough With Anthony Hopkins, Debra Winger, Edward Hardwicke
Pulp Fiction - (1994) Directed by Quentin Tarantino With John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson
Forrest Gump - (1994) Directed by Robert Zemmeckis With Tom Hanks, Gary Sinese
Sling Blade - (1996) Directed by Billy Bob Thornton With Billy Bob Thornton, J.T. Walsh, John Ritter
The Sixth Sense - (1999) Directed by M. Night Shyamalan With Bruce Willis, Haley Joel Osment
The Matrix - (1999) Andy & Larry Wachowski With Keanu Reeves, Laurence Fishburne
Stay tuned for the next iteration.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Retro Movie Review: Stage Door Canteen (1943)

Stage Door Canteen (1943) is patriotic propaganda from an age when that was the glorious norm. Watching this today makes one long for days of innocence, when even warfare could seem noble and positive. Since I hate warfare and the fact that our country seems so good at getting embroiled in so many wars, it’s an odd feeling to long for such a thing—but there it is. The entertainment is a who’s who of the WW II era. I wished Harpo's appearance included some harp playing--he was run off too soon. Loved seeing an extended segment with Edgar Bergen / Charlie McCarthy / Mortimer Snerd! Edgar Bergen was soooo young and quite the brilliant comedian/ performer. Ray Bolger, the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, also provides a wonderful moment of tap dancing and army-themed comedy. The music is amazing, and the romance stories are engaging and at times bittersweet. Really what you get here is an entertainment variety show with a loose framing narrative, giving you the feel of a few evenings in a USO canteen. The movie also reminds us of our positive attitudes toward Russians and Chinese allies at this point in our history.
For more on Stage Door Canteen, I have stolen the following text for your reading pleasure:

Stage Door Canteen (1943), directed by Frank Borzage (A Farewell to Arms) in support of the war effort, prefigures Anchors Aweigh and On the Town in depicting the lives of servicemen on leave in the big city. Countless British and American celebrities put in an appearance--everyone from Dame Judith Anderson to Katharine Hepburn, Count Basie to Benny Goodman. The story concerns three soldiers and the female volunteers they fall for at the canteen of the title--a real-life Manhattan nightspot--before shipping out for points unknown. While the largely unknown principals (Cheryl Walker, William Terry, etc.) handle the drama and romance, bigger stars like Harpo Marx and Tallulah Bankhead take care of the comedy and scene-stealing supporting bits. This historical document was most commonly shown in an edited-for-TV 93-minute version but is now available again in its original--more entertaining--132-minute length. --Kathleen C. Fennessy
Director: Frank Borzage
MPAA: Unrated
Running Time: 135 min.
Release Date: Jan 01, 1943
Cast: Edgar Bergen, Ethel Edgar Bergen, Ethel Merman, George Jessel, Gracie Fields, Gypsy Rose Lee, Harpo Marx, Helen Hayes, Hugh Herbert, Ina Claire, Jean Hersholt, Judith Anderson, Katharine Hepburn, Kenny Baker, Lynn Fontanne, Ralph Bellamy, Ray Bolger, Tallulah Bankhead
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Retro Review: Farewell My Lovely (1940) by Raymond Chandler

Finished reading Farewell, My Lovely aloud to Christi. Overall, we enjoyed it. However, there were some aspects we were disappointed by. Of course, with Chandler you never expect a logical plot. In the case here, it seemed as if Marlowe was jumping from one thing to the next without any logic. However, Chandler is quite talented at vividly creating a scene--even if how we got to the scene makes no sense. As I understand it, Chandler improvised his stories and did not plot them out in advance. It shows here. The sentences are wonderful to marvel at and wonderful to read aloud.
"She gave me a smile I could feel in my hip pocket"--Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 18)
"I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat and a gun." Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 34)
""She's a charming middle age lady with a face like a bucket of mud and if she's washed her hair since Coolidge's second term, I'll eat my spare tire, rim and all." " -- Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 6)
"Even on Central Avenue, not the quietest dressed street in the world, he looked about as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food."--Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 1)
"I walked back through the arch and started up the steps. It was a nice walk if you liked grunting. There were two hundred and eighty steps up to Cabrillo Street. They were drifted over with windblown sand and the handrail was as cold and wet as a toad's belly."--Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 8)
"The voice got as cool as a cafeteria dinner."--Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 15)
"She was as cute as a washtub." -- Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 5)
"The house itself was not so much. It was smaller than Buckingham Palace, rather gray for California, and probably had fewer windows than the Chrysler Building. I sneaked over to the side entrance and pressed a bell and somewhere a set of chimes made a deep mellow sound like church bells. A man in a striped vest and gilt buttons opened the door, bowed, took my hat and was through for the day."-- Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 18)
"I sat beside her on the yellow leather chesterfield. 'Aren't you a pretty fast worker?' she asked quietly. I didn't answer her.
