(midnight. – promoted by ek hornbeck)
Your Bloguero is a digital protégé of Samo. Every night when this city loses its caffeine induced excitement and finally nods off in sweaty slumber, when entropy arrives and it finally collapses in torpor, your Bloguero takes out his metaphorical chalk, and his metaphorical spray paint, and he fills the city’s huge, unpainted walls with meaning. On these walls he publishes his message. He draws his allusions, his metaphors, his similes, his invective. These must always express the grinding dissonance between the “official story” and the gritty reality of the city’s people. These express the difference between the sanitized pablum in the Traditional Media and the aching, quivering, suffering flesh of real people. Your Bloguero is vigilant as he works. He watches for the thought police. For the art police. For the grammar police. For the fashion police. He watches for reactionaries. The elites who will call 911. The dupes who think that private property is not theft. He is persistent, and he is clear, and he continues to put out his message in places where it can be seen and where it remains until it is obliterated and expunged by ruling class flunkies. Too bad for them. Your Bloguero always comes back. He always returns to repeat himself. He will never stop. He can go on interminably. He will continue until he can no longer speak.
It doesn’t matter whether the walls are in Brooklyn or Manhattan or Paris or Buenos Aires or like this very wall, on the Internet. It doesn’t matter whether 3 people or 3 million see it. Your Bloguero knows that writing can be revolutionary. And that persistence is vital. And that, as the bard wrote, the readiness is all. Occasionally, your Bloguero goes in the wee hours of the morning to a wall only to find that someone else has already decorated it with a message. Your Bloguero loves that. Your Bloguero wishes that more people who see his work would reach for the metaphorical spray paint and chalk and stencils and stickers. Your Bloguero wishes that more people would write. Perhaps in time. As Basquiat, as Banksy, as a zillion other artists have inspired your Bloguero, so too, your Bloguero hopes you, amig@, will eventually be inspired not only by his work, but by his persistence. This, dear reader, is an endurance event. It is not for the easily distracted. Or the easily tired. No. It depends on following through and bringing your inspiration to visibility. To keeping on keeping on.
The week ended with Russian Writer, Straw Hat, Summer, a tale of your Bloguero’s purchase of a straw hat in New York’s East Village. What fun. And you can find a picture of your Bloguero in a hat Tolstoy would have loved.
The Land Of Haiku is a series of three haikus with a theme. Your Bloguero loves haiku and they are a feature of The Dream Antilles. Your Bloguero, however, is not comfortable with the appellation “poet”. He prefer to think of himself as a writer who can also make Haiku. If your Bloguero could turn out a decent Sonnet or Villanelle (he can’t), he might take on the “P” word as a description. Alas. Your Bloguero aspires, but no puedo hacerlo.
Excuse Me While I Kiss The Sky has Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock on video and your Bloguero’s suggestion that we all go back to August, 1969, and find out where we got off the tracks. How else to unravel the current mess? How can we have gone from such a perfect moment to such a complete mess?
What A Surprise, Oh My Goodness is the satisfying story of your Bloguero’s addiction to the Argentine cookie “Frutigran” and the wonderful favor done for him by a blogger in sending this impossible treasure to your Bloguero. An inspiring story of community. And perhaps of your Bloguero’s gluttony.
Your Bloguero notes that this Digest is a weekly feature. Your Bloguero, though needs encouragement. From you. It’s easy to give him that. If you read this Digest, please click the “encouragement jar” in the comments. That’s the only way your Bloguero will know that you visited. Hasta pronto.
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