<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430</id><updated>2011-08-13T04:00:39.283-07:00</updated><category term='limes'/><category term='pears'/><category term='skeptical occultism'/><category term='Political Art'/><category term='words'/><category term='questions for Megan'/><category term='Endarkenment'/><category term='Oakland A&apos;s Slow Sports'/><category term='forthcoming'/><category term='the next last admiration'/><category term='Trevor Paglen'/><category term='the last admiration'/><category term='tips derived from claire'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='slow poetry'/><category term='questions for Lauren'/><category term='Mark Lombardi'/><category term='ll reading'/><category term='megan appreciation'/><category term='readings'/><category term='sentences'/><category term='questions for Jared'/><category term='Robert Forster'/><title type='text'>Mrs. Maybe's Seance</title><subtitle type='html'>"It was a preposterous reverie..." - Lisa Robertson</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>83</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-3710501181601350774</id><published>2010-11-15T10:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T10:09:32.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs. Maybe Has Moved</title><content type='html'>Hello to you and you and you,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Maybe has moved to a new website:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mrsmaybe.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://mrsmaybe.wordpress.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of our business, and your business will be conducted there. K?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-3710501181601350774?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/3710501181601350774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=3710501181601350774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3710501181601350774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3710501181601350774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2010/11/mrs-maybe-has-moved.html' title='Mrs. Maybe Has Moved'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6780204427117923295</id><published>2010-06-19T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T08:22:17.316-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pears'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='limes'/><title type='text'>But Seriously...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/TBzfbP43PkI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/a_D7jVNfVHY/s1600/IMG_0177.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/TBzfbP43PkI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/a_D7jVNfVHY/s400/IMG_0177.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484504105444916802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. M is really, doubtlessly here, although distributing awkwardly and unevenly.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Use the Paypal button, or write us at mrs.maybe@gmail.com if you're interested in trades:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;we're open to ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Who's Inside:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Brandon Brown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sara Larsen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Julian T. Brolaski&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lindsey Boldt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;K. Silem Mohammad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emily Grossman&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rob Schlegel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;CAConrad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Judith Goldman&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;David Highsmith&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sara Mumolo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nada Gordon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jon Davis&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amber DiPietra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dana Ward&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6780204427117923295?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6780204427117923295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6780204427117923295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6780204427117923295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6780204427117923295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2010/06/but-seriously.html' title='But Seriously...'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/TBzfbP43PkI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/a_D7jVNfVHY/s72-c/IMG_0177.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2106547858843459975</id><published>2010-04-23T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T18:36:28.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs. Maybe #3 Has Arrived</title><content type='html'>Finally, your 3rd Mrs. Maybe is, like, available.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2106547858843459975?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2106547858843459975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2106547858843459975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2106547858843459975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2106547858843459975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2010/04/mrs-maybe-3-has-arrived.html' title='Mrs. Maybe #3 Has Arrived'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-986697253611053626</id><published>2009-10-18T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T15:39:16.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs. Maybe #3 Update</title><content type='html'>Hey There Federalistes,&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Catherine, Lauren, and myself (Jared) are busily finishing up figuring out the contents for MM3 - we're pleased because it's gonna have some pretty good varieties and/or examples of the poesie. Hang tite, and if you need to tell us something, drop us a line at mrs (dawt) maybe (atta) gmail (dotta) com &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Be cool. Listen to Jim Lauderdale. Get empathic with the durt, and remember, they're not cockroaches unless they're in your house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jared as the Contessa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-986697253611053626?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/986697253611053626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=986697253611053626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/986697253611053626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/986697253611053626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/10/mrs-maybe-3-update.html' title='Mrs. Maybe #3 Update'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-7974842161700343059</id><published>2009-09-04T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-04T17:27:59.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Autumn in the Middle West</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Maybe Conspirators Reunite in the middle of the country:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday, September 18th - Scott Inguito &amp;amp; Jared Stanley, at Woodland Pattern, Milwaukee, WI&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.woodlandpattern.org/"&gt;http://www.woodlandpattern.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday, September 19th - Scott Inguito &amp;amp; Sandra Lim, Quimby's, Chicago IL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://quimbys.com/blog/store-events/scott-inguito-and-sandra-lim-read/"&gt;http://quimbys.com/blog/store-events/scott-inguito-and-sandra-lim-read/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday, September 20th - Scott Inguito, James Shea, and Jared Stanley, at Avol's Bookstore, in Madison, WI&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://avolsbookstore.com/events.html"&gt;http://avolsbookstore.com/events.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wednesday, September 23rd - Kate Greenstreet &amp;amp; Jared Stanley, The Danny's Reading Series, Chicago, IL&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.noslander.com/dannys.html"&gt;http://www.noslander.com/dannys.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday, September 24th - Jessica Savitz &amp;amp; Jared Stanley, Prairie Lights Books, Iowa City, IA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.prairielightsbooks.com/NASApp/store/IndexJsp"&gt;http://www.prairielightsbooks.com/NASApp/store/IndexJsp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-7974842161700343059?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/7974842161700343059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=7974842161700343059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7974842161700343059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7974842161700343059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/09/early-autumn-in-middle-west.html' title='Early Autumn in the Middle West'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-7266671640701541096</id><published>2009-08-22T11:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T11:55:26.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crag Hill</title><content type='html'>Dang! Wish we would've made it to his Portland Reading:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;http://www.ditchpoetry.com/craghill.htm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-7266671640701541096?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/7266671640701541096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=7266671640701541096' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7266671640701541096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7266671640701541096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/08/crag-hill.html' title='Crag Hill'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1747803873380894709</id><published>2009-08-18T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T12:21:26.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From The Alternative Weekly</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/Sor_JvXr-2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/NVpWA7pF9FA/s1600-h/WWeek+Clipping.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/Sor_JvXr-2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/NVpWA7pF9FA/s400/WWeek+Clipping.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371386048392461154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/Sor-9pc2jUI/AAAAAAAAAGc/n8OYc3pW1zo/s1600-h/WWeek+Clipping.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;text-decoration: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1747803873380894709?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1747803873380894709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1747803873380894709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1747803873380894709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1747803873380894709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/08/from-alternative-weekly.html' title='From The Alternative Weekly'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/Sor_JvXr-2I/AAAAAAAAAGk/NVpWA7pF9FA/s72-c/WWeek+Clipping.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1261153032993339093</id><published>2009-08-10T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T15:35:14.709-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='readings'/><title type='text'>Portland Visitation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 136, 102); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mrs. Maybe People in Portland.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Thursday, August 13 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204); "&gt;JARED STANLEY &amp;amp; LAUREN LEVIN &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); "&gt;6 PM, Valentine's, 232 SW Ankeny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 136, 102); "&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; "&gt;Friday, August 14 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 204, 204); "&gt;JARED STANLEY &amp;amp; SCOTT INGUITO &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); "&gt;6 PM, Pushdot Studio, 1021 SE Caruthers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1261153032993339093?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1261153032993339093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1261153032993339093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1261153032993339093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1261153032993339093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/08/portland-visitation.html' title='Portland Visitation'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2158287049463233150</id><published>2009-06-17T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T17:24:44.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All This Stuff</title><content type='html'>Adventures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/"&gt;A Voice Box&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://westwindreview.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;West Wind Review&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.rabbitlightmovies.com/"&gt;Rabbit Light Movies&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stmarys-ca.edu/external/Mary/"&gt;Mary Magazine&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2158287049463233150?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2158287049463233150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2158287049463233150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2158287049463233150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2158287049463233150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/06/all-this-stuff.html' title='All This Stuff'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-3445226527210330069</id><published>2009-05-26T17:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T17:20:23.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Satan's Lagomorph Blots Out the Sun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/ShyHPto6vPI/AAAAAAAAAGM/chdJobO_k1Y/s1600-h/P5180026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/ShyHPto6vPI/AAAAAAAAAGM/chdJobO_k1Y/s200/P5180026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340291962173570290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-3445226527210330069?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/3445226527210330069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=3445226527210330069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3445226527210330069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3445226527210330069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/05/satans-lagomorph-blots-out-sun.html' title='Satan&apos;s Lagomorph Blots Out the Sun!'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/ShyHPto6vPI/AAAAAAAAAGM/chdJobO_k1Y/s72-c/P5180026.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-712645121349949893</id><published>2009-05-18T14:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T12:31:29.299-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Book Made of Forest Readings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/ShryCRsiG4I/AAAAAAAAAGE/yFvMBONeUeY/s1600-h/3258328645_6ab4728571.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/ShryCRsiG4I/AAAAAAAAAGE/yFvMBONeUeY/s200/3258328645_6ab4728571.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339846429124991874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My (Jared's) first book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Book Made of Forest&lt;/span&gt;, is just out from Salt Publishing. I'll be doing a couple of readings from it in Northern California, at these fine venues:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May 29th&lt;br /&gt;w/Scott Inguito and David Highsmith&lt;br /&gt;Canessa Gallery / 708 Montgomery St in San Francisco / 8pm&lt;br /&gt;(This one's kind of a book release party)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 19th&lt;br /&gt;w/Scott Inguito&lt;br /&gt;A New Cadence Reading Series / Santa Cruz / (more info forthwith)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 25th&lt;br /&gt;Second Time Around Books&lt;br /&gt;524 W Main St&lt;br /&gt;Merced, CA 95340&lt;br /&gt;(209) 723-9521&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come see my voice.  Info about the book is &lt;a href="http://www.saltpublishing.com/books/smp/9781844715589.htm"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a related issue, Salt Publishing's been having some intense financial struggles. If you've been looking for a good time to get some Salt in your cereal, this would be it. Check it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.saltpublishing.com/blogs/confidential.php"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just One Book&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you from Jared.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-712645121349949893?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/712645121349949893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=712645121349949893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/712645121349949893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/712645121349949893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/05/some-book-made-of-forest-readings.html' title='Some Book Made of Forest Readings'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/ShryCRsiG4I/AAAAAAAAAGE/yFvMBONeUeY/s72-c/3258328645_6ab4728571.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-572343407034882987</id><published>2009-05-09T21:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T00:59:52.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>J. Moxley's Clampdown</title><content type='html'>That "Clampdown" is an incredible book - rhetorical, somehow distanced and utterly present in each of its extended scenarios and musings...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; is major poetry. Her poem "The Occasion" encapsulates like nothing else I've read what it was like to live through the Bush era. This stands along Dugan's "When McCarthy Was a Wolf Among a Nation of Queer Queers" as a depiction of some history. Just breathtaking work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-J&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-572343407034882987?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/572343407034882987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=572343407034882987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/572343407034882987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/572343407034882987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/05/book-made-of-forest-amazon-sales-rank.html' title='J. Moxley&apos;s Clampdown'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5569291055703052450</id><published>2009-05-06T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T18:58:51.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Compleynt</title><content type='html'>Ugh, could somebody tell the poets to stop writing essays about language! Or essays about reviews! Let's be shamans and talk about the soul, or the frogs. I love Chad Sweeney's poem in the Coconut Magazine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. At least be as useful as therapists, but less about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-J&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5569291055703052450?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5569291055703052450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5569291055703052450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5569291055703052450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5569291055703052450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/05/compleynt.html' title='Compleynt'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-3133394550143791418</id><published>2009-04-24T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T14:45:46.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs. May Be-In</title><content type='html'>To hear some of the contributors to Mrs. Maybe in their natural habitat, please consider attending a reading  celebrating the release of Mrs. Maybe the Second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Featuring The Claire Becker, The Bill Luoma, The Catherine Meng, The Erin Morrill, The Cynthia Sailers, The Andrew Kenower, and perhaps some other kool "bands-without-musicians"&lt;br /&gt;or what-have-you type artists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, May 10th&lt;br /&gt;3pm &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Catherine Meng's backyard&lt;br /&gt;1825 Derby Street   Apt. D&lt;br /&gt;1st block west of MLK on the right.&lt;br /&gt;ph: &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1240608889_0"&gt;510-981-0495&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1240608889_1"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grilled foods and or red beans and rice will levitate if you use a fork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-3133394550143791418?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/3133394550143791418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=3133394550143791418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3133394550143791418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3133394550143791418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/04/mrs-may-be-in.html' title='Mrs. May Be-In'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-3791452710717100037</id><published>2009-04-15T09:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T09:50:28.