'Do you do much of this sort of thing?' she asked with a sidelong look.
'Practically none. I'm a Tibetan monk, in my spare time.'
'Only you don't have any spare time.'""--Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 18)
"It was a blonde. A blonde to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window."--Farewell, My Lovely (Chapter 13)
Yet if you easily get bored with excessive description, you might want to take a pass on this one. It seemed at times as if I was reading for hours before I got to any dialogue. All in all, the book was enjoyable but not my favorite Chandler. I'd have to say The Big Sleep remains my personal favorite, with The Long Goodbye being second--mainly for its poetic prose.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Review: Papa Hemingway by A.E. Hotchner
In Papa Hemingway (1966), Hotchner emulates Hemingway's clear reportage as he covers his years (1948-61) as Hemingway's buddy. He reveals all of Hemingway's quirks and thus gives us a taste of what it might have been like to know the guy if you hung out with in him in cars, bars, restaurants, and at bullfights. Seems Hemingway could hold crowds spellbound with his stories, both oral and written. Until his health went south, the man could hold his liquor too. I particularly loved the stories of Hemingway communicating with bears, and the story of how Hemingway became a Catholic—after answered prayer for a sexual dysfunction. Also I found it interesting to learn about Hemingway’s close friendship with Gary Cooper. He did everything with gusto until he couldn’t anymore. This book shows that Hemingway might have written more (and even better) had he not become a celebrity. Much of the later half of his life was spent fending off reporters and guests. Not many had the sense of courtesy to stay away when asked to do so. Hotchner reveals to us the painful last days as well. Hemingway, being as resourceful and forceful as he was by nature, was extra tough to handle with his paranoia and suicidal tendencies. The man tried to off himself by jumping out of an airplane in mid-flight. All in all, I was fascinated by this insider's view on the writer's life. Made me feel like I knew Papa Hemingway in the flesh.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Where’s The Spinach?!

My favorite childhood cartoon was Popeye the Sailor. Part superhero, part crusty old sailor, part leading man, Popeye had it all. I loved his muttering voice, choc-full of hilarious comments of genuine surprise at the world around him and how other people behaved: “Blow me down!” It was awesome to see him suck down that spinach and instantly embody the power of a torpedo, a hammer, a generator, a tank. Loved the songs he would sing, “I Yam What I Yam and that’s all that I Yam, I’m Popeye the Sailor man! Toot! Toot!” (Technically the “Toot! Toot!” is the sound of him blowing his pipe, but oh, well.) Sure there were moments when I wondered what ol Popeye saw in that shrill-voiced, skinny minnie Olive Oyle. It could be grating to listen to her screaming for rescue from Bluto or the Sea Hag or whatever else. But she usually ended up being sweetly affectionate to Popeye in the end. He deserved some TLC after all those mighty Labors. The world of Popeye was filled with danger, excitement, romance, comedy, and thrills, and I for one loved tagging along with that squint eyed, distorted mouth, baldy of a sailor with the balloon forearms. What a mutant! What a hero! Where’s the spinach?!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Review: Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt by Anne Rice

This novel opens on the life of Jesus at seven years old. Perhaps because the story deals the most uneventful part of Jesus’ life, it drags a bit. However, Rice expertly develops Jesus’ immediate and extended family. His uncle Cleopas stands out as an important mentor for Jesus. In fact, Rice puts several of Jesus’ later lessons in the mouth of Cleopas first. Cleopas comments on the greed of money changers and he also expresses indifference toward Caesar’s rule (not threatened by nor devoted towards Roman rule). Jesus’ brother James is also nicely developed in his envy toward his brother being the Savior. James’ repentance and sacrifice for forgiveness provides a powerful window on the Jewish traditions of the temple. Rice attempts to generate suspense through the novel by having Jesus seek after the details of his birth. His family, in their attempts to protect him, does not want to discuss supernatural aspects of his birth, nor the tragic massacre that followed. Since most Christian readers will already know the Christmas story, the slow reveal doesn’t create the kind of tension it might for those who have previously avoided the Christian faith. Overall, I found the book quite interesting to skim quickly, but wasn’t as sucked into each passage as I would have liked. The last 25 -30 pages were emotionally riveting, so I do recommend slowing down and savoring at that point.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Bob Dylan on "Melting Metal"

