E.C. Walsh Blogsphere

On history and a new poem

In my youth, I was interested in Francis Fukuyama’s book The End of History and the Last Man which proposes Western democracy and capitalism had defeated other political and economic philosophies. I even heard him speak live in person about his book, which seemed to have got criticism for being triumphalist.

It came to mind today because of the Ukraine war going on now and other military conflicts and terrorism that have occurred since Fukuyama published the book in 1992. His critics may have been largely correct because counter-ideologies like Middle East terrorism and Soviet holdovers such as Vladimir Putin did not just go away at the end of the 20th century.

One analyst of my dissertation topic Samuel Beckett said his drama is often in a way about asymptosis, a mathematical term for lines that geometrically approach each other but never really touch. So there are still significant vestiges of these counter-Western ideologies almost three decades later. And they are hurting and killing people.

On a lighter note, a satirical poem:

“Old” by yours  truly

Get out of the stock market! It will soon crash.

Stash your cash,

Or instead invest in (g)old or s(l)ilver.

Old.

Take what’s left of your liver,

And just forgive her… him too.

On the latest U.S. Supreme Court nominee

I watched about 20 minutes of nominee Kentanji Brown Jackson’s Senate hearing today, She seems intelligent, but Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-SC) brought up some strong points with her.

Jackson was apparently very lenient with at least one adult child pornographer, and she equivocated about it in the hearing .

A few thoughts. Child porn by adults should be a serious crime, even if the child seems willing at the time. There is a positive energy between children and adults, but when the adults start taking sexual photos or touching them sexually, they should be arrested and punished.

On an opinion/essay

(Disclaimer: this excerpt  is by Gerald Seib, who seems to be a very good columnist at the WSJ, and I worked with him in the same office for about a decade as a mainly “spot” reporter. We also went to the same high school, even though he is older, and I did not know him in person.)

This is the first paragraph of his latest column:

“As it becomes clear that Mr. Putin’s ruthless onslaught in Ukraine and his possible ambitions to go even further will produce long-term shifts in global relationships, those questions are going to come increasingly to the fore. The world faces a period of choosing—with Mr. Putin or against him?—as well as a need to realign existing patterns of energy, food and technology production.”

It is the kind of journalistic and opinion writing that I like because it gets to the point  quickly.

I don’t know all the reasons Putin may have for this invasion, but Russians should be repulsed, and if they go into other countries, WW III is worth it in my opinion. Apparently, he wants that the Cold War never ends.

On audio novels and a new poem

I have not been driving for a few years. Tried to listen to a few full audio novels in the car some time ago but found it too distracting to .follow long narratives and drive at the same time (especially while going a long distance on I-95, haha).

I liked hearing lectures about art and poetry on the car’s CD player.

I think people have different brain types. Some can concentrate well or even better with music or audio novels on; some are distracted by it. For a while, I did a lot of work at cafes that had music. But the coffee also helped with concentration.

A poem

“Fog” by yours truly

Fog blocks the foothills

Like some block memories with their wills,

But don’t throw yourself out the window sill;

Just sit still.

Just about three random thoughts. It is Sunday, and it can be difficult to stay focused on the weekend.

On Mass, there was an Old Testament reading today where God famously says to Moses, “I am who am.” I did not fully understand the statement as a child. I guess it is about acceptance,

In his sermon, the pastor spoke about metanoia, meaning change of heart. A Protestant acquaintance spoke to me recently about being “born again” when he met his future wife. I think in my religion it refers to this as being a bad or good Catholic.

Was watching some random music videos today too. One that came up on YouTube was “Come Undone” by Duran Duran. I have written about the pop group before, but I like this song. The poet Seamus Heaney spoke about the strains of strength that can emerge during times of weakness. I think that may be what this song is about.

Two stupid poems

“Angry” by yours truly

Angry dogs,

Dialogues,

Stupid blogs;

Be careful in fogs.

“Paste” by yours truly

Sometimes a mind

Is a terrible thing toothpaste.

Is life a waste?/

On poetry and politics

I don’t know what to say more on the Ukraine war; it has been going on for almost a month.

I did like Bono’s poem about the current war that I have lifted from The Irish Times. In the 1980s, a slightly older acquaintance said he disliked U2 because Bono wrote about things he had no right to (I think he was referring to  his song about MLK, Jr.)

But I think Bono’s political views are acute and usually correct. Pop singers/writers don’t have to talk only about romance.

Here  is the newspaper excerpt:

Trying to get a new novel started, so just a few poems today

1. “Toast” by yours truly

“You, sir, are toast!”

“What you don’t have is what you want most.”

“Really, you are the lowest. Just scrape off the burnt part of the bread. Enough said.”

“Is she toasted too?”

“No McGoo, don’t bring her into this again.”

“Well, may I  put on my toast green eggs and ham.”

“No! And your name is not Sam. You may have some spam. But don’t get burnt.”

2) “Contusional” by yours truly

Cranial contusion:

Illusion, delusion.

Just confusion.

Take the brusin’.

3)”Clouds” by yours truly

Clouds and mist,

Vision I can’t resist.

They persist

On the horizon,

Don’t let the lies in.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day (fun fact: Patrick was actually from England and converting the Irish)

On this St. Patrick’s Day, a brief poem by W.B. Yeats. When I was an “angry young man,” I resented the association of this holiday with alcohol and debauchery.

But Yeats was not a drunkard (may have been obsessed a bit with a few women). I think he was just being honest in this poem.

Some poems

1. “Star” by yours truly

Single bright star,

See you afar,

Over a brilliant sunrise,

Something of surprise.

Let it soak in my eyes.

Very loud cars.

Are they going to bars?

2, “Aubade” by  yours truly

Aubade, no maid.

So just do chores, daily bores.

Listen to music, not a refusenik.

Despite rhetoric, not sick.

Recover brother.

3. “Pun(k)” by yours truly

You’re just a pun(k)!

Now may be drunk.

You smell like a skunk.

Your chances have plunk.

Get of this funk.

Let’s stop this bunk.

4. “U-Haul” by yours truly

U-Haul,

You bawl.

Must move again

For past sin.

Short or small,

Stumble, fall.

Comes a bearer pall.

On anger and a few new poems

Anger and wrath have been on my mind a lot lately, as you can tell if you read my social media posts from a year or two back. There is a popular saying that “if you aren’t angry, you aren’t paying attention.” And there was a line from the post-punk rock group PIL that “anger is an energy.” Anger can make you  productive, but you need to be careful with it; it is like fire.

Well, it is negative energy, but everyone has it at some time, .”It’s in the way that you use it” goes a line by Eric Clapton, I think.

On another matter, I have just started a new fictional novel but feel a bit disoriented about it. The main premise is a man later in life who still has conflicted feelings about his father. My first three novels seemed to have more momentum and structure. I am not sure where this one is going for now.

Have some more brief poems but think I will leave them for another day.