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoe Blogging</title><content type='html'>Salt's Crashaw Prize Blog has posts from the Crashaw peoples today. I'm writing about shoes, I think I sound kind of crazy, and the last bit is a lie b/c I just got a sick pair of opening ceremony shoes in beige, turquoise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My post is at the bottom of the page, &lt;a href="http://www.saltpublishing.com/blogs/crashaw.php"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-3791452710717100037?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/3791452710717100037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=3791452710717100037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3791452710717100037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3791452710717100037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/04/shoe-blogging.html' title='Shoe Blogging'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-4665410982583423856</id><published>2009-04-09T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T12:06:04.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbara Jane Reyes on Reading at UCM</title><content type='html'>Right &lt;a href="http://bjanepr.wordpress.com/2009/04/09/poetry-fabulous-folks-at-uc-merced/#more-4112"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-4665410982583423856?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/4665410982583423856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=4665410982583423856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4665410982583423856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4665410982583423856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/04/barbara-jane-reyes-on-reading-at-ucm.html' title='Barbara Jane Reyes on Reading at UCM'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5632241885928313834</id><published>2009-04-07T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T11:57:36.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man With the Materials</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SduiGN9Eo_I/AAAAAAAAAF0/F5jMrz0NUsY/s1600-h/05fink2_190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SduiGN9Eo_I/AAAAAAAAAF0/F5jMrz0NUsY/s320/05fink2_190.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322025612377105394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/05/arts/design/05fink.html"&gt;http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/05/arts/design/05fink.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5632241885928313834?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5632241885928313834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5632241885928313834' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5632241885928313834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5632241885928313834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/04/man-with-materials.html' title='The Man With the Materials'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SduiGN9Eo_I/AAAAAAAAAF0/F5jMrz0NUsY/s72-c/05fink2_190.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5304019905301339032</id><published>2009-03-19T16:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T16:59:43.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>friday, saturday</title><content type='html'>tomorrow night, friday march 20, mrs. maybe editor catherine meng and mrs. maybe contributor james shea read fantastically at studio one, doors open at 7:00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;night after, saturday march 21, mrs. maybe beloved catherine theis, mrs. maybe contributor james shea, and mrs. maybe admired poets &amp;amp; editors of try, sara larsen and david brazil, read phantasmagorically at canessa park, reading at 8:00.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, and jared, could you link to the full post about the young poets reading? i don't get it, though i would like to talk to you.  or tell me what you think, and i will talk to your opinions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5304019905301339032?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5304019905301339032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5304019905301339032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5304019905301339032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5304019905301339032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/03/friday-saturday.html' title='friday, saturday'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1371428706640586331</id><published>2009-03-19T12:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T12:09:27.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hell Yeah Yes!</title><content type='html'>Call me Commissioner. Today I was appointed to the Merced Bicycle Advisory Commission.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I need a tie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1371428706640586331?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1371428706640586331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1371428706640586331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1371428706640586331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1371428706640586331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/03/hell-yeah-yes.html' title='Hell Yeah Yes!'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2759253612186563679</id><published>2009-03-13T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T12:54:20.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh?!? What!?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;From Martin Earl's post regarding whether the YOUNG POETS read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Seen in the light of cognitive neuroscience it is easier, and less emotionally fraught, to begin to understand why poetry, and by extension, literature and erudite culture in general, is already well along the road to extinction. It is a question of stimulus; the world is changing how we feel about the world, and the aesthetic products which derive from the need to articulate those feelings are changing as a consequence. Since poetry is now written largely without rules (or written with self-invented rules), since the common craft of metrics, rhyming, quantifying are no longer taught, largely dispensed with by the community, the result is a less universal and a more personal poem, a poem that can no longer be “read”, except by the writer and the writer’s closest cohorts – those who know the language. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with this. There is simply no need in today’s world to write or to read epics composed in &lt;i&gt;ottava rima&lt;/i&gt; which tell the life-stories of unlikely heroes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyone? Let's talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2759253612186563679?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2759253612186563679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2759253612186563679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2759253612186563679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2759253612186563679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/03/huh-what.html' title='Huh?!? What!?!?'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1149597189247164153</id><published>2009-03-03T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T14:46:16.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Think of It as Being Like an NPR Pledge Drive - Only British</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2&gt;Salt Publishing Fundraiser&lt;/h2&gt; &lt;img src="http://saltpublishing.com/blogs/media/1/dancing-fundraiser.jpg" alt="Fundraiser" title="Fundraiser" height="311" width="400" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since 2000, Salt Publishing has provided tens of thousands of customers in communities around the world with a wide range of contemporary poetry and short stories. Our literary success has largely been dependent on our innovative approach to sales and marketing but more recently we have benefited enormously from the active support of our major funders, the Arts Council of England. That funding is drawing to end during one of the world’s worst recessions and Salt now needs your direct support to continue with our ambitious development programme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salt has developed award-winning Native American and indigenous writing programmes, new translations programmes, and launched free digital magazines, as well as developments to support debuts by emerging writers both young and old. Our digital developments have included podcasts, video, social networking, online advertising, blogs, samples, electronic alerts and much more, all in aid of raising awareness of great writers and great books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In 2008, Salt won the Nielsen Innovation of the Year for our work in marketing poetry, as part of the UK’s Independent Publishing Awards. We have won an American Book Award for our contribution to American literature in 2006 and were Wordcraft Circle of Native Writers &amp;amp; Storytellers Publisher of The Year in 2006. Our class-leading Web site achieves over 15 million hits a year, reaching readers in almost every country around the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, our goal is to raise £50,000 to support our publishing and Web development. With over 100 books to publish this year, we will be extending our products and services with new ebooks, mentoring services, more magazines and a new Latin American writing series. We hope to bring great contemporary writing by some of the world’s finest writers to more people than ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hope you will join us in reaching our fundraising goal. A simple donation can be made online at &lt;a href="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=3621527"&gt;https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&amp;amp;hosted_button_id=3621527&lt;/a&gt; or you can also send a cheque payable to Salt Publishing Ltd to: 14a High Street, Fulbourn, Cambridge CB21 5DH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sincerely thank you for your time and continued support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris Hamilton-Emery&lt;br /&gt;Director&lt;br /&gt;Salt Publishing&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1149597189247164153?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1149597189247164153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1149597189247164153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1149597189247164153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1149597189247164153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/03/think-of-it-as-being-like-npr-pledge.html' title='Think of It as Being Like an NPR Pledge Drive - Only British'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-7834079368245702329</id><published>2009-02-25T10:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T10:12:57.912-08:00</updated><title type='text'>E. Hamish Plumbrick for Poet Laureate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/c7dda4c81d/plumbrick-for-poet-laureate"&gt;E. Hamish Plumbrick and the FIVE POETRY DEATH TALENTS!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-7834079368245702329?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/7834079368245702329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=7834079368245702329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7834079368245702329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7834079368245702329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/02/e-hamish-plumbrick-for-poet-laureate.html' title='E. Hamish Plumbrick for Poet Laureate'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-973187910048517481</id><published>2009-02-22T10:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T11:58:17.325-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Article and An Interview, Whistling Past One Another</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://artrecess.blogspot.com/2009/02/gabriel-gudding-illinois-usa-and-adam.html"&gt;Gabe Gudding Talking to Adam Fieled&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/22/books/review/Orr-t.html?pagewanted=1&amp;amp;ref=books"&gt;David Orr, Kind of Yawning&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the Gudding interview is terrific, and offers much to agree with, as well as much to argue against - I intend to write quite a bit about it, later today, perhaps. The Orr article, is just plain silly, but I think worth reading, you know, for it thoroughgoing middlebrow attitude. GRRRRRRREATNESS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before reading the following, please read GG's interview, cause I'm a bit selective in my quotations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I like about Gabe Gudding’s writing is its kind of blissed-out ferocity. He writes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Most poetry is a kind of verbal costume. An ideational schmaltz. An emotional uniform. A mental getup. This is just as true for avant garde and post-avant work as it is for mainstream stuff. Though I don't think the costumed life or the costumed mind is peculiar to poetry, necessarily, as a genre, it's no secret poetry tends more toward stylization than other modes. Poetry is the country music of literature. Given to schmaltz, nostalgia, over extension, socio-emotional reactivity, and alienation from material reality. The flipside is the hipster reaction to this: flaff, whathaveyou, langpo…our capacity for delusion is almost total.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, of course, I totally agree with his analysis of the “hipster problem.” I don’t agree that a ‘mental get-up’ is in any way a problem. I don’t want to see a bare brain. ever. Unless I can tuck in a penny into one of its folds. What I do like is his outright mockery of our falso avantiness, but only because of it’s ‘delusion.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The book [R.I.N.] became in one sense oppositional to the idea that the imagination is a refuge. We are told by poets for the last two hundred twenty years there is some kind of glorious refuge in imagination, imagination is this transcendent, palliative kingdom: the safety and order in the supreme fiction, the imagination as oasis, a good poem as a Wallace Stevens' Memorial vacation get-away, and that this capacity of fantasy is some kind of "palace of wisdom." This is complete bunk. Absolute delusion. It's the intellectual equivalent of tourism: the knowing, willful engagement in the delusive economy of deflected escape. It makes sense that Stevens constitutes the pinnacle of this romantic ideal -- as his poetics is strongly related to the rise of modern tourism. Where Stevens thought he was speaking of the nature of mind and imagination and its relation to reality, he was in fact writing deeply classicist and racist poetry. This book stakes an oppositional poetics to Stevens, Ginsberg, Spicer, Ashbery, siding with Loy, Lola Ridge, Rakosi, Niedecker. I wanted to write the kitsch, the radio, the a-magical, the quotidia of civic life, the road sign -- things normally kept from poetry -- as a means of reminding myself how much stuff we IGNORE in order to pretend to touch the real or the supreme – or “the mind,” as if the mind were this Ashberian numinous burning collagic machine of lyricism.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I don’t know what Spicer he’s talking about here. Much as I like GG, he doesn’t seem to have read Spicer very well at all. Spicer is a-magical in his magic, and I think JS’s writing is closely related to the GG’s own method.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, GG gets right to the heart of my problem with Stevens. On the one hand, Stevens “mental get-up” makes me like his writing. On the other hand, Steven’s sort of monomania about it gets really annoying. “Burnshaw” and “The Revolutionists Stop for Orangeade” being the kinds of poems that really bug me. It’s the Insurance Dude coming out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This idea of the imagination and tourism as these twinned, isolating ways of being in the world are totally perfect. GG talks earlier about the inclusiveness of R.I.N. as being anti-imaginative, and I really really appreciate that. This is Me ‘n’ Scott’s New Literalism, I think. How to move through your imagination to a non-abstract REAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, I must protest, I continue to honor the fabulists and mages. A. Joron, for example. I find an unresolved tension between the ‘imposition’ of the imagination on the landscape (as in D. Abrams “Animism and the Alphabet”) and the naming of the trash, and the crap, and the trashcrap of talking about crap and trash. I still believe in song and singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;At an aesthetic level, [R.I.N.] is textured by what Bakhtin calls "primary speech genres" (road signs, radio utterances, bumper stickers, the makeshift reality of internal mental dialogue, embarrassing first draft crap), the book is perforce built on speech realities that fall outside what Bakhtin calls official speech. It is overtly badly stylized (poorly realized) speech. But nowhere does it touch on the nature of the real. It’s just proffering the other things often left out of a book, a history, a politics, an organized “life”: buildings the size of dust motes, blurry towns smeared into a chain of ramps and roadside islands. It says nothing about the way these things exist, just that they might. The towns we see from the road might exist. The people in the Hardees might exist. The rest stops might exist. The jerk in the adjacent car might. Your hands on the steering wheel might too. A way out of my sorrow might exist. A way out of literature might exist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha! And of course, this is an act of the imagination engaging with the language of the boring. This ties R.I.N. to Whitman, in the sad, official abstraction of actual places that highways always enforce, lovely as they are in their own mononomic use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I mean, basically there have been over the past 150 years a limited range of techniques that just keep getting relabeled and rebranded: collage becomes "cut up" becomes "flarf" or "flirph" or whatever it's called now; disjunctive anacoluthon becomes what William James called "automatic writing" and Stein takes that into cubist dada which is then rebranded via a different set of theoretical apparatuses (Frankfurt School) as L=A=N....; a hodgepodge of sleep-based techniques and collaborative aleatoric methods morph (thank goodness) with oppositional leftist politics into surrealism which then meld with the rightist political quietism of late modernism into deep image and ...?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;This is a market. Markets need a predictive mindset. If "art" and "writing" cannot divest itself of this fascination with symbolic exchange-value in favor of a use-value, it will continue to be just another inverted extension of the economic system.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Too, markets need a projected null point that serves to mask the manufacture of collective misrecognition: the new; imagination; the originary; celebrity and celebration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;[…]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And after having written, is it possible not to vie for status as a consecrated writer or as a writer who displays his own performative disinterest in the field of production?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what can you say? Does GG presume he exists outside of markets? Or is this a dream of being unattached, some residual individual wish? Perhaps no – there’s a lot of ass covering in this interview – I feel like the asking of the question is fine, but there can be responses which are answers, I think. I mean, he’s setting himself up to be a target here – I mean, we could ‘brand’ R.I.N. as any number of kinds of writing – I suppose he tries to avoid it through the thoroughgoing ‘crappiness’ or ‘badness’ of the writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I do like here is the kind of mockery of Silliman-ish insistence on movements and literary ‘branding.’ AMERICAN HYBRID, dorks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As to whether I think of my more ardent poet friends or acquaintances as "fallacious": no. I don't think of people caught within the dream of literature fallacious. I just think they are following the logic of the game they find themselves in. Part of that logic is belief -- believing in the religion of literature -- and part of that is the pretense not to believe. Performative indifference is part of an avant garde (or, as it's called now, "post avant") symbolic economy, just as the dream of what you call "lasting value" is part of a more established symbolic/financial economy of letters. And the machine has to turn: margin to center; acoustic to electric; Alan to Golding; outlaw to classic. The two different non-desirable-locales, as you call them, depend on each other. Sure you can find a viable third realm if you believe in Santa Claus. And lots of people do -- and one can make the flock move this way or that way: there are lots of tactics and strategies for planting one's brand. Take your pick. One can form a group, a "movement" -- or go it alone and play the transgressor, the outlaw, the shaman, versions of the sacred heretic: all of these things work. They each have their tactical logic. None of it matters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the idea, but the tone is pretty snotty, in a bad way. But, wait, none of it matters? That’s surely some academic blasé shit, I think – it does matter. Or Buddhism? Otherwise, American Idol is allowed to matter. And, American Idol is real shit that doesn’t matter. GG is, I think finally so interesting because he prefers the ‘dream’ of the public space of the freeway to the ‘dream’ of literature, which matters only to literati. And we KNOW that Hardee’s matters more to the world than poetry does – So, I appreciate the outwardness of the idea here, even as I bristle at the tone. GG and all of us benefit from our lil dream inside the bigger dream. And I think that being on the line between dreaming and waking is the kind of tense experience of ‘reading reality’ that poetry persists in offering. Or, as F. Gander put it in Make Magazine (paraphrase) – poetry doesn’t have to matter to everyone to matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Instead of where post avant poetry is going, I find myself these days wondering about why the Flarf movement is so white. Why "post avant" poetries are so white. Why is the Chicago innovative writing scene so white? Why for instance is there so little crossover between the scene surrounding the Palabra Pura reading series in Chicago and the experimental scene (Myopic series or Series A or Danny's Tavern). Why has there historically been so few women in the European and North and Latin American avant garde poetry scenes? Why is the spoken word scene at Nuyorican so much more ethnically and culturally diverse than the St Mark's crowd and why is the spoken word scene in Chicago whiter than white? Why did so few "experimental" poets write anti-war poems? How are some so sycophantic: why do they need an iterative white transgressive hero, a Ginsberg, a Spicer, a Berrigan, an Ashbery? or a white masculinely safe heroine, Stein, Moore, Bishop. Why do people keep reading the same writers over and over, even when they're ridiculously boring and shticky and predictable (Ashbery) or they know their poems by heart already? Why do so few study the anthropology and/or sociology of literary scenes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, for all of GG’s interest in history, he doesn’t seem to understand Chicago very well. The segregation of Chicago is corrosive, and really got into my mind in a troubling and destructive way when I lived there. I’m glad he raises these questions, though. Also, why conflate this with all the sniping? I mean, JA is snipe-able, as are many of these other writers, but they are part of the compost library, much as many other unnamed writers unincluded also are. And, btw, I can’t think of a more boring subject than the anthropology/sociology of literary scenes. That said, the SF world really is engaged with some of these ideas – I’m not totally convinced by a lot of the projects that come out of that engagement, but it troubles the mind, post-avanty or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By way of conclusion, and solution, GG offers this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I think a really fruitful way of doing the above is to develop a loving heart. A loving heart is an open heart. An open heart catalyzes a flourishing, courageous mind. I do think Emerson is right when he says in "Friendship” that "our intellectual and active powers increase with our affection&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I don’t disagree, but what I find missing is a sense of work. This sounds like the kind of false comfort many East Bay hippies find in slogans like “your contagious enthusiasm for justice will influence millions.” Bosh. Also missing is cosmic humor. None of these is missing from the Rhode Island Notebook, and many of the ideas herein included are explored in a much more, er, beautiful and emotional manner in the book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the Rhode Island Notebook, and it is undoubtedly one of the most important books of poetry to come out in my time. That said, GG gives us a lot to argue with here, and for that, thanks, dude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-973187910048517481?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/973187910048517481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=973187910048517481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/973187910048517481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/973187910048517481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/02/article-and-interview-whistling-past.html' title='An Article and An Interview, Whistling Past One Another'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6114114152459167422</id><published>2009-02-22T10:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T10:30:54.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OK, Awake Enough Now, We Were There</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Maybe had a reading in Chicago. It was quite fun and terrific. It looked kind of like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SaGZQXbApFI/AAAAAAAAAFc/OKzW6yh8wxo/s1600-h/JSReading.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SaGZQXbApFI/AAAAAAAAAFc/OKzW6yh8wxo/s320/JSReading.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305690342463415378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, in our minds, looked a bit more like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SaGZduVL2qI/AAAAAAAAAFk/DBbA3i2LQrc/s1600-h/Lightheademanations.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SaGZduVL2qI/AAAAAAAAAFk/DBbA3i2LQrc/s320/Lightheademanations.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305690571951299234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to see/meet lots of friends, old and new. Thanks, Dear Rusty Chicago, for your hospitality. And, also, to the fine staff and the Wiener's Circle for not yelling at us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6114114152459167422?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6114114152459167422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6114114152459167422' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6114114152459167422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6114114152459167422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/02/ok-awake-enough-now-we-were-there.html' title='OK, Awake Enough Now, We Were There'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SaGZQXbApFI/AAAAAAAAAFc/OKzW6yh8wxo/s72-c/JSReading.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-4280211860840882090</id><published>2009-02-05T11:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T11:52:29.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i’m just not interested in human gestures at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-4280211860840882090?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/4280211860840882090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=4280211860840882090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4280211860840882090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4280211860840882090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-just-not-interested-in-human.html' title=''/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5405587533388991188</id><published>2009-02-04T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T13:08:57.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OMFG! Titanoboa!</title><content type='html'>Ah! 42 foot long &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/7868588.stm"&gt;fossil snake&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5405587533388991188?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5405587533388991188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5405587533388991188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5405587533388991188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5405587533388991188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/02/omfg-titanoboa.html' title='OMFG! Titanoboa!'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2576149608737199416</id><published>2009-02-02T21:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T10:36:20.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs Maybe #2 is now available.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SYiOnuiXl_I/AAAAAAAAAFU/oQR5wFzg9Qo/s1600-h/n583143984_1398964_7117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SYiOnuiXl_I/AAAAAAAAAFU/oQR5wFzg9Qo/s320/n583143984_1398964_7117.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298641774759614450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It includes poems written by the following admirable dragons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; Bill Luoma, Alli Warren, Sawako Nakayasu, Catherine Meng, Elisabeth Beasley, James Shea, Logan Ryan Smith, Daniel Ostmann,Cynthia Sailers, Joseph Massey &amp;amp; Jess Mynes,      Genevieve Kaplan, Erin Morrill, Brandon Shimoda, Andrew Kenower, Dorothea Lasky, Christopher DeWeese, Trevor Calvert,  Claire Becker, Jessica Baron, Nathan Hoks &lt;/p&gt;and letters to Mrs. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can order copies of the magazine at &lt;a rel="nofollow" target="_blank" href="http://mrs-maybe.com/"&gt; &lt;span&gt;mrs-maybe.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; where we have a Paypal button in a workaday goldenrod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you live in Chicago, or will be visiting the bo-piz, Please consider&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mrs. Maybe #2 Launch Party &amp;amp; Reading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;C-33 Gallery, &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial; cursor: pointer;"&gt;Columbia College Chicago&lt;/span&gt; 33 E. Congress (First Floor)&lt;br /&gt;Date &amp;amp; time: &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1233638089_5"&gt;Friday, February 13th 4:00-6:00pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lauren Levin, Catherine Meng, and Jared Stanley, Editors.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2576149608737199416?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2576149608737199416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2576149608737199416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2576149608737199416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2576149608737199416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/02/mrs-maybe-2-is-now-available.html' title='Mrs Maybe #2 is now available.'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SYiOnuiXl_I/AAAAAAAAAFU/oQR5wFzg9Qo/s72-c/n583143984_1398964_7117.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1118545609272885642</id><published>2009-02-02T14:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T14:55:04.887-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pugilism</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://workingforthecity.blogspot.com"&gt;Studio One. In Oakland. Round 11.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SYd5gDus6-I/AAAAAAAAAFM/TIvS06Fji0s/s1600-h/POETRYSERIES_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SYd5gDus6-I/AAAAAAAAAFM/TIvS06Fji0s/s320/POETRYSERIES_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298337078288640994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1118545609272885642?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1118545609272885642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1118545609272885642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1118545609272885642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1118545609272885642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/02/pugilism.html' title='Pugilism'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SYd5gDus6-I/AAAAAAAAAFM/TIvS06Fji0s/s72-c/POETRYSERIES_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-7929386191848037178</id><published>2009-01-26T12:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T12:08:33.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ponytail</title><content type='html'>Sorry to veer, but you know what's great? Ponytail:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGpuC5I3jB4"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yGpuC5I3jB4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-7929386191848037178?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/7929386191848037178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=7929386191848037178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7929386191848037178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7929386191848037178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/01/ponytail.html' title='Ponytail'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2670832542057606402</id><published>2009-01-24T12:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T12:48:30.045-08:00</updated><title type='text'>details</title><content type='html'>mrs. maybe is in production.  tony claims to feel centered on the floor next to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have&lt;br /&gt;-gotten 4500 sheets of soft white paper so not quite so blinding as the white with the banana cover&lt;br /&gt;-redone the website, mostly, mostly by imitating and copying from my own crappy skills learned for the first issue, reverberation, i already told andrew not to look at it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a few more details being thought with and between editors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am a pisces, if it were up to me each detail would take a few months, with absent-mindedness and extra intervening details stretching each one out, appropriately my hands in the picture jared posted up there look like they have a few extra fingers crammed into them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;excited to hear scott read at artifact tonight!  he has something for us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2670832542057606402?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2670832542057606402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2670832542057606402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2670832542057606402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2670832542057606402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/01/details.html' title='details'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-7850347637083178317</id><published>2009-01-16T13:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T10:37:46.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mrs. Maybe Goes to Chicago</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SXD7dFxghxI/AAAAAAAAAE0/wn9MYPRDQuo/s1600-h/4718.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 166px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SXD7dFxghxI/AAAAAAAAAE0/wn9MYPRDQuo/s320/4718.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292006039344940818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mrs. Maybe #2 Launch Party &amp;amp; Reading&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;C-33 Gallery, &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1232141039_1"&gt;Columbia College Chicago&lt;/span&gt; 33 E. Congress (First Floor)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date &amp;amp; time: Friday, February 13th 4:00-6:00pm&lt;br /&gt;Free&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Maybe, A Journal of Skeptical Occultism, presents readings from contributors and co-conspirators including Jessica Savitz, Catherine Theis, James Shea, Jessica Baron, Erin Morrill, Christopher DeWeese, and Laura Sims.  Jared and Lauren to host.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Maybe is published in Northern California and edited by Lauren Levin, Catherine Meng, and Jared Stanley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-7850347637083178317?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/7850347637083178317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=7850347637083178317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7850347637083178317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7850347637083178317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/01/mrs-maybe-goes-to-chicago.html' title='Mrs. Maybe Goes to Chicago'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SXD7dFxghxI/AAAAAAAAAE0/wn9MYPRDQuo/s72-c/4718.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-3951881497593771487</id><published>2009-01-16T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T10:38:16.983-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Issue #2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SXD4DhJ5AUI/AAAAAAAAAEs/h7xKJlxZ0cM/s1600-h/3097571758_b33e6732bb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SXD4DhJ5AUI/AAAAAAAAAEs/h7xKJlxZ0cM/s320/3097571758_b33e6732bb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292002301483483458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Maybe's second issue is almost done. This is the cover. We would also like you to know that Catherine Meng is our new, third, co-editor. She's been a great help, and brings with her a spirit of amity and adventure. This issue includes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;a href="http://mrs-maybe.com/billluoma.htm"&gt;Bill Luoma &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Alli Warren&lt;br /&gt;     Sawako Nakayasu&lt;br /&gt;     Catherine Meng&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;a href="http://mrs-maybe.com/elisabethbeasley.htm"&gt;Elisabeth Beasley&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     James Shea&lt;br /&gt;     Logan Ryan Smith&lt;br /&gt;     Daniel Ostmann&lt;br /&gt;     Cynthia Sailers&lt;br /&gt;     Joseph Massey &amp;amp; Jess Mynes&lt;br /&gt;     Genevieve Kaplan&lt;br /&gt;     Erin Morrill&lt;br /&gt;     Brandon Shimoda&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;a href="http://mrs-maybe.com/andrewkenower.htm"&gt;Andrew Kenower &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Dorothea Lasky&lt;br /&gt;   Christopher DeWeese&lt;br /&gt;     Trevor Calvert&lt;br /&gt;     Claire Becker&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;a href="http://mrs-maybe.com/Jessica%20Baron.htm"&gt;Jessica Baron&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Nathan Hoks &lt;/p&gt;and letters to Mrs. Maybe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-3951881497593771487?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/3951881497593771487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=3951881497593771487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3951881497593771487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3951881497593771487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/01/issues-2.html' title='Issue #2'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SXD4DhJ5AUI/AAAAAAAAAEs/h7xKJlxZ0cM/s72-c/3097571758_b33e6732bb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-596363567598140973</id><published>2009-01-12T12:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T11:49:20.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>RICKEY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SWujtwbh_zI/AAAAAAAAAEk/nef23ewF3Ss/s1600-h/12jhenderson-337.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SWujtwbh_zI/AAAAAAAAAEk/nef23ewF3Ss/s320/12jhenderson-337.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290502193766596402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This man is a hero to my brother and I - &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/13/sports/baseball/13hall.html?_r=1&amp;amp;hp"&gt;Hall Of Fame!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-596363567598140973?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/596363567598140973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=596363567598140973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/596363567598140973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/596363567598140973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2009/01/ricky.html' title='RICKEY!'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SWujtwbh_zI/AAAAAAAAAEk/nef23ewF3Ss/s72-c/12jhenderson-337.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1582128607481010455</id><published>2008-12-30T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T10:22:10.173-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Harold Stanley-Oda, 2006-2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SVpmxCyXPMI/AAAAAAAAAEc/owFT5S3uBjA/s1600-h/1029985547_a4f4fab2e2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SVpmxCyXPMI/AAAAAAAAAEc/owFT5S3uBjA/s320/1029985547_a4f4fab2e2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285650105420430530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RABBIT DIRT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wakes me up to run&lt;br /&gt;grassy fawning little dust&lt;br /&gt;where he digs a hole&lt;br /&gt;fig or gingko&lt;br /&gt;it’s scaly on the back of my neck&lt;br /&gt;the chewed corners of books&lt;br /&gt;quietly in the grip&lt;br /&gt;of a louder-type development&lt;br /&gt;the head cocks and the eye&lt;br /&gt;from the side of the head&lt;br /&gt;implacable, as sea-green as dirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;equally biological&lt;br /&gt;coffee spilt on the needlepoint birches&lt;br /&gt;how is the being noble going?&lt;br /&gt;It’s peopling questions.&lt;br /&gt;The tomato horn worm;&lt;br /&gt;when you cut it in half&lt;br /&gt;it squirts green blood.