Bob Dylan (commenting on working with producer Daniel Lanois on Oh Mercy): "I know that he wanted to understand me more as we went along, but you can’t do that, not unless you like to do puzzles. I think in the end, he gave up on that. A lot of the songs held up in a grand way and more than a few of them I’ve played plenty of times. I would have liked to been able to give him the kinds of songs that he wanted, like 'Masters of War,' 'Hard Rain,' 'Gates of Eden,' but those kinds of songs were written under different circumstances, and circumstances never repeat themselves. Not exactly. I couldn’t get to those kinds of songs for him or anyone else. To do it, you’ve got to have power and dominion over the spirits. I had done it once, and once was enough. Someone would come along eventually who would have it again—someone who could see into things, the truth of things—not metaphorically, either—but really see, like seeing into metal and making it melt, see it for what it was and reveal it for what it was with hard words and vicious insight.” (Bob Dylan, Chronicles: Volume One, p. 218-219)
Monday, April 14, 2008
Review: Measle and the Wrathmonk by Ian Ogilvy
What more could you want from a children's adventure story? This one has got a creepy villain, a lurking creature, another disgusting creature (giant cockroach), magic that shrinks the main hero down to the size of an action figure, and the well orchestrated setting of a toy train display. The supporting characters are clearly designed to play their role in the plot, assisting Measle with each of the tasks to defeat the villain. And the happy ending is about a calculated as could be. However, the overall read is tense and action filled with light humor thrown in along the way to keep it fun. This is not one of those children’s books that I would recommend to adults too, because it is a bit spare and really only trying to present an adventure for kids. Still I enjoyed it for what it is. No complaints.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Broadcast of Poetry Reading
I read at a poetry reading last night which got broadcast on the internet. Starting this morning the video is available for viewing at this link: Columus Urban Connection Click "Live Broadcasting/ Recorded Shows" and then use the "Next >" button under "Past Shows" to find "Open Mic Night at the Columbus Public Library!".
I read two poems near the beginning of the event. Actually I'm the third reader.
The featured poet, Doraine Bennett, was wonderful. I do recommend that you listen to her read. After her, there is a bit of comic relief. One person sang a very nice song a cappella too.
Thought you might be interested in viewing it.
Warning: Turn down your volume a bit when I'm reading--I like to project.
I read two poems near the beginning of the event. Actually I'm the third reader.
The featured poet, Doraine Bennett, was wonderful. I do recommend that you listen to her read. After her, there is a bit of comic relief. One person sang a very nice song a cappella too.
Thought you might be interested in viewing it.
Warning: Turn down your volume a bit when I'm reading--I like to project.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Now & Then by Robert B. Parker
The 35th Spenser novel, Now & Then, includes all the usual banter. Spenser irritates strangers by cracking wise, while at the same time entertaining this long time reader. I’ll admit it; I am still amused by Spenser’s sarcastic wit, even though the jokes have been the same ones for decades. However, this time round, the plot was about the thinnest it’s ever been. So was Spenser’s motive for working another no-pay case.
Over and over Susan and Hawk theorize that Spenser is still working through the trauma of Susan leaving him back in A Catskill Eagle in 1985. 1985!!! They seem to think that Spenser identifies with the client/victim whose wife was cheating on him. Oddly, no one ever mentions Spenser’s affair with Candy Sloan in A Savage Place, 1981. Somehow Spenser’s one night stand didn’t count! My biggest beef though is that the motive for solving the case is hardly that important in Spenser anymore. He solves things! It’s his nature. That’s it. Why did Parker see the need to dredge up Spenser and Susan’s past over and over again? It wasn’t believable after all this time, and the repeated mention of it seemed so forced.
But what do you expect from Robert B. Parker these days? It has been literarily decades since Spenser novels were written at near literary level. To be an ongoing Spenser fan, one must accept Spenser as a cartoon or caricature of his earlier self. To my mind, A Catskill Eagle was the cut-off point for the real, authentic Spenser. Since then Parker has been writing light-weight novels that are heavy on wit, with rare, extremely rare moments of depth.
Having recently re-read Walking Shadow, I can tell you that Now & Then is even fluffier than that one. Walking Shadow included one passage that I thought was so eloquent I got chills reading it aloud. There’s nothing that good here.
Yet, I can honestly say I enjoyed Now & Then. Spenser’s dialogue still makes me laugh. I enjoyed the heck out of reading this one aloud to Christi, doing the deep bass voice for Hawk, the Speedy Gonzales voice of Chollo, and my best Joe Pesci for Vinnie. Yes, Spenser yet again has surrounded himself with the "Thug Brigade".
