Moving Sale

I'm taking advantage of this moment when Blogger has chosen to stop supporting FTP blogs (don't worry if you don't know what that means, you don't have to) to fold the podcasts into the main news blog, Wombat's World. No reason they can't be there anyway -- it will be simpler in the long run. See you there!

So, um, sale... 50% off everything!

Conceit: Words

When you are at a loss for words, very little gets done.

I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all. ~Richard Wright, American Hunger


Another conceit: Just me, a Diva Echo, and my bowed psaltery
Words
MP3
2:12

Conceit: Diva Soup

At long last, a new podcast! And you thought I had abandoned the idea all together, but I have begun a new experiment which I am calling "Conceit" -- not in the sense of arrogant self-satisfaction, but in the literary sense of an overly elaborate and ridiculously stretched metaphor (like Donne's "The Flea"). I'm hoping that things will improve as I go along and I find my feet. Here's the first offering:

Diva Soup
MP3
4:16

Owl Stretching

Sorry for the long absence, but I return with something that will give you your money's worth: a snippet from my new novel that I'm busy revising. It's called Owl Stretching (at present, that may change) and takes place in the present, but in a slightly different America, one that failed in its revolution and one where catastrophic changes have taken place in recent years. The narrator is Ro Parker whose best friend Simon has just woken up from a ten year coma.

It feels weird putting up a work in progress, but I'm trying to be less touchy about my work and treat it more like a hardy dandelion than a hothouse orchid. This is a rough and raw recording -- no whistles and bells, stumbles included.

From chapter one of Owl Stretching
Running time 19:50

John Donne's "The Flea"

Here's a poem I always enjoy teaching. Donne has consummate skill and a fascinating biography. He went from cynical libertine to doting husband to grieving penitent.

When we think of rhetoric, we tend to focus on the most egregious examples: politics and advertising. But in this poem you can see Donne's rhetorical skill put to labour in service of another goal: sex. He tries to woo the woman using the flea as a flexible metaphor, extending it as far as his inventiveness can stretch it. Yes, fleas were a common fact of life in the 17th century.

Look at this flea, he tells her. Inside it, our bloods have mingled (here most texts will footnote the fact that folks at that time thought blood mingled during coitus). There's no sin involved, no loss of virginity, he goes on, and doesn't the flea seem to be enjoying itself? So why not yield to me? We can guess that she's less than convinced, because he has to try to stop her from killing the insect and ending his speech. He rushes into reasons: It's as if this flea is a home, a temple, a marriage bed -- and besides, since their blood is inside it, she would be killing the two of them as well as the flea.

She disagrees and kills the flea. Thinking quickly, he leaps to a new association: the crucifixion: "Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence"! Purple, the color of royalty, here associated with the king of kings, his nails, his blood -- tied together because the flea, too, is an innocent. When she gloats that she feels no suffering from the flea's minute bit of blood, he goes in for a last ditch effort: as little as that flea took from you, that's all that I want from you. Give up those false fears and give in to me! Did it work? We'll never know. It's a humble image, but Donne raises it up to magnificence. Likewise, I went with a simple presentation. No whistles or bells (could it be I'm just lazy? Naah).

Why Blake's Ghost of the Flea as illustration? Well, why not -- any excuse to drag Blake in, eh?

The Flea
Running Time 1.37

When Little Joe the Krampus Met

In a surprisingly timely manner, here's a poem inspired by my pal The joey Zone, famed of song and story -- and brilliant illustrations (isn't it cool when you have a mug with your friend's artwork on it from a way cool conference like Necronomicon -- yes, I'm talking about the world's most elegant Cthulhu!). Well, Joe has long had a fascination with the Krampus, who in many Germanic countries accompanies Saint Nicholas on his travels punishing the bad children with switches while the saint fills the good kids' shoes with goodies. The very worst children get clapped in chains and dragged off in the Krampus' basket to suffer a year's worth of hell.

But what if the Krampus met up with a mischievous boy who was NOT afraid? Well, listen and hear the tale -- or hop on over to the website and buy a copy of the chapbook, designed and illustrated by The joey Zone (of course!).

When Little Joe the Krampus Met

Running time 4.02

The Willimantic Frogs

I used to live in Connecticut near Willimantic, where frogs are an obsession -- as you can tell from their building a bridge with four of them perched on thread spools (because it used to be a mill town). I never liked the official story about the frog war, so I wrote one of my own that delved deeper and which was published as a chapbook, available for a time at local stores (until they went out of business, she says crying a tear for A Wink and a Nod Smile [d'oh!]). There are still a few copies available which you can buy from my website.

Enjoy "The Willimantic Frogs."

Running time 13.44 (yes, big file -- you might want to stream it)