&lt;br /&gt;Our morning buzzards&lt;br /&gt;between telephone and cypress&lt;br /&gt;are the greased air;&lt;br /&gt;the nose constantly&lt;br /&gt;working a patched-together sense,&lt;br /&gt;brokedown, of the scenario—&lt;br /&gt;for once the mockingbird&lt;br /&gt;is quieter than his wings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To watch and watch and so&lt;br /&gt;to turn and turn again&lt;br /&gt;this desert view from all sides&lt;br /&gt;more cool this year – I’m scared&lt;br /&gt;it’s a form of respect I been working on&lt;br /&gt;where twists the story&lt;br /&gt;like his speed in leaping&lt;br /&gt;could it be heard&lt;br /&gt;the way we heard?&lt;br /&gt;Respect’s not an easy hole to dig&lt;br /&gt;to cancel a cancelling wind&lt;br /&gt;timothy hay floats in the mug&lt;br /&gt;the scene quivers foxtails&lt;br /&gt;we were all having a sweat together&lt;br /&gt;including the alley’s sumac&lt;br /&gt;the heat left his ears&lt;br /&gt;in food-destroying weather&lt;br /&gt;full of slack translations&lt;br /&gt;the weird creases bodies get&lt;br /&gt;so much in my nose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1582128607481010455?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1582128607481010455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1582128607481010455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1582128607481010455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1582128607481010455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/12/harold-stanley-oda-2006-2008.html' title='Harold Stanley-Oda, 2006-2008'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SVpmxCyXPMI/AAAAAAAAAEc/owFT5S3uBjA/s72-c/1029985547_a4f4fab2e2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1092817991767565155</id><published>2008-12-21T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T13:18:19.307-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the next last admiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forthcoming'/><title type='text'>the best friends write the best books</title><content type='html'>the best people and the best poems,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jared's book will be on all our shelves!  this is a suitable topic for venturing out on a blog promontory again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jessica's book will be strewn atop our record collections!  that could bring a person out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in honor, and because i am reading bill luoma's works and days, i am thinking of some memory scraps of jessica and jared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  when i met jared, i thought he was a jerk because he was shouting and giving nicknames to bars.  it turns out that he is kind (and spazzy) (and i am judgmental).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  when i met jessica she was sitting on the floor surrounded by thousands of heaps of uncollated xeroxes she was putting in packets one by one by one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  when i met jessica and we became friends it was in the library and she was at the water fountain wearing tiny running shorts and a san antonio t-shirt with a ram's head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  jared would wear a t-shirt with a sheepdog head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  jessica, who used to not have a phone and used to not have the internet and eventually coped with it by having it be a game called the INTERNET (like OFFICE was a game for working) now has an ebay store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  jared has and has had a mega-domestic space like duncan and jess, fiestaware.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  jessica showcases arrangements, like 70s moods distilled on dressers and tables, similar to her mix tapes, and reminiscent of her ebay store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  i asked jared if california was 'dusty' and 'golden'. jared said yes and steve said no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  jared's ongoing mark e. smith impression&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  jd savitz - asceticism, beer; buttered mac n cheese fervor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 - hey amorist, tune your radio to 84.6!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--lauren&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1092817991767565155?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1092817991767565155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1092817991767565155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1092817991767565155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1092817991767565155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/12/best-friends-write-best-books.html' title='the best friends write the best books'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-7926740851844320593</id><published>2008-12-18T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T10:25:44.846-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night, I came to a city in Northern England, which was intensely orderly, and was on a beach, and which I could see from above - the streest were grids of evergreen shrubbery. Anyway, Mer and I came to the place, and were hanging out with this British couple in T-Shirts. We were in a room with that sickly yellow flourescent interior lights, and we could see lots of blemishes. The British couple took us to a bookstore, and on the way to the bookstore, someone in a trench coat slipped a photocopied sheaf into my hand and kept walking in the other direction. The document consisted of photocopied pages from a book - it was an article from an academic journal, a review of Mrs. Maybe #1. The author's first name began with an M, which is all I can remember - I was mortified - the review had numbered points it wanted to make about Mrs. Maybe. But now I can't remember what the review said. It started out bad, and got much better, that's what I remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, we went to the beach. I rudely pushed some dowager over on the promenade because she wasn't making room for our beach chairs. I immediately felt guilty. We saw two dolphins swimming in the shallows - they were being chased by a mako and a hammerhead, which were in turn being chased by a golden eagle and a black hawk - (these last two were swimming). The water was clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-7926740851844320593?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/7926740851844320593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=7926740851844320593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7926740851844320593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7926740851844320593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/12/dream.html' title='Dream'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5576988022612816987</id><published>2008-12-03T20:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T20:42:12.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And This Skull, Reading on Friday, New Book Just Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/STdd9oZWRvI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ozk85enWYQc/s1600-h/In+Praise+of+Folly+mask.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/STdd9oZWRvI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ozk85enWYQc/s320/In+Praise+of+Folly+mask.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275788801884964594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Um, Motherfuckin', yeah, Hell Yeah: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dear Jack&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;a href="http://latinopoetryreview.blogspot.com/"&gt;upon us &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="style6"&gt;Scott Inguito &amp;amp; The Sonneteers &lt;/span&gt;(Ben &amp;amp; Sandra Doller)       &lt;p&gt;Friday, December 5, 7:30 p.m.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Scott Inguito&lt;/b&gt; lives in San Francisco, teaches in San Jose, and paints in his garage. His most recent project is called &lt;i&gt;PANDAFUCK&lt;/i&gt;, a suite of poems inspired by the pointless, the ill-tuned yet well-intentioned, the black and white of it all. &lt;i&gt;Dear Jack (&lt;/i&gt;2008), a book of poems, is out on Momotombo Press. You can find his paintings at scottinguito.com&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sandra Doller&lt;/b&gt; (née Miller) has a new name. Her first book &lt;i&gt;Oriflamme &lt;/i&gt;was published by Ahsahta Press in 2005, and her second collection &lt;i&gt;Chora&lt;/i&gt; is forthcoming from Ahsahta in 2010. Sandra Doller is the founder &amp;amp; editrice of a fancy magazine &amp;amp; press, the curiously named 1913. She teaches at Cal State San Marcos and lives way out west with her man, Ben Doller (né Doyle) and their pup Ronald Johnson.&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ben Doller&lt;/b&gt; (né Doyle)’s first book of poems, &lt;i&gt;Radio, Radio&lt;/i&gt;, was selected by Susan Howe as winner of the 2000 Walt Whitman Award. His second book, &lt;i&gt;FAQ:&lt;/i&gt;, will be published by Ahsahta Press in 2009, and his third book, &lt;i&gt;Dead Ahead,&lt;/i&gt; is forthcoming from Fence Books. He co-edits the Kuhl House Contemporary Poets series and teaches in Antioch’s Low-Res MFA program. Wherever he lives, he lives with his lady, Sandra Doller (née Miller) and their boxador, Ronald Johnson. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5576988022612816987?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5576988022612816987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5576988022612816987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5576988022612816987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5576988022612816987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-this-skull-reading-on-friday.html' title='And This Skull, Reading on Friday, New Book Just Out'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/STdd9oZWRvI/AAAAAAAAAEE/ozk85enWYQc/s72-c/In+Praise+of+Folly+mask.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5167502801880886146</id><published>2008-11-14T08:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T08:59:49.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Bolano? Ben Ehrenreich Articulates it Pretty Well</title><content type='html'>Behind the goofy hijinks is a wary, already heartbroken version of the insurrectionary spirit that had sent Bolaño to Allende’s Chile: “Our ethics is Revolution, our esthetics is Life: one-single thing,” he writes in a Breton-inspired &lt;i&gt;First Infrarealist Manifesto&lt;/i&gt;. The depths of his political disillusion are apparent enough (“We dreamt of utopia and woke up screaming.”), but he’s hardly cynical. For all his posturing, the young Bolaño is arguing for a passionate, uncompromising commitment to poetry-as-liberation. His legions of fascist antiheroes will demonstrate again and again that purity is murderous. Transcendence stinks. Poetry that seeks it—the lyrical, the epic—reeks of dishonesty. Only the fleeting can be trusted. If it means anything, poetry means resistance, stoic courage. “The true poet is the one who is always abandoning himself,” Bolaño writes. “Leave it all behind, again,” his manifesto ends. “Take it to the road.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5167502801880886146?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5167502801880886146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5167502801880886146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5167502801880886146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5167502801880886146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-bolano-ben-ehrenreich-articulates.html' title='Why Bolano? Ben Ehrenreich Articulates it Pretty Well'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-4171199488435384315</id><published>2008-11-13T10:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T10:49:03.185-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anticipation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 22px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;"To amplify the mysterious title “2666” Mr. Echevarría quotes a 1999 Bolaño story, one that cites 'a cemetery in the year 2666, a forgotten cemetery under the eyelid of a corpse or an unborn child, bathed in the dispassionate fluids of an eye that tried so hard to forget one particular thing that it ended up forgetting everything else.'"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-4171199488435384315?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/4171199488435384315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=4171199488435384315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4171199488435384315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4171199488435384315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/11/anticipation.html' title='Anticipation'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6117012804313093778</id><published>2008-11-07T15:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T15:16:38.211-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Artist" as "Artists"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SRTMNXQUwwI/AAAAAAAAAD8/rQMGcpZQfSY/s1600-h/IMG_0311.JPG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SRTMNXQUwwI/AAAAAAAAAD8/rQMGcpZQfSY/s320/IMG_0311.JPG.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266058394255803138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6117012804313093778?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6117012804313093778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6117012804313093778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6117012804313093778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6117012804313093778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/11/artist-as-artists.html' title='&quot;Artist&quot; as &quot;Artists&quot;'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SRTMNXQUwwI/AAAAAAAAAD8/rQMGcpZQfSY/s72-c/IMG_0311.JPG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1486106567311462188</id><published>2008-09-29T11:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T11:01:15.386-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the last admiration'/><title type='text'>For The California Academy of Sciences</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Garamond;"&gt;Its shells, its discards, for John McClosker and Belva Davis, for Richard Ellis, two headed albino things, for alligators floating beneath Doric columns, for the unsmelling carpet in the fish rotunda, for the inglorious Salvation Army band in the bandshell looking out over well-trimmed mulberries resembling huge knuckled bones of an extinct giant raven, for matrons and children and expatriates, for the park, which seemed, with its giant ferns and fire pines, like the last bastion of dinosaurs with maces for tails, no dead leaves among the Cypress, for &lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"&gt;Tales of the City&lt;/i&gt; on KQED, for the resumption of ferry service, 1989, for the Embarcadero Freeway and its shadows on the now-too-bright Ferry Building, for our babysitter’s uncle, a Welsh paraplegic who lived in the Sunset, that treeless place the dinosaurs escaped, and sailed alone to Hawaii, for the curious orange-yellow plastic window that mimicked old time windows made of beer bottles, somehow everywhere in those days, for apartment life and banana trees in atriums, like Basho’s, unproductive, elephant’s ears, for the Purple Onion when Tom in the sailor’s suit ran it, he slept on plywood suspended between sawhorses on the dancefloor – once we woke him up, and he played Jesus and Mary Chain 45s on a Fisher-Price portable record player; most of all, for Jon Moritsugu. It might be something physical, in every age and every nation, the redwood wars, the requiem shark, representing forces we just don’t understand. Tell me about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"&gt;-Jared&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Garamond;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1486106567311462188?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1486106567311462188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1486106567311462188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1486106567311462188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1486106567311462188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/09/for-california-academy-of-sciences.html' title='For The California Academy of Sciences'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-4817567911105931238</id><published>2008-09-26T11:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T11:26:01.392-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Head, on the front page of the Merced Sun Star</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:verdana;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;center style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://media.mercedsunstar.com/smedia/2008/09/26/05/861-carbon.rotate.prod_affiliate.111.jpg" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; " /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div id="rotate_image_asset_caption" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; float: left; font-size: 10px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 5px; "&gt;Bike enthusiasts gather at the UC Merced Joseph E. Gallo Recreation and Wellness Center on Saturday morning for tips on riding and maintaining their bikes. The clinic was put on by the UC Merced Cycling Alliance and Merced Bike Coalition, which aim to raise interest in the benefits of cycling, including its positive impact on the environment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="rotate_image_asset_caption" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; float: left; font-size: 10px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 5px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 5px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;That's my head and also body, bent over, second from left. blue jersey, black cap. To my left, my former student Elliot Block, who's started the student cycling club. We're working on the brakes of Amelia Herrera's bike, also another former student. Superstars, these kidz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-4817567911105931238?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/4817567911105931238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=4817567911105931238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4817567911105931238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4817567911105931238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-head-on-front-page-of-merced-sun.html' title='My Head, on the front page of the Merced Sun Star'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1854642478306536731</id><published>2008-09-24T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T10:18:43.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ah, yes, this is the way it's done</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 12px; "&gt;&lt;div id="story_header" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; clear: both; margin-bottom: 10px; "&gt;&lt;h1 style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: left; font-size: 17px; "&gt;Nephew of Merced County district attorney accused of stabbing attack&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h2 style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: left; font-size: 14px; "&gt;Merced police say Matthew Morse slashed man with knife; investigators also find 37-inch knife with 25-inch blade&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;h4 class="byline" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-size: 10px; "&gt;By VICTOR A. PATTON&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:vpatton@mercedsun-star.com" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; color: rgb(0, 51, 153); text-decoration: none; "&gt;vpatton@mercedsun-star.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="story_body" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;A 22-year-old man who is the nephew of District Attorney Larry Morse II was arrested Friday on suspicion of assault with a deadly weapon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;Matthew Edward Morse was arrested by Merced police after he was accused of slashing a 28-year-old man in the arm with a knife. The stabbing was reported in the parking lot of Save Mart at 180 W. Olive Ave., according to Cmdr. Floyd Higdon of the Merced Police Department.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;Because the suspect in the case is his nephew, Morse said an attorney from the state Attorney General's Office will handle the case. Morse called the arrest of his nephew heartbreaking. "I love him, but he's going to have to account for the full consequences of his actions like anyone else," Morse said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;Larry Morse said the suspect is the son of his brother, Brian Morse.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;Police responded to the scene after they received a call that a man wearing a toga had stabbed the victim, leaving the area in a silver SUV-type vehicle, Higdon said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;The victim, who was sitting in the parking lot when police arrived, had two 1-inch deep slices in his left arm, Higdon said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;The victim reported that the stabbing happened after the suspect had verbally insulted his wife and circled the couple in his car, eventually coming to a stop, Higdon said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;The victim then approached the suspect, who was sitting in his car, asking him, "What's up?" The man in the SUV, according to the victim, then slashed him with the knife. After being cut, the victim said, he punched the man in the mouth. The suspect then left the scene.