That relates to the one last thing I want to mention. The moral complexity of the early Spenser novels is long, long gone. Spenser has become so accustomed to using Hawk and the other thugs for muscle that the dividing line between criminal violence and heroism barely exists anymore. Sure the overall quantity of violence has dropped as the series has gone on, but there are six killings under Spenser’s watch in this one. Four of the killings occur during a set-up that Spenser has orchestrated. Long gone are the days of remorse over the taking of life, even the life of a criminal or a killer. Spenser has developed a thick skin about such killing. I’m sad to see his remorse go.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
The Viking Funeral by Stephen J. Cannell
I don’t wish to spill much ink on this novel, The Viking Funeral by Stephen J. Cannell. Suffice it to say, my comment to Christi, as I finished reading this one aloud to her, was, “Thank God that trudge through Hell is over!”
It’s not a badly written book. The problem is the agonizing situation of the main character, Shane Scully of the LAPD. He gets himself entrenched with a band of cops turned criminals. One of the bad cops is Shane’s friend since childhood, Jody. And, Jody, well, he is by no means faking his bad-ass demeanor. Whew, I’ll spare you the details of the slaughter in the final 50 pages of the book.
Not to mention the excessive use of obscenities.
Not to mention how Shane scrapes through with only a few minor injuries after about 100 attempts on his life. (Gosh, do I hate convenient near misses! What is this? An episode of the A-Team?!)
For much of the novel, Shane is depressed. He believes that he has killed the love of his life. He is witnessing first hand the depths of corruption of his former best friend. He must act the part of a criminal to maintain his cover. The whole crew is wasted on drugs, and most of them would sooner kill Shane then let him in on their deal, as Jody has agreed. Three-quarters of the way through the novel, Shane decides to commit suicide. I could sympathize. Reading about his plight was getting me very depressed as well.
You might ask why we persisted in reading something so dark and depressing. Well, my take was that the first book in the Scully series, The Tin Collectors, was nearly as good as any Michael Connelly novel. I kept hoping that this second in the series would make a turn and start to charm me again as did the earlier one. It did not happen.
Really I can only recommend this book to someone who felt that She’s Come Undone was the feel-good novel of the 1990s. (For me, personally, that was the bleakest novel ever written.) You have to be a glutton for punishment to enjoy The Viking Funeral.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Spock Must Die! by James Blish

Modifications to the transporter using tachyons, the creation of a mirror-image replicate of Spock, a mysterious screen surrounding the planet Organia, a Klingon invasion force, and confusing instances of perception distortion and manipulation—these are some of the ingredients in James Blish’s 1970 Star Trek novel, Spock Must Die! (Another Star Trek novel title with an exclamation point at the end of it! And probably one of the worst titles on any Star Trek novel, too.)
This is in fact the first ever original Star Trek novel written for adults. As such, it’s quite remarkable for its high quality level and for it’s accuracy in portraying the main Trek players: Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. Much of the action in the storyline is initially generated by McCoy’s philosophical musings on the Transporter system. The good doctor, famous for his agitation at having his atoms scattered, wonders aloud whether he still has a soul after the Transporter process is through with him. Scotty is inspired by McCoy’s question to experiment with tachyons, proposing to create a tachyon based replication of a human being that can be transported much greater distances than normal Transporter function. When Klingon attack-posturing and loss of contact with the Organia peace-keepers calls for the need of a spy, Spock volunteers to be the guinea pig for Scotty’s tachyon-replication process. A temporary Spock duplicate will be transported to Organia to view circumstances there and report back. However, instead a mirror reflection replicate of Spock instantaneously appears, leaving the Enterprise crew with the mystery of trying to figure out which one is the original Mr. Spock.
Yes, there sure are similarities between this story and the Start Trek episode “The Enemy Within” where two versions of Kirk are created, one good and one evil. Oddly, Blish never makes reference to this earlier situation. And the Spock duplication is different in that one Spock is entirely the real, original Spock. The replicate is his mirror image, including the area of personality. There is no goal of merging the two back together, as was the case with Kirk—only determination of who is the replicate so he may be destroyed. As it turns out the replicate is treacherous and a real threat, as he has allied with the Klingons.
Before the difference between the two Spocks is uncovered, there are brief hints at the philosophical problem of what to do with two beings who are exactly the same. If a difference were not uncovered, who would get to remain serving as Science Officer aboard the Enterprise? What would happen to the other equally qualified Spock? What course of action could possibly be fair? Would Spock suffer from psychiatric trauma from instantaneously being a twin? These are all great questions, but they are never dealt with because the duplicate is not an exact copy after all. The ideas introduced here are expanded upon and explored more fully in the Phoenix Trek novels by Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath. Similairly, as in the later Marshak and Culbreath novels, there is a psychic link of sorts between original and duplicate.
I loved most of this novel, especially all the interactions between Kirk, Spock One, and Spock Two. It was fascinating to observe the process of trying to determine who was the real Spock.. Which behaviors are un-Spock-like?
Blish provides excellent scientific rationales and explanations—much better than most television inspired sci fi. Ultimately it is McCoy who figures out the litmus test for authenticity. The replicate is unable to eat normal food. Even on the molecular level, he is the reverse image of Spock.. In addition even his thought waves are reversed, as observed by the Organians and Mr. Spock.
I found Blish’s dialogue for Scotty to be a fairly elaborate depiction of a Scottish brogue. Apparently Blish took greater pains to be accurate with brogue than even James Doohan. Thankfully though, most Trek novelists emulate Doohan and keep it simple.
The climax and conclusion of the novel seemed slightly rushed, but perhaps that is unavoidable since there is not much left to do once the Organians are let loose from under the imprisoning screen. The final result is that the Klingons are grounded for 1000 years, which, of course, is not accepted continuity by any means.
All in all this is an ingenious concept which is told with loving care and authenticity. James Blish knows the Trek characters extremely well and it shows. I highly recommend this sweet, swift read to any fan of original Trek.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Agape for the Camera
Monday, November 26, 2007
Enterprise Marathon and Vulcan! by Kathleen Sky

In the continuing saga of my Star Trek kick . . . I spent “Black Friday” planted in front of the television, watching the Enterprise marathon on Sci Fi. Having never watched Enterprise before, I was intrigued enough to watch about 7 or 8 episodes that day. (Christi could hardly stand the boredom of such a day--and in retrospect, I understand.) However, I came away with no need or desire to watch more. The bottom line is that the characters never appealed me to such a degree that I wanted to follow them longer. In other words, all the characters, even Captain Archer, seemed flat and cardboard-esque. Except for rare instances, the show also seemed devoid of a character-driven sense of humor—which has always been fundamental to Star Trek, as far as I’m concerned.
Really the only thing that held me in place for those hours on Friday was the delight of seeing Original Series aliens, such as Andorians and Orions, given contemporary make-overs and more fleshed out storylines. But it’s not enough pleasure, in my opinion, to invest any more time in. I now understand why Enterprise never caught on with most Star Trek fans.
Along similar lines, I have just finished reading Vulcan! by Kathleen Sky. Originally published in 1978, this was one of the earliest Trek novels. Sky did a great job portraying the characters of McCoy and Spock in this novel. However, Captain Kirk does not come across as accurate to his character. Most of the novel, Kirk is grouchy and irritated, and due to Star Fleet instructions and the threat of a Romulan ship, his hands are tied from any action. Perhaps one could argue that the circumstances are what causes Kirk’s unfamiliar demeanor, but I just felt as though Sky missed the fullness of his character. At one point, Kirk is portrayed as wishing that an antagonistic character, Katalya Tremain, a scientist who hates Vulcans, would be killed on the away team. That is certainly not the Kirk we all know. It’s important to note that Kirk is really a background character in this novel anyway, so the inaccuracies of his portrayal are not make or break for this novel. By the way, the Romulan commander is portrayed as a bit of a coward—at least when it comes to Kirk. Apparently, Captain Kirk has a huge reputation at this point among Romulans as a trickster and dishonorable opponent. Even so, I was surprised to see the Romulan commander to be characterized as so weak and unsure of himself. It did not seem to fit with previous glimpses into Romulan command.
The central figure in the novel Vulcan! really is Katalya Tremain. McCoy spends the first half of the novel attempting to uncover why she hates Vulcans and goes into hysterics at the sight of Spock. (Trust me, Sky gives sufficient reasons for Tremain’s assignment to the Enterprise for this particular mission, despite her apparent bigotry.) The investigation into her psyche is interesting, but not worthy of the 70 pages or so devoted to it. I suspect this short novel (only 175 pages in total) needed some padding to be completed, and it was the front end that got the padding treatment.
The second half of the novel is much more exciting as Spock and Katalya are trapped on the surface of the planet Arachne—alone and surrounded by threatening creatures . . . sort of a cross between giant ants and tarantulas. McCoy’s earlier work with Katalya makes it possible for her to work with Spock, but she still isn’t happy about it. As they struggle to survive on Arachne, there is an opportunity for Spock to uncover what is really behind her displays of hatred toward Vulcans.
Overall, the novel Vulcan! is a swift, pleasure read. The tone and pacing is closely derived from the original Star Trek television series--so I’d recommend this one to anyone looking for a bit of Star Trek nostalgia.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Rowan Atkinson Doctor Who Comic Relief Sketch Part 1
If you are a fan of Doctor Who and/or Rowan Atkinson, ie "Mr. Bean", you ought to check this out. Quite an elaborate spoof!