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;Matthew Morse was later identified as a suspect after the victim picked him out of a photo lineup. He was found at a toga party in the 3000 block of Park Avenue and taken into custody, Higdon said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;The victim, who received 30 stitches in his arm to close both wounds, also reported that there was a passenger seated in the car with Matthew Morse. Higdon said that person was not involved in the altercation.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;Police also recovered a 37-inch-long knife with a 25-inch blade, which was hidden in bushes at the Park Avenue location, Higdon said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; clear: left; margin-bottom: 10px; font-size: 1em; "&gt;Matthew Morse gave no statement to police, Higdon said. He remains at the John Latorraca Correctional Center in lieu of $30,000 bail.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1854642478306536731?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1854642478306536731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1854642478306536731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1854642478306536731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1854642478306536731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/09/ah-yes-this-is-way-its-done.html' title='ah, yes, this is the way it&apos;s done'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-820727443814871687</id><published>2008-09-12T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T09:53:18.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eh! Be Pissed! But Don't Worry!</title><content type='html'>Hey Peeps!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't blink - The Obama campaign's a little tired, but, as Gail Collins says in &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/11/opinion/11collins.html?em"&gt;her column&lt;/a&gt; in the Times yesterday, over here on the coast we don't see all the work that happening. So don't stress, and don't blink - don't let the bulllies steal your lunch money! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-820727443814871687?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/820727443814871687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=820727443814871687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/820727443814871687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/820727443814871687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/09/eh-be-pissed-but-dont-worry.html' title='Eh! Be Pissed! But Don&apos;t Worry!'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-439889931636042185</id><published>2008-09-05T17:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T18:08:39.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Opening the Opening</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SMHWOoibdvI/AAAAAAAAADI/vuoIV8zCAnE/s1600-h/typedraw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SMHWOoibdvI/AAAAAAAAADI/vuoIV8zCAnE/s320/typedraw.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242706988124305138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha Ha! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The "Poets on Paper" opening was pretty fantastic. My class ended at 3:50pm, in Merced (123 mi from SF) - I rode my bicycle 7mi from campus to my house, sweating profusely as it was somewhere about 101 fahreneheit - packed a couple of last minute things, got in the car and set out on HWY 99, cruise control set on 65mph, and ac set on 2.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The opening was set to begin at 6:30, and I left Mercytown at 4. after a lil traffic in Castro Valley, I finally crossed the Bay Bridge right as the introductory movie treacle for Cindy McCain began. Oh, very terrible! So I switched to KALX, the UC Berkeley radio station. The gentlemen dj began talking about how the music would get all the 'playa dust' out of listeners' skin (playa, as in Burning Man, as in, the most hippie thing I've heard on KALX in at least a decade). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rolled up to the gallery, Canessa, which is in North Beach, apparently once on the edge of Yerba Buena Cove. I missed some people I'd like to have seen. Clayton Banes, for example. He's such a nice guy. So, I got in there, got to chatting with w/Brent C. and a fella that I recognize from Moe's Books. He had a nice Blue Oyster Cult t-shirt, and I asked him whether he was a fan. Sadly, no. I didn't think I could properly describe why BOC is essential. and important listening for the poet, thought I wanted to. If you're out there, email Mrs Maybe and let's chat about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Scott did a great job hanging our Typewriter Drawings - they looked real good. Also, a few of the panels (as you can see from the photo) have asterisks which are hard to see from a distance, and it was real great to see people get real close to the work. It made the work make even more sense in the gallery, fortuitously enough. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had a nice chat with Earle and Sandra, about riding the train through the Central Valley. A nice chat w/Brent about pragmatism and utopian drawing and architecture, and w/Megan about a writers' retreat at my house, and the word "upthrusty."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afterward, Scott and I drove home, listenting to that Slavoj Zizek on the radio. Pretty interesting, and has that ol' E. Euro Intellectual voice that makes 'em slobber in the Bay Area. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had burritos and talked about how much San Francisco has changed since the 80s/90s. Makes my writing pretty much always in the grief zone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, funny to be doing visual art. I'm so glad Scott goaded me into it, and sort of surprised that it's not exactly horrible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Jared &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-439889931636042185?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/439889931636042185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=439889931636042185' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/439889931636042185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/439889931636042185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/09/opening-opening.html' title='Opening the Opening'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SMHWOoibdvI/AAAAAAAAADI/vuoIV8zCAnE/s72-c/typedraw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6872687392287029866</id><published>2008-08-26T14:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T16:20:25.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Poets on Paper," Canessa Gallery, September</title><content type='html'>POETS ON PAPER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Works by 5 Poet-Artists&lt;br /&gt;at the Canessa Gallery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_0"&gt;September 1&lt;/span&gt;-October 1, 2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brent Cunningham&lt;br /&gt;Cassandra Smith&lt;br /&gt;Dan Fisher&lt;br /&gt;Scott Inguito &amp;amp; Jared Stanley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_1"&gt;Opening Night&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_2"&gt;Thursday, September 4&lt;br /&gt;6:30pm-9:00pm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(during the "First Thursdays" SF Art Crawl)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Canessa Gallery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_3"&gt;708 Montgomery Street&lt;br /&gt;San Francisco, CA 94111&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_4"&gt;415.392.1768&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Works Online:&lt;br /&gt;B. Cunningham: &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://brentcunningham.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_5"&gt;http://brentcunningham.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D. Fisher: &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://fishfishtofferson.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_6"&gt;http://fishfishtofferson.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C.  Smith: &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://flickr.com/photos/violetedison/sets"&gt;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_7"&gt;http://flickr.com/photos/violetedison/sets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J. Stanley: &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://www.mrs-maybe.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_8"&gt;http://www.mrs-maybe.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S. Inguito:  &lt;a target="_blank" href="http://www.scottinguito.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1219787720_9"&gt;http://www.scottinguito.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6872687392287029866?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6872687392287029866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6872687392287029866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6872687392287029866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6872687392287029866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/08/suggested-subject-line-poets-on-paper.html' title='&quot;Poets on Paper,&quot; Canessa Gallery, September'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-4165365287942495991</id><published>2008-08-14T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T17:04:50.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Slow Poetics of Fossil Fuel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SKTIGPvCFcI/AAAAAAAAADA/L5mwzMlbXjM/s1600-h/bullsh.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SKTIGPvCFcI/AAAAAAAAADA/L5mwzMlbXjM/s320/bullsh.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234528676539930050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-4165365287942495991?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/4165365287942495991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=4165365287942495991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4165365287942495991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4165365287942495991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/08/slow-poetics-of-fossil-fuel.html' title='The Slow Poetics of Fossil Fuel'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SKTIGPvCFcI/AAAAAAAAADA/L5mwzMlbXjM/s72-c/bullsh.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1082726986052115227</id><published>2008-08-14T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T17:00:52.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Text Message From Inguito</title><content type='html'>new art movement 'hopeless grostesquerie' - an art in which the artist knows that nature is laughing at his/her crudity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1082726986052115227?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1082726986052115227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1082726986052115227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1082726986052115227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1082726986052115227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/08/text-message-from-inguito.html' title='Text Message From Inguito'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6490483040450110990</id><published>2008-08-13T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T16:16:01.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And Again, Back</title><content type='html'>Hey Hey,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew - back from the big bicycle trip. My legs feel like stumps, and I have a persistent sore throat from inhaling diesel smoke, way out in "nature." In a state park, in a redwood grove, someone was watching a sitcom in a tent with the volume way up high. Scratch an American.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting back into the questions and answers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lauren writes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why isn't the paglen work about uncovering?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an X-Files fan, I'll just say that uncovering and uncovering do nothing. There's no power in it, just paranoia, and I think Paglen's reportage and romanticism are winking at it. "It's not a secret weapon if no one knows about it" &amp;amp;c. &amp;amp;c.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just that the romanticism of the night sky seems to keep that stuff 'endarkened.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, on to the subject of having a poetics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy, those posts, esp. D. Bellamy's were pretty awe-inspiring. I think I prefer D.'s take on things. That Gossip then becomes history. It reminds me of Stein's hilarious "Remarks are not literature" - which really should be on a post-it above every blogger's screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a quick, and really inadequate, response, I guess, in general, it's probably good and healthy not to make too many pronouncements. On the other hand, making a pronouncement gives you a side to be on, and then you can be a double-agent. I do want to say that 'negative capability' persists, despite Johannes' statement, and who cares? I think things can be simple and negative c. at the same time, probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can we be pragmatists about it? Is there a practical poetics?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's probably fine to have a speculative poetics, but I think it would be fun to look at specifics and see how practical problems of poem making are ventured by a given poets. I think Rhubarb is Susan can be kind of dumb and really bro, sometimes, but the guy is specific. I've been teaching scientists too long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6490483040450110990?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6490483040450110990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6490483040450110990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6490483040450110990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6490483040450110990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-again-back.html' title='And Again, Back'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-8668836056886019143</id><published>2008-08-04T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T10:12:50.634-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tips derived from claire'/><title type='text'>Yikes, Yeeks, Great Scott</title><content type='html'>am i the only person who didn't know about &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LINK%2B"&gt;link +&lt;/a&gt;? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in case there is another semi-recent california arrival who feels that she can't find the books she wants without teaching at or attending a college (or begging her university friends to cart them over from merced or san jose), and that person reads the mrs. maybe blog, here it is again, &lt;a href="http://csul.iii.com/"&gt;link +&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-8668836056886019143?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/8668836056886019143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=8668836056886019143' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/8668836056886019143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/8668836056886019143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/08/yikes-yeeks-great-scott.html' title='Yikes, Yeeks, Great Scott'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-3865699803091057466</id><published>2008-07-26T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T11:19:35.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL</title><content type='html'>Lauren reads 2-nite at &lt;a href="http://artifactseries.blogspot.com/"&gt;Artifact!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-3865699803091057466?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/3865699803091057466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=3865699803091057466' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3865699803091057466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3865699803091057466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/07/lllllllllllllllllllllll.html' title='LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6160229629107862393</id><published>2008-07-25T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T10:26:02.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>add</title><content type='html'>dear catherine, jared, &amp;amp; megan,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to add this to the discussion:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wars, Threesomes, Drafts, &amp;amp; Mothers &lt;/span&gt;by Heriberto Yépez &amp;amp; found his &lt;a href="http://www.ubu.com/ethno/discourses/yepez.html"&gt;statement on ethnopoetics&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i am going to talk about poetics statements so here are a few things i was reading and considering in that context by &lt;a href="http://fascicle.com/issue02/essays/bellamy1.htm"&gt;Dodie Bellamy&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://fascicle.com/issue02/essays/moriartyatonalist.htm"&gt;Laura Moriarty&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://exoskeleton-johannes.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html"&gt;Johannes Göransson&lt;/a&gt; (thinking specifically of the "Poetics of Overdeterminacy" post)  &lt;a href="http://fascicle.com/issue02/essays/moriartyatonalist.htm"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, sorry for the move to the meta, but all yesterday i kept thinking about ways of constructing discourse around poetics/project statements.  i bothered claire on the phone w/it for much time.  anyway, i worry that i sounded too flip/dismissive when i gave that off-hand mention of 'problems with having a poetics'.  trying to think it through, i think the deal is more a tonal one for me, i appreciate in poetics statements or articulations of positions or whatever when there is a acknowledgment of other types of thinking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't mean that people should say 'every way of thinking about poetry is equally the same'.  actually, i was trying to articulate this to jared a while back, i like when the rhetoric of manifestos is over-the-top oppositional, because there's an element of performance and excess there that lets some air into the situation.  (j and i evolved a short-hand for this element of excess in performance of a position.  it's called robert duncan's cape.  based on a cape worn by robert duncan.)  i also appreciate when people articulate what is personal in the evolution of an aesthetic - what is personally being responded against. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or when there is a sense of access to information being built up, for others to use.  Like when Stephanie Young was talking about ways to bring 60s and 70s feminist art practice back into contemporary thinking - that seemed like an open question to excitedly glom onto - or what Joyelle McSweeney and   Johannes Göransson do w/Action Books in giving access to all this work in translation.  It's about a certain aesthetic, but also about bringing all this work into view.  Seems to be also what Dale Smith might be doing in bringing all these strands like performance and ecology and conceptual poetry into his discussion of slow poetry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, I like when there is effort made to puncture the mantle of authority that comes with 'having a position,' within the articulation of that position.  I also think of Tyrone Williams' and Bhanu Kapil's talks at the SPT conference making that effort in different ways, I figure Andrew will have that panel up on his blog soon.  I also don't think that that effort (to puncture one's own authority) is incompatible with support, even fierce support, of one's own position or with taking an ethical stance.  I hope not anyway, maybe that's something we could talk about as I'm interested in that (possible) contradiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope this isn't taking us too far off-track.  jared, you should totally return to slow cities or political art or any other topic.  also hope what i'm writing isn't just belaboring the obvious...i just realized after writing my last post that i had done the annoying thing of writing some random complaint casually dashed off in...uh...'authoritative voice'.  so trying to rectify in thinking about what i am thinking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo, lauren&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ubu.com/ethno/discourses/yepez.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6160229629107862393?