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Tim Kring Admits Mistakes Were Made

Christi and I are still watching Heroes, despite our complaints and disappointments. Yet I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve said to her, “Didn’t we see this same build-up last season?” or “Why do we have to watch Peter discover his powers all over again?” or “When is Hiro ever going to leave Japan’s feudal past?” It has been painful at times. But obviously I’m an optimist and keep hoping it will get better. A recent article appeared on the net that gives me tons and tons of hope. Tim Kring, creator of Heroes, has publicly apologized for the show’s missteps thus far this season. He promises to turn it around beginning right now. I just hope it’s not too late, given that Heroes ratings have dramatically dropped off this season. And with the writer’s strike there is no telling what might happen. Here’s the link for the Tim Kring article on Entertainment Weekly http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20158840,00.html I can admire anyone who is willing to admit error and make the necessary corrections!
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
New Radiohead Album!

In Rainbows, the latest Radiohead album, caught me unawares. I'd been checking the website every month or so recently, looking for news of a release date. But now it seems I'm a month or so behind the curve. It was release on Oct. 10th when I wasn't looking. And shockingly, the Radiohead band has decided to sell it as a download where you name your own price. You can even download it for Free, if you don't think it worth paying for. I agreed to pay $10.50 for the album with no regrets. I'm on the third listen through and I'm pleased with it. Talk about instant gratification! It only took about 10 minutes to download as opposed to waiting days for shipping. I expect as with their other releases it will grow on me over time.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
"Leah" by Ehud Havazelet, A Series of Disappointments
Like Never Before (1998) is Ehud Havazelet's collection of related stories. However, since it’s been a few years since I’ve read the first few stories in the collection, I couldn’t possibly tell you how they are related, except that the main characters are all part of the same extended family.
This morning I just finished reading “Leah”, a fifty page short (?) story in the middle of the book. Sadly, I can’t recommend it. Neither the narrator nor her cousin, Leah, ever endeared themselves to me. Sure, the story does have vivid details as it chronicles the cousin’s childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood.
The main stand-out scene is that of the narrator’s loss of her virginity on the removed front seat of a derelict Buick. It’s not so much the telling of the sex as it is the sense of place, the conversation between the teens, and the chaotic arrival of the entourage immediately following the act. David, the narrator’s dangerous brother, Leah, her religiously devout cousin, and a friend of David’s, Barry, show up with a supply of joints. By the end of this section, it’s clear that the narrator has a tendency to throw all caution to the wind. Her bother’s recklessness and cruelty also come across. And Leah is shown to be restrained to the point of absurdity, even though she clearly is fascinated by the aggressiveness of her cousin David.
The tale disappointed me from that point on. Even though the narrative of Leah’s multiple marriages was supposed to be ironic, given the childhood portrait of Leah praying repeatedly for her future husband, I found no surprise or charm in it. Was I supposed to laugh at the wedding scene where the groom abandons Leah at the altar because he has discovered she lied (or allowed her mother to lie on her behalf) about being a virgin, after two previous marriages?
The narrator’s own series of botched relationships wasn’t amusing either. In none of the relationships depicted is there any believable warmth, even though the narrator claims to love her Rumanian drug-dealer of a boyfriend. I felt nothing at the narrative of his assault and robbery. I couldn’t care less that he had to flee the country.
Lastly there is no sense of epiphany at the end of the tale. Leah pronounces to the narrator, “I’ve watched you your whole life and you’ve never known what would be enough for you.” I wanted to shout aloud, “I noticed that 25 pages ago!”
Leah’s seemingly happy marriage at the end didn’t ring emotionally true either. Her bearded husband and bear-toting child seemed like card-board cutouts.
I only finished reading the story out of stubbornness.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Marillion : Faith (Live)
Beautiful! If you haven't ever listened to Marillion, please start right now. You owe it to yourself! And if you haven't listened to Marillion in a long time . . . well, there must be something wrong with you! ;-) They TRUELY are a global treasure.
Friday, October 12, 2007
BORN Magazine: Art and Literature Together
This morning I happened upon this webzine, BORN, and I can’t recommend it enough. These folks are using computer based multimedia (particularly animation), traditional art, sound effects, and stunning poetic text to provide an intense experience for the audience. Not only did I thrill at the content on the site itself, but also I found myself clicking through a number of the links to learn more about the artists and designers. Think of it as an art gallery where all the artists merge their morphing images with stunning literature and a soundtrack. You’ll be enthralled and amazed! A great place to explore. http://www.bornmagazine.org/
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Heroes Rant!!!

Ok, this is not so much a review as a RANT! I am so annoyed with Heroes this season. Episode 2 of Season 2 was so awful, I don’t know that I can push through and watch anymore. GRRR!
I’m sorry but it’s not plausible that the Bennet family have relocated with such lavish life-style. Even managers at Kinkos don’t initially make enough for new vehicles and plush accommodations for a family of four—not on a single income! And, PA-LEESSE, you do not keep your job after breaking the fingers of your boss, no matter how annoying he is.
Niki and Micah? Who cares??? Niki is such a whiner. Ditto Micah!
Hiro’s trip to Japan’s past? It’s so silly. He writes notes to Ando and sticks them in the sword handle. What are we back in grade-school here? The notes add nothing to the narrative movement forward. Hiro and Ando were the best thing about Season One, and now they are played strictly for comic relief. What a waste. And I wish that annoying Kensei could kill himself by falling on his own sword. I just can’t stand that selfish SOB.
Maya and Alejandro. They would not be having nearly as many problems if Maya wasn’t so panicky and dependent. So far I have not seen anything redeeming or admirable about them as characters. They’re just helpless children lost in the woods, even though they are clearly full-grown.
Suresh is such a dope. You just know that he’s got to be dead-meat within just a few more episodes. There’s not even any suspense about his fate. He’s so easily fooled.
Peter and his identity in the box. First, the box idea is a stupid gimmick. There is no suspense for the audience since we already know who he is. Who really cares what’s in the box anyway? Even Peter doesn’t care what’s in it. Talk about a pointless story. Second, why should we be interested in Peter having to figure out his powers all over again? Didn’t we already do that last year?
West and Claire flying. Uh, didn’t I see that in Superman: The Movie (1978)???
Isaac’s paintings. Enough already!!!! Isaac is dead. Will we still be interpreting his premonition paintings ten years from now??? I’m sorry but to attempt to build suspense around a brutal death depicted in a painting can’t work forever, folks. See how the death of the cheerleader painting worked out? I’ve had enough. This is a cheesy gimmick if I ever saw one.
All we need now is another cheesy slogan like: “Save the man in the horn-rimmed glasses—Save the world!!”
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Short Story Kick: J.D. Chapman’s The Museum of Wooden Architecture

I’ve been on a kick of reading short stories. Partially because I have discovered I can read them while exercising on a treadmill or elliptical machine, usually finishing an entire story in about 30 minutes. It certainly beats the heck out of watching a.m. television! Over the next few days, perhaps weeks, I hope to offer a few notes on some of the most exciting stories I’ve read recently:
The Museum of Wooden Architecture by J.D. Chapman, Southern Humanities Review Winter 2007
This is the story of Travis Gruoch who wants to grow up to be astronaut, until the Challenger explosion. As an alternate focus for his Cold War fascination, Travis signs up to study Russian in high school and eventually follows his passion to participate in a Russian-American exchange program. The bulk of the story covers Travis’ outrageously funny stay in Russia.
J.D. Chapman offers up some wonderful character descriptions and details throughout this joyride of a story:
Mr. Metz [the Earth Science teacher] had learned to play the bagpipes in the Air Force, and was good at that; during assemblies and pep rallies he put on his blue kilt, his legs naked and incongruous beneath, like an Airedale’s, and he paraded around the basketball court with the thing under his arm like a speared goose.
She [Ms. Kromer, U.S. History teacher] had long legs and hair the color of V-8 . . .
No one encouraged Travis to take Russian, or even pointed out that it was available; it sat there on the mock schedule after French and before Spanish like an auk among pigeons.
The dialogue as Travis interacts with his Russian host family is particularly funny as well:
He [Travis] remembered the word for tasty, and he said it many times though he didn’t find it so. “Big thanks,” he said. “Very, very tasty. Very good.”
After dinner, Vladim put on a bluegrass record. He asked Travis, “Do you know it?” in Russian, and then pronounced, “Bloo-Grras!” in English. He snapped his fingers.
Travis said, “Of course. Yes. Music of Virginia, of my homeland,” and he snapped along with it though it was some kind of phony studio crossover shit with an electric bass and drums, and harmonies all wrong, not high lonesome at all but corny and sweet as a Disney kids’ record, and anyway Travis like John Cougar Mellencamp. He said, “My favorite!”
Vladim opened up a cabinet and took out a bottle of vodka. Tanya said, “No!” and looked embarrassed, but Vladim waved her off and said, “My son! My big, American son!” He poured the vodka into tall glasses, then spooned in sugar and bilberries. It burned, but it was very good. Travis had never been drunk before. His face was warm, and he said, “I love y’all,” and he tried to teach Tanya the buck-and wing.