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6160229629107862393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6160229629107862393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6160229629107862393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6160229629107862393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/07/add.html' title='add'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5707011005869855218</id><published>2008-07-23T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T18:23:00.558-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='megan appreciation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Jared'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slow poetry'/><title type='text'>back</title><content type='html'>hi megan &amp;amp; jared,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm back from montana.  as usual trying to post in scraps between working on poems &amp;amp; a forgetting keys frenzy out the door to work.  this'll be sketchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;megan, goodness!  well, thanks.  i am lucky to have you read my poems.  i wish i could write yours.  and jared's.  jared, i love your posts on slow &amp;amp; political art.  i love the way you put your vantage into them.  you are in quite the tone evolution on this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the types of metaphors you're using for endarkenment are very interesting.  patina &amp;amp; corrosion, now mask/lid.  i remember talking on the phone at some point about the occult aspect of pattern-making.   i have questions for you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why isn't the paglen work about uncovering? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;do you see it as like the lombardi work, as covering and uncovering at once? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(uncovering a network of hidden or occulted relationships.&lt;br /&gt;uncovering the presence of spy satellites.&lt;br /&gt;covering w/the formalism of diagrams that leave out the incoherence of relationship.&lt;br /&gt;covering with the reintroduction of satellites into the mythological sky.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't really know the lombardi or the paglen, i have to say.  so this is third-hand commentary.  for formalism in political art, i also think of ellen gallagher.  i look forward to looking into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it strikes me that a lot of political art incorporates vantage.  (is that the 'fantastic gap' in political art?)  i'm thinking of brecht, so much power in his restructuring of looking.  that he wants to reconfigure the viewer's looking to prevent it from dissolving into individualized emotion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;political art watches itself cover/uncover.  (i am thinking about juliana spahr's 'the transformation' also.)  the scrutiny &amp;amp; depiction of incompleteness is part of it.  brecht seemed to inspect a whole system of representation &amp;amp; emotion-formation (catharsis)  &amp;amp; watch it cover-uncover  itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on slow, i am thinking about the slow poetics.  i am interested in it as a type of potentially useful orientation (slow sports).  i guess the problems in it are the types of problems that jordan davis identifies on lime tree, but those are general problems w/having 'a poetics', i.e.,  (quoting jordan davis):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There is an undercurrent through most discussions of poetics I've ever seen, that whichever method or set of beliefs about writing is under discussion, it is either more or less &lt;i&gt;efficacious&lt;/i&gt; toward the goals of the side of the angels. (Scratch an American, find a cop.)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and problems of vantage.  i don't see why a poem that is produced fast or engages with a trash aesthetic couldn't be looked at as slow equally as much as fast, because it's disengaged from the whole competency/polish thing, which zips poems into the brain and registers them as 'Poems'.  mess can be slow as well as craft.  does using 'fast' words slowly make you fast or slow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am also bothered by the idea in the slow poetry post of 'too much bad poetry being produced'.  i don't think poetry will suffer by having badness in it.  i think poetry could go on continuing to have more in it.  i am reading some 'love and rockets' comics currently.  lots of dinosaurs.  wonderfully good at subsuming badness &amp;amp; making mysterious timeliness.  produce now, judge some other time.  but i am in favor of enlarging the field toward the past as well as the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;jared, can you go into your comments on merced?  why does it need more slow?  what are the politics of slow in cities?  (and/or in poems?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, incoherent as is will have to do.  i have 8 minutes to shower &amp;amp; get out of here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo, lauren&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5707011005869855218?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5707011005869855218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5707011005869855218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5707011005869855218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5707011005869855218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/07/back.html' title='back'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-7728454109370244559</id><published>2008-07-22T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T17:37:16.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Love Lauren?</title><content type='html'>Well, a million reasons.  One might better ask: Why love her poems?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   "Why not admit a baseball bat, a donor card?&lt;br /&gt;            To own down all that decision?  Why not admit of it?&lt;br /&gt;While I admit I think a hanging curtain system (upside down, I think).&lt;br /&gt;While I have the knack of time the year is getting glossy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me count the ways!&lt;br /&gt;Megan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-7728454109370244559?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/7728454109370244559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=7728454109370244559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7728454109370244559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7728454109370244559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-love-lauren.html' title='Why Love Lauren?'/><author><name>Megan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17927808282942685372</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6332320245140079771</id><published>2008-07-20T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T23:13:25.074-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Political Art'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mark Lombardi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Endarkenment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trevor Paglen'/><title type='text'>Meditative Reconaissance</title><content type='html'>Explicitly political art is hard. You know, all that doxa. I've only ever been able to like the work of two or three really clearly political artists. The first, a Filipino-American artist whose name I can't remember (Bloody catholic bloody blood and crazed madness) and then &lt;a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1487185"&gt;Mark Lombardi.&lt;/a&gt; I loved __________ art for it's extremity. Unlike, say, I don't know, Andres Serrano, there wasn't any distance, but ___________ had a real sense of line, and drips, and had a bit of comic book profanity in there. I wish I could remember his name. Lombardi, on the other hand, is all irony and coolness, and his diagrams are so balanced, so sane and classical, that they mimicked conspiratorial logic, with its aura of inevitability, while all the time being cool, so cool, about subjects that nobody who's not in a suit is cool with, except investigative journalists. Poltical art's got to be done now, though - Brecht said something about there being certain times when it was impossible to write about trees...something like that. Oh god, then there's Peter Saul...oh gawd - is that political art? Or does it just hate you and me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trevor Paglen, whose show, &lt;a href="http://www.bampfa.berkeley.edu/exhibition/225"&gt;"The Other Night Sky"&lt;/a&gt;  is currently on display at the Berkeley Art Museum, describes the problem pretty succintly in a discussion of Lombardi:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"...(Lombardi's) work depicts networks of relationships. Visually, they appear to be homogenous or 'neutral.' The actual content of relationships he depicts remains obscure (or reduced to financial exchange.) If one imagines Lombardi's work as a didactic tool, I'm not sure that it's very helpful. I would argue that the work is politically misleading because his maps suggest some kind of order to the relationships he depicts when there are actually deep internal contradictions, not to mention much more going on 'outside the frame.'&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;...on the other hand, I think that Lombardi's work succeeds as 'art' precisely for the reasons it fails as didactic work. I very much like the work when I view it in a more fantastical (as opposed to didactic) way."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It seems to me that Paglen is trying to deal with the "fantastic-gap" in political art. His work consists of flatly paranoid photos of spy satellites flying through constellations The BAM exhibit has  about 10 large c-print photos, and a hypnotic installation of a large spinning globe with projections of spy satellites in near earth orbit blinking all across its surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;These photos are the nighttime version of Richard Misrach's parched desert light. Where Misrach's work is all about the effects of the secrets at night. Paglen's is about the unseen causes - rather than finding Lombardi's elegant curves and diagrams, he find straight lines, made by the secret satellites, looking and looking, as they pass through  constellations, made of imagined lines depicting scenes from mythology, made permament through parallax and memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I writing about this on the MM blog? I think this work is related to Mrs. Maybe in its effects, if not in its subjects. It stretches back to the oldest of activities - looking at all the little night lights looking down on us, making meaning out of the occluded. Instead of privileging the meaning-making of looking, this work takes part more in an occult 'putting together of pieces.' We have stars, and constellations; what we're looking for and at isn't the hint of an eternally vigilant god or lifeforce, but of government agencies and tech tech tech tech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Endarkenment, then, is not only a function of the opposite of Enlightenment, it is also the mask under which the madness of daylight America grimaces, glares, and peers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, back to the sublime. Sublime surveillance, meditative reconaissance, the unknowable firmament, like everything else in the anthropocene, is full of your face and mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6332320245140079771?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6332320245140079771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6332320245140079771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6332320245140079771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6332320245140079771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/07/meditative-reconaissance.html' title='Meditative Reconaissance'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-7467477541184550635</id><published>2008-07-15T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T14:56:28.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SH0cWYHylCI/AAAAAAAAACw/jV3PCvSFpQU/s1600-h/duncanlevertovhp.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SH0cWYHylCI/AAAAAAAAACw/jV3PCvSFpQU/s320/duncanlevertovhp.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223362313577468962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMIGOD! Look at RD's hair. You can't beat that with a bat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ange Mlinko on probably my favorite poetry correspondence, &lt;a href="http://poetryfoundation.org/journal/feature.html?id=181959"&gt;EVER&lt;/a&gt;. Duncan &amp;amp; Levertov. They were real nasty to each other, but these letters are so tender, and so committed. Read 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-7467477541184550635?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/7467477541184550635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=7467477541184550635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7467477541184550635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7467477541184550635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/07/omigod-look-at-rds-hair.html' title=''/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SH0cWYHylCI/AAAAAAAAACw/jV3PCvSFpQU/s72-c/duncanlevertovhp.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1955251191571482419</id><published>2008-07-12T11:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T12:38:03.887-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oakland A&apos;s Slow Sports'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slow poetry'/><title type='text'>Slow Poetry &amp; Black Swans</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://possumego.blogspot.com/2008/06/slow-poetry.html"&gt;Slow Poetry&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;a href="http://lime-tree.blogspot.com/2008/07/nuisance-value-and-slow-poetry.html"&gt; Responses&lt;/a&gt; To the potentially corrupt and bourgie-ness of the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the shit continues at Dale's blog, which is linked over there &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'm all for the "How to Live, What to Do-ness of this lil idea. SI and I were talking about Black Swans, uncertainty and unpredicability, and somehow this morphed into a discussion of our sense of the pained selfconsciousness of the sort of "poetry community" thing, and where we fit into that thing. L and I have also talked about "experimental" poetry basically just equals good poetry. So, anyway, this slowness is something I like, but I'm aware of the problems - I don't feel like it's neccessary to blog about it too much, but I often return to Bhanu K's question about my Merced poems: "If chaos is sleepy, what wakes it up?" - Mercediana is a place that needs its non-blog-egghead slowness, and doesn't need anymore chaos, poor city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't need no Jesus and Mary Chain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This also has something to do with an idea I've been talking to Steve Kramp about, "Slow Sports." He kept asking me what was happening in the NBA championships, and I didn't know - B-Ball being too fast for me - I spoke of "Slow Sports," mostly baseball, but also, watched some golf. The social problems of golf are just too much for me, but I loved watching the U.S. Open - So, slow, dreamy, and with a strange body kind of thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, went to see the A's play the Mariners with my friend Scott Ralston. 0-0 until the 6th, A's get two home runs (one from Kurt Suzuki - it was his first at-bat, he was pinchhitting - just weird!) in the bottom of the 9th, and win on another homer in the bottom of the 11th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, my point is, Scott and I started yawning in the 8th inning, before it got interesting. I love it. Boredom, not ennui, not decadence...just the pace of life kind of replicated. The long-ish view. A tired, heavy-lidded attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can we talk about the politics of this stuff a bit? Lauren's up in Montana, Megan'll be here soon, so this post might sit for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;-Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1955251191571482419?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1955251191571482419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1955251191571482419' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1955251191571482419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1955251191571482419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/07/slow-poetry-black-swans.html' title='Slow Poetry &amp; Black Swans'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-178597200249727478</id><published>2008-07-08T22:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T22:01:58.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rasula on the COMPOST</title><content type='html'>Right &lt;a href="http://media.sas.upenn.edu/pennsound/groups/XCP/XCP_149_Rasula_10-21-07.mp3"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-178597200249727478?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/178597200249727478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=178597200249727478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/178597200249727478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/178597200249727478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/07/rasula-on-compost.html' title='Rasula on the COMPOST'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2710786001228043889</id><published>2008-07-07T11:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T11:10:40.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Various Gothic Lifestyle Events"</title><content type='html'>Dig, if you will:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.uncannymedia.nl/index.php"&gt;http://www.uncannymedia.nl/index.php&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are, of course, not alone in our investigations, in the universe, in California. Please note "The Popular Uncanny" in our links...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've written a new "Admiration" for Brenda Coultas, just mentioned as an exemplar of 'expanded empiricism - it says, in part:   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What kind of land deserves a death-mask as much as John C. Reilly, in life a friendly ghost but with pangs of history written in a dark script around the eyes, jowls, brows? A ghostliest place name is Indianola wherever you find it like a sign, what cheer. Life before the internet.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-Jared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2710786001228043889?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2710786001228043889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2710786001228043889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2710786001228043889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2710786001228043889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/07/various-gothic-lifestyle-events.html' title='&quot;Various Gothic Lifestyle Events&quot;'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-717406657515396059</id><published>2008-06-29T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T08:49:00.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Issue #2 Update</title><content type='html'>Lest we forget that this is a blog about a poetry magazine, here's an update about Issue #2:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Maybe #2 will be out by September. Contributors include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alli Warren&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Kenower&lt;br /&gt;Bill Luoma&lt;br /&gt;Brandon Shimoda&lt;br /&gt;Catherine Meng&lt;br /&gt;Christopher DeWeese&lt;br /&gt;Claire Becker&lt;br /&gt;Cynthia Sailers&lt;br /&gt;Daniel Ostmann&lt;br /&gt;Dorothea Lasky&lt;br /&gt;Elisabeth Beasley&lt;br /&gt;Genevieve Kaplan&lt;br /&gt;Jessica Baron&lt;br /&gt;Joseph Massey&lt;br /&gt;Logan Ryan Smith&lt;br /&gt;Nathan Hoks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to all who submitted poems, and also to all who responded to our entreaties to submit.&lt;br /&gt;This is going to be a big, good, issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-717406657515396059?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/717406657515396059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=717406657515396059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/717406657515396059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/717406657515396059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/06/issue-2-update.html' title='Issue #2 Update'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1721087247905982941</id><published>2008-06-28T18:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T20:29:05.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two of the Austere, for Context</title><content type='html'>Once again, proving that K. Goldsmith is not in control of linear time, two artists who came after (well, one did, anyway) Pop:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Time turns metaphors into &lt;i&gt;things&lt;/i&gt;, and stacks them up in cold rooms, or places them in the celestial playgrounds of the suburbs.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Robert Smithson (on Patina)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When I first made a grid, I happened to be thinking of the innocence of trees and then a grid came into my mind and I thought it represented innocence, and I still do, and so I painted it and then I was satisfied. I thought, This is my vision.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Agnes Martin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frightening idea, that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1721087247905982941?