As with all the best short story humorists (Twain, Tobias Wolff, Bobbie Ann Mason, to name a few), J.D. Chapman artfully shifts tone by the end of the story to make you feel deeply with the main character. The final paragraphs of the story hearken back to the opening images, but whereas the opening was light-hearted, the last scene is melancholy. There is the shock of mature insight. Through Travis’ eyes we get a strong sense of the impact of Cold War repression and the ongoing poverty of the Russian culture. This is absolutely one of the best short stories I’ve ever read.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Reviews of "Phoenix" Star Trek novels
The Price of the Phoenix (1977)
Sondra Marshak & Myrna Culbreath
Read July 30, 2007 – August 8, 2007
The Fate of the Phoenix (1979)
Sondra Marshak & Myrna Culbreath
Read September 12, 2007 – October 2, 2007
With the upcoming theatrical reboot of Star Trek featuring the original series characters, I’ve been feel nostalgic for the long past days when in Middle School and High School I could while away hours and even days reading Star Trek paperbacks. Yes, once-upon-a-time I would have claimed the label of Trekkie with pride. I guess old Trekkies die hard, since I’ve just finished reading three Trek novels in a row. I’d like to offer some notes on two of those which are among the earliest Trek novels.
The Price of the Phoenix lived up to my memory of it from those long past days of leisure. I had remembered that the novel featured a super-villain who utilized both psychological and physical torture in his attacks against Kirk, Spock, and the rest of the Enterprise crew. I had remember that this villain Omne had duplicated Kirk as part of his master plan to remake the universe in his image. Most importantly, I had remembered this as one of the most exciting and tension filled Trek novels ever. All these memories were verified in re-reading The Price of the Phoenix. Throughout this 182 page novel, my attention was riveted to this intense battle of wills.
What I had forgotten was the philosophical debates that run throughout the novel, revolving mostly around the value and place of exact duplicates. For example, what do you do with a man who is an exact copy of Captain Kirk? Obviously you can’t have two Kirks on the bridge of the Enterprise. If only one can command, is it irrefutably obvious that the original must have preference? When both are exactly the same down to the memories, how can you say the replica has less of a right?
There were moments in reading this novel that my head hurt from the shifts from extreme physical peril to mind games to moral debates. If it had been any greater in length, I might have despaired. However, as it was, I was quite pleased for the most part to lose myself in the trials Omne imposed on our beloved crew. If there ever was a villain who embodied the sensation of “menace” it is Omne; and as such, his threat gave me a thrill.
Lastly, I also enjoyed the development of the Romulan Commander and the Kirk duplicate who came to embrace the name James. It seems to me that these two were used to great effect as a foil to Kirk and Spock. James slowly starts to find an alternate life in the budding relationship with the Romulan Commander, and James comes to accept that he must relinquish Spock, McCoy, and his ship the Enterprise.
As for Fate of the Phoenix, the sequel, I can’t say nearly as much, at least not favorable comments. Where Price of the Phoenix was tight, intense, and claustrophobic even, The Fate of the Phoenix is a flawed attempt at epic. My biggest disappointment in The Fate of the Phoenix was how Omne turns ally. Why would anyone think it’s a good idea to take a great villain of true menace and turn him into a cuddly friend?
The reason for the alliance is moderately interesting as an idea. Omne needs Kirk, Spock, the Commander, and James to help in a war against himself. Omne has made a duplicate of himself and cloaked this copy in a replica of Spock’s body. Thus Omne has a disguise for infiltrating the Enterprise. However, Omne’s other goes awol, seeking dominance over his maker and cure for a built in death-date. Again sounds okay for a concept but in execution it comes off as contrived and flimsy.
There are so many reversals of fortune as the upper hand shifts back and forth between Omne and his Other, as the Commander fights for her James, as Kirk volleys from the realization that at one time or another his Spock had been replaced, and as Kirk and Spock weigh the morality of keeping one’s word to Omne.
At about the halfway point, I was desperate to be done with the book. I nearly skipped the final chapter a few times, but instead simply read only a few pages each night before bed—like a gulp of bad tasting medicine.
Overall I suspect that Marshak & Culbreath were attempting to create a very different book from Price of the Phoenix, perhaps a space epic. However, their ambition exceeded their gifts. Scene to scene this book feels fraught with contrived and melodramatic events. Also the whole family feel of Star Trek doesn’t quite make it into this book, because everyone had doubts about everyone. I hope I remember to never re-read this one again.
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