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1721087247905982941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1721087247905982941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1721087247905982941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1721087247905982941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/06/robert-smithson-on-patina.html' title='Two of the Austere, for Context'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1565139598046761166</id><published>2008-06-24T19:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T10:25:11.763-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Megan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Endarkenment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Lauren'/><title type='text'>Ok</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Yeah! Heraclitus - I've been speaking w/students about Plato 'n' Descartes this week, so it's kind of perfect to talk about a persistent 'endarkening' even as I try to explain that an alternative translation of Descartes' shit is: "I doubt, I think, therefore, I am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We=Mrs. Maybe's retainers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lauren and I have been talking (on the phone) a bit about this desire to proscribe or prohibit certain moves in poems, an kind of 'stay against confusion' method of approaching experience, and that we preferred to leave it at "I'm up for whatever." L, correct me if I've misrepresented. And I just want to say, that perhaps a better term for our project here isn't 'irrationality' but is 'an expanded sense of empiricism.'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To whit: Brenda Coultas' Marvelous Bones of Time. In subject, paranormal. In practice, fairly flat and lucid, but also very rich. I'd argue that it's an example of 'expanded empiricism.' She relates secondhand stories about ghosts. They are 'eyewitness reports,' and therefore expansively empirical, however untestable. Also, quite 'negative irritability.' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do I understand empiricism wrong? yes and no. Coultas compiles stories, not evidence, and what's more, makes poems. As Brent says, so beautifully of the form,  "[poems] can be perverse, obscene, grotesque, and then suddenly turn all earnest, wondering and vulnerable." Nothing abstract about that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;L, your sense that the present is most occult really resonates with me (and the historian here concurs). But, how does that effect the 'patina,' the whiff of the 19th century that the term brings? I like that spoiled, bad, soft, unconvincing part of it, you know? And I wish my present had more of the past in it. Make the present more dusty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My stepfather's family's ranch in Forestville, among the Redwoods, an incredible dusty place (Redwood offal and loam collecting on the roofs for years). Brother and I used to play with a box of fox and mink stoles there. They smelled so. They smelled like Mrs. Maybe. So, maybe I'm saying that I want a present engaged a bit more with the past. It's not anti-future. It's just that I have a strong aesthetic attraction to old stuff. I really like shabby chic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Regarding Shakespeare's fools. You're so right. Is it because they puncture the veneer, so good, and arrhythmically? They are wilful, sure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, can we say that we are wilful in our mystification, or are we being empiricists, honestly poets?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Re: Goldsmith: He quotes Gysin: "Poetry is 50 years behind painting" and provides this as a suggestion that there is all this great work to do - and that we're "Pop." Ridiculous! The implication that we have a long time 'til we get our John Currin (Stan Apps - ahahahahaha - JK) or our Richard Tuttle, our exciting Stockholder. It maybe makes sense that he holds this opinion  -"Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole - not in New York!" - but, it doesn't really give us much room. It's fatalistic, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For a refreshing alternative, check out Peter Holsapple's entry in the Times' songwriting blog &lt;a href="http://measureformeasure.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/06/24/catch-and-release/index.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Jared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1565139598046761166?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1565139598046761166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1565139598046761166' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1565139598046761166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1565139598046761166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/06/ok.html' title='Ok'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2368523646293473639</id><published>2008-06-24T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T10:24:22.771-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Megan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Jared'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skeptical occultism'/><title type='text'>nature loves to hide</title><content type='html'>i've been ruminating about &lt;a href="http://blog.sfmoma.org/tag/berlin-alexanderplatz/"&gt;berlin alexanderplatz&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2007/04/the_end_of_history.html#more"&gt;kenny goldsmith&lt;/a&gt;, and brent cunningham's new reading series &lt;a href="http://newyipes.blogspot.com/"&gt;artist statement&lt;/a&gt; - wondering if i want to say that the present is the most occult time, because what's hidden while it is present is really, really hidden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(i love, in brent's artist's statement, the idea of apprehending hidden presences of subtlety and turmoil while in a state of negative irritability). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; whether we (actually, jared, who was we?  mrs. maybe?) are engaged in a project of willful mystification -  maybe we (the grand we) want to expose the already-existing interstitial mystification.  bc nature loves to hide.  and more info plus the continued fact of ego = more desire to control.  aka one of the ego's mystifications is clarity / purity.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;proliferation &amp;amp; summation (drowning &amp;amp; the grid in jared terms). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't have time to clarify this - have to run to work - maybe my irritating blather will bait y'all (j, megan, catherine) to write back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think that shakespeare's fools may be the most skeptically occult characters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2368523646293473639?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2368523646293473639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2368523646293473639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2368523646293473639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2368523646293473639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/06/nature-loves-to-hide.html' title='nature loves to hide'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2052128109075941645</id><published>2008-06-20T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T19:16:56.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And So</title><content type='html'>El and Em,&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That little model I set up was kind of, you know, basic. I'm not really sure anything is excluded from experience - I set this up really to talk about the problem of presence - I don't think a poem is a presence that exactly matches the initial impetus/experience/process presence that exists in the mind of the poet. I'm saying an obvious thing in a complicated way - I was trying to distinguish between what I was talking about as presence and what Megan was talking about. For me, a poem is beautiful because it is related to the initial experience that precipitates its creation, but it has different oscillations, mostly by being something that always in the past, once it's complete. So, I was talking as a writer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My understanding of what Megan said (correct me, M) was that she was thinking of the presence as a presence as a reader - An old poem, like old oregano, can be 'rescented' or 'reherbed' by rubbing it, crushing it, and making it flavorful. In this way, the present is the struggle of the reader to make one's reading new.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;more in a minute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2052128109075941645?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2052128109075941645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2052128109075941645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2052128109075941645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2052128109075941645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/06/and-so.html' title='And So'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-4195587206945875512</id><published>2008-06-18T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T21:59:38.045-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Megan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Jared'/><title type='text'>ancient mot</title><content type='html'>dear jared, dear megan,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;except for my messed-up back i would have been sitting in this chair sooner - but as it is i will be wiggling out of it again sooner.  but i will think on what i've heard here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;j, i am thinking about your experience &gt; writing &gt; poem &gt; reader...&lt;br /&gt;does experience include the experience of bumping around poem while writing it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bc i can't say that writing is like channeling an experience - much more obstinate and blind than that.  more like writing a letter while also frantically describing the shape of the envelope in voice-over.  (and contrariness is like powering off the walls.)  in odd presentness poems are about the structure of attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ways of experiencing the past &amp;amp; future - since i don't have a very good memory, one way i experience the future is by thinking about what in the present i won't remember in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is there a scaffolding  to remove?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the patina is really interesting.  if poems inevitably gain patina, what does it mean for a fully present poetry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my thought -  poems gain and lose patina - things seem to become invisible from overexposure, then get noticed again when they are invisible enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;talk more about the lucio fontana painting.  see, jared, i posted something!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps - the lemur poem is awesome.  ancient mot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-4195587206945875512?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/4195587206945875512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=4195587206945875512' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4195587206945875512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4195587206945875512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/06/ancient-mot.html' title='ancient mot'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-463379852742923691</id><published>2008-06-18T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T16:20:56.369-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Megan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Endarkenment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Lauren'/><title type='text'>III</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SFmSwr9bUcI/AAAAAAAAACo/BMGsZ7d960I/s1600-h/%27Concetto_Spaziale%27,_waterpaint_and_oil_on_canvas_by_Lucio_Fontana,_1964,_55_x_46_cm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SFmSwr9bUcI/AAAAAAAAACo/BMGsZ7d960I/s320/%27Concetto_Spaziale%27,_waterpaint_and_oil_on_canvas_by_Lucio_Fontana,_1964,_55_x_46_cm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213359408789803458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megsy writes:&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Can poetry not be present?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah, yeah - so, poetry is present to the reader, yeah, but is poetry actually 'between two people?" I don't think so - and it makes an emotional quivering for me, if I think of ideal in poetry like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;experience (and all that can mean) &gt; writing &gt; poem &gt; reader (a second experiencing) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the sadness in the relationship b/t "experience" and the "poem" which is its residue. The Mark that's left behind. So, extending the Abram metaphor, the poem is with the reader in the present, but it existed before reader read it, then reading brings the original experience back into presence - like crushing old oregano so that the smells will come back out? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Huh. But it still doesn't bring the experience (broadly defined) back. I think Shakespeare was wrong about that shit. I think poems gain patina, and the patina is one of those potent admixtures of nostalgia and genially passing ideas. I was reading Spicer's one night stands this morning, and he refers to baseball players I don't know. So, their presence changes..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like this Lucio Fontana painting - the slash implies a prior presence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, is a focus on this 'patina' a deliberate mystification? And is that bad decadence? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;----&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Megan also writes "Does contrary poetry imply a lean future?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's it! What the hell do we have to do with the future? If Hermeticism is about studies in the past, what is our work to us and others, a few miners in the pastless world? I don't think the future will be lean - but for me that depends entirely on figuring out whether poetry is concerning itself with the future by bringing the past, and the juiciness and crying of the present, into an equilibrium with the future - not that I'm arguing for classicism, but that I'm arguing for the impossible goal of fully present poetry - probably the only solution is to do readings all the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;---&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On another note and adventure, I was watching "The Life of Mammals" and Reading L. Jarnot. "Oppen's Lemur!" Such a sick poem. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;---&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're adopting another rabbit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-463379852742923691?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/463379852742923691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=463379852742923691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/463379852742923691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/463379852742923691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/06/iii.html' title='III'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SFmSwr9bUcI/AAAAAAAAACo/BMGsZ7d960I/s72-c/%27Concetto_Spaziale%27,_waterpaint_and_oil_on_canvas_by_Lucio_Fontana,_1964,_55_x_46_cm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2044171267233081946</id><published>2008-06-11T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T10:52:24.567-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Megan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Lauren'/><title type='text'>Endarkement Too</title><content type='html'>Re reading the post, after continuing reading in David Abram on the nature of history as it relates to the old testament, he makes a pretty interesting claim for a different spatial conception of time - I don't have it in front of me, but he suggests that the proper metaphors are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Future: The horizon - not so interesting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past: Underground - on first glance, not so interesting, but it provides this interesting spatial thing, in which, as one is walking toward the horizon, the underground is always present, below one's feet, so that, one doesn't leave the past, but that past is always underfoot, always, as one walks toward the horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my statements about luddites 'n' atavism from the previous post have been reconceived, in light of this - the lud wants a return. But the present is the place to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Additional questions, for Megan and Lauren:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is writing poetry, contrary to implied "future-leaning" metaphor of the avant-garde, actually a kind of 'coming into presence' that maintains a relationship b/t past and future on the field of the manifest and manifesting present?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next - can poetry actually be present? Because, the mark on the page is always something held over from the past, and abstracted, from the present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2044171267233081946?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2044171267233081946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2044171267233081946' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2044171267233081946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2044171267233081946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/06/endarkement-too.html' title='Endarkement Too'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5471096164211933596</id><published>2008-06-06T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T14:34:46.454-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions for Lauren'/><title type='text'>Regarding Endarkenment</title><content type='html'>The latest issue of Arthur has this kind of hilarious "Endarkenment Manifesto" in a gatefold, that purports to be a manifesto of green hermeticism. How funny! OMG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So - I was reading Louis Menand's piece on E. Pound, who kind of suggested that the early Pound is kind of declaring war on the symbolists, and mystification in general. Are we engaging in a project of deliberate mystification? If we are, what does this mean? Are we looking into the future, or into the past? According to the futurologist on Science Friday, by 2040 we're going to be at least 50% cyborg. Will there be Endarkenment under such circumstances? Here is a quote from the manifesto, with a strong luddite sensibility:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Technology mimics and thus belittles the miracles of magic. Rationalism has its own Popes and droning litanies, but the spell they cast is one of disenchantment. Or, rather, all magic has migrated into money, all power into a technology of titanic totality, a violence against life that stuns and disheartens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whaddya think of that? Is endarkenment a matter of coming through to another heartening?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5471096164211933596?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5471096164211933596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5471096164211933596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5471096164211933596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5471096164211933596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/06/regarding-endarkenment.html' title='Regarding Endarkenment'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5640633287342462317</id><published>2008-05-21T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T09:58:24.364-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ll reading'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sentences'/><title type='text'>Jane Gardam, The Flight of the Maidens</title><content type='html'>High up in a different air stream, clouds as light as cheesecloth skirmished.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5640633287342462317?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5640633287342462317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5640633287342462317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5640633287342462317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5640633287342462317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/05/jane-gardam-flight-of-maidens.html' title='Jane Gardam, The Flight of the Maidens'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-1878887553000531201</id><published>2008-05-21T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T09:56:11.958-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ll reading'/><title type='text'>Ulf Stolterfoht, Trans. Rosmarie Waldrop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fistsize words/wounds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(eg the wound BECAUSE) for if we picture the&lt;br /&gt;thinker then altogether bold.  does frege perhaps&lt;br /&gt;fretfully ask "horse?" as a matter of course he&lt;br /&gt;does not.  to him a concept is a thing.  meaning&lt;br /&gt;even passion.  as for an outside world no doubt&lt;br /&gt;is gnawing at him.  and yet:  of unavoidable we&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;have to speak.  of hard language when he&lt;br /&gt;claims:  the city of berlin's a city.  volcano&lt;br /&gt;vesuvius a volcano.  the wound BECAUSE might&lt;br /&gt;well be ditto.  according to him it is not.&lt;br /&gt;to him falsehood is true value.  a song of&lt;br /&gt;songs.  and art how lithe his language sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;far out begins a rumbling.  of meta-stuff/&lt;br /&gt;cognition-increase/sense.  begins with:  "i was there.&lt;br /&gt;i have experienced the BECAUSE."  shows wounds.&lt;br /&gt;and leaves.  such terse confession is remembered&lt;br /&gt;long.  has unheard-of effect.  however:  calling his&lt;br /&gt;"experience BECAUSE" - this far we haven't got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let us picture the thinker then:  as a young beast.&lt;br /&gt;speckled.  bashful.  nicely with scruples hung.&lt;br /&gt;gutshot and pup-shy he is in generating the&lt;br /&gt;BECAUSE.  let us picture the thinker:  frail he&lt;br /&gt;leans against the snow and wind.  and then:&lt;br /&gt;we really see the thinker in front of our eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-1878887553000531201?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/1878887553000531201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=1878887553000531201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1878887553000531201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/1878887553000531201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/05/ulf-stolterfoht-trans-rosmarie-waldrop.html' title='Ulf Stolterfoht, Trans. Rosmarie Waldrop'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-8011704354957537051</id><published>2008-05-21T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T09:58:52.296-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='words'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skeptical occultism'/><title type='text'>occult words</title><content type='html'>-medium&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-figure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-cape&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-thicket&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-8011704354957537051?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/8011704354957537051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=8011704354957537051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/8011704354957537051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/8011704354957537051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/05/occult-words.html' title='occult words'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6928044244999566860</id><published>2008-04-29T15:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T14:34:54.782-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Robert Forster'/><title type='text'>Robert Forster's "The Evangelist."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SBuIXqTLQKI/AAAAAAAAACc/msQayDH0pEo/s1600-h/Folder.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SBuIXqTLQKI/AAAAAAAAACc/msQayDH0pEo/s320/Folder.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195896535175086242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This record is just incredible. So humane and bittersweet, full of the human comedy. Good god, I didn't know this kind of thing could still be done! - Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6928044244999566860?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6928044244999566860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6928044244999566860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6928044244999566860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6928044244999566860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/04/grgrgrrrgrggrgrgrgrgrgr.html' title='Robert Forster&apos;s &quot;The Evangelist.&quot;'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/SBuIXqTLQKI/AAAAAAAAACc/msQayDH0pEo/s72-c/Folder.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-3800619330703635916</id><published>2008-04-25T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T09:37:01.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>two</title><content type='html'>Two have reviewed Mrs. M lately - thanks!  Act nice, act &lt;a href="http://robmclennan.blogspot.com/2008/03/ongoing-notes-easter-sunday-2008-is-it.html"&gt;nice&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.debbieyee.com/2008/04/20/quite-the-handsome-chap-mrs-review-4-for-national-poetry-month/"&gt;gentle&lt;/a&gt; to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cover is Gocco.  There will be an issue 2.  Writing this, I realize that I had a dream last night that Jared said there will be no issue 3, but that was only a dream (or will have been only a dream once the semester is over).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess there are no more copies at Pegasus?  I think there are some at Diesel, but I'll check.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-3800619330703635916?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/3800619330703635916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=3800619330703635916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3800619330703635916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/3800619330703635916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/04/two.html' title='two'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-9062353070729271084</id><published>2008-04-07T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T09:37:35.641-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skeptical occultism'/><title type='text'>underlined</title><content type='html'>Reading a biography of William James, thinking about links between the occult and the rational or hyper-rational, waiting for Jared to comment in this space, I underlined 2 James quotes to put in here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The peace of rationality may be sought through ecstasy when logic fails..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Absolute is what has not yet been transcended, criticized, or made relative.  So far from being something quintessential and unattainable as is so often pretended, it is practically the most familiar thing in life.  Every thought is absolute to us at the moment of conceiving it or acting upon it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking, poetry may not be critique, but it tries to critique - makes absolutes (thoughts, sounds) and then interrogates them.  Reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fascicle.com/issue01/Poets/vitiello1.htm"&gt;Irresponsibility&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;by Chris Vitiello makes me think about this too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-9062353070729271084?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/9062353070729271084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=9062353070729271084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/9062353070729271084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/9062353070729271084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/04/underlined.html' title='underlined'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6660172138253131269</id><published>2008-04-02T09:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T09:26:28.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's General Claim</title><content type='html'>Poetry is not critique.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6660172138253131269?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6660172138253131269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6660172138253131269' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6660172138253131269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6660172138253131269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/04/todays-general-claim.html' title='Today&apos;s General Claim'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-4304046004635382224</id><published>2008-02-28T09:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T09:27:29.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No More/More</title><content type='html'>last week i sent out the last copy of mrs. m issue #1 (a secret copy that had been hiding in plain sight on my dashboard).  so it is sold out via the mails, though there are a couple copies still at pegasus and some at diesel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the more hand, jared and i just had an idea for issue #3 (putting cart before horse as usual since we're working on issue #2 presently).  i'll say no more presently except that we've just realized that our idea is actually an inadvertent homage to the amazing roberto bolaño. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't wait for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;2666&lt;/span&gt; to come out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-4304046004635382224?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/4304046004635382224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=4304046004635382224' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4304046004635382224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/4304046004635382224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2008/02/no-moremore.html' title='No More/More'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-9140290455517783598</id><published>2007-12-20T11:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T11:48:18.455-08:00</updated><title type='text'>brother projects</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/R2rB6dahD2I/AAAAAAAAACU/lzfcZEzUxFM/s1600-h/tile-grr004.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/R2rB6dahD2I/AAAAAAAAACU/lzfcZEzUxFM/s320/tile-grr004.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146138734296633186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This new EP, Storm-Driven Bird, by the Parish, is an exciting project.  Jared is related to it.  I am also related to it through another relative.  It &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/theparishband"&gt;sounds&lt;/a&gt; and looks great - released on &lt;a href="http://www.gold-robot.com/records/"&gt;Gold Robot Records&lt;/a&gt;, artwork by Brooklyn-based artist &lt;a href="http://afonline.artistsspace.org/view_artist.php?aid=7207"&gt;Ian Umlauf&lt;/a&gt;.  I wish Mrs. Maybe would make sounds aside from rustling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-9140290455517783598?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/9140290455517783598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=9140290455517783598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/9140290455517783598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/9140290455517783598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2007/12/brother-projects.html' title='brother projects'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/R2rB6dahD2I/AAAAAAAAACU/lzfcZEzUxFM/s72-c/tile-grr004.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2309495253437097489</id><published>2007-11-27T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T09:44:15.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where the Mrs. Is</title><content type='html'>you can now find Mrs. Maybe at&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diesel, a bookstore&lt;br /&gt;5433 College Avenue&lt;br /&gt;Oakland, CA 94618&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as well as at&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pegasus Books&lt;br /&gt;2349 Shattuck Avenue&lt;br /&gt;Berkeley, CA 94704&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to go in to both these places.  For future, I plan to admire the Mrs. Maybes sitting on actual shelves and buy too many of the small poetry books and daydream about buying too many of the big fat art books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lauren&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2309495253437097489?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2309495253437097489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2309495253437097489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2309495253437097489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2309495253437097489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2007/11/where-mrs-is.html' title='Where the Mrs. Is'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-5238483818109922045</id><published>2007-11-16T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T12:52:49.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Airwave Type Stars</title><content type='html'>Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Lakes Poetry &lt;a href="http://www.spinitron.com/public/index.php?station=kbga&amp;amp;month=Nov&amp;amp;year=2007&amp;amp;plid=7327"&gt;broadcast &lt;/a&gt;the Mrs. Maybe reading, way up there in Missoula, Montana.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-5238483818109922045?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/5238483818109922045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=5238483818109922045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5238483818109922045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/5238483818109922045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2007/11/airwave-type-stars.html' title='Airwave Type Stars'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-6729416529064798782</id><published>2007-11-14T11:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T11:31:00.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Launch Reading Pix...Described.</title><content type='html'>Pix below from the Mrs. Maybe launch reading at Canessa Gallery 11/11, which, as Jared mentioned, you can &lt;a href="http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box"&gt;listen&lt;/a&gt; to, thanks to Andrew Kenower.  The pix are:  our kindly audience, &lt;a href="http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box/2007/11/megan-breiseth-.html"&gt;Megan Breiseth&lt;/a&gt; reading, &lt;a href="http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box/2007/11/julie-choffel--.html"&gt;Julie Choffel &lt;/a&gt;reading, &lt;a href="http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box/2007/11/graham-foust---.html"&gt;Graham Foust&lt;/a&gt;'s mind, &lt;a href="http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box/2007/11/steve-kramp---c.html"&gt;Steve Kramp&lt;/a&gt; reading, &lt;a href="http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box/2007/11/sandra-lim---ca.html"&gt;Sandra Lim&lt;/a&gt; reading, the food + wine + one surprise, and the editors &lt;a href="http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box/2007/11/lauren-levin---.html"&gt;goofing&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://http//andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box/2007/11/today-and-next.html"&gt;off&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprise most popular item (besides wine):  cinnamon &amp;amp; sugar pita chips.  If you inspect the photo carefully, they are to be seen in the orange bowl.  Thanks to Canessa Gallery for hosting us, to the readers for reading, and to everyone for coming out to the party!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lauren&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-6729416529064798782?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/6729416529064798782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=6729416529064798782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6729416529064798782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/6729416529064798782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2007/11/launch-reading-pixdescribed.html' title='Launch Reading Pix...Described.'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-8804906450695095211</id><published>2007-11-14T10:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T11:21:48.501-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Launch Reading Pix</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztFqve8GJI/AAAAAAAAACI/4RxiGMFxTSY/s1600-h/audience.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztFqve8GJI/AAAAAAAAACI/4RxiGMFxTSY/s320/audience.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132772800921868434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztE6ve8GII/AAAAAAAAACA/aHqNenM4Uho/s1600-h/megan_reads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztE6ve8GII/AAAAAAAAACA/aHqNenM4Uho/s320/megan_reads.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132771976288147586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztEVfe8GGI/AAAAAAAAABw/qyMxQcJFrz0/s1600-h/julie_reads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztEVfe8GGI/AAAAAAAAABw/qyMxQcJFrz0/s320/julie_reads.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132771336338020450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztDa_e8GFI/AAAAAAAAABo/e7WOb8gHUEo/s1600-h/graham%27s_mind.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztDa_e8GFI/AAAAAAAAABo/e7WOb8gHUEo/s320/graham%27s_mind.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132770331315673170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztDLfe8GEI/AAAAAAAAABg/O-btzEn2J0A/s1600-h/steve_reads.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztDLfe8GEI/AAAAAAAAABg/O-btzEn2J0A/s320/steve_reads.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132770065027700802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztCzfe8GDI/AAAAAAAAABY/ysCGPVzb0a0/s1600-h/sandra_audience.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztCzfe8GDI/AAAAAAAAABY/ysCGPVzb0a0/s320/sandra_audience.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132769652710840370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztCjfe8GCI/AAAAAAAAABQ/RrIZqtM3P5o/s1600-h/provisions.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztCjfe8GCI/AAAAAAAAABQ/RrIZqtM3P5o/s320/provisions.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132769377832933410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztCXfe8GBI/AAAAAAAAABI/r7suTcqpiNo/s1600-h/editors_looking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztCXfe8GBI/AAAAAAAAABI/r7suTcqpiNo/s320/editors_looking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132769171674503186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-8804906450695095211?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/8804906450695095211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=8804906450695095211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/8804906450695095211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/8804906450695095211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2007/11/launch-reading-pix.html' title='Launch Reading Pix'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_seYUln7ZahE/RztFqve8GJI/AAAAAAAAACI/4RxiGMFxTSY/s72-c/audience.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-2452029526806491030</id><published>2007-11-12T18:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T18:44:07.947-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Listen Again, Or For the First Time</title><content type='html'>The Mrs Maybe Reading is up at A Voice Box, if you'd like to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box/"&gt;http://andrewkenower.typepad.com/a_voice_box/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-2452029526806491030?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/2452029526806491030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=2452029526806491030' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2452029526806491030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/2452029526806491030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2007/11/listen-again-or-for-first-time.html' title='Listen Again, Or For the First Time'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1055680920135588430.post-7840248749332657062</id><published>2007-11-05T21:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T10:06:27.589-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Always the Last To Know</title><content type='html'>Meredith just informed me that there is a &lt;a href="http://www.bklynbunny.com/home.html"&gt;bunny cam&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is neither here nor there, when it comes to Mrs. Maybe's Seance. Regarding Mrs. Maybe, There will be a reading for the magazine next Sunday at Canessa Park in San Francisco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, November 11th&lt;br /&gt;3:00 in the afternoon        &lt;p&gt;Canessa Park Gallery&lt;br /&gt;     708 Montgomery Street&lt;br /&gt;     San Francisco, CA 94111&lt;/p&gt;       415.392.1768&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Potentially, Megan Breiseth, Julie Choffel, Graham Foust, Steve Kramp, Sandra Lim and maybe some special surprise guests will be reading.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can buy the magazine at Pegasus Books in Berkeley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you live in Merced, come see &lt;a href="http://writelooklisten.googlepages.com/"&gt;Brenda Hillman read this Thursday&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jared&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1055680920135588430-7840248749332657062?l=mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/feeds/7840248749332657062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1055680920135588430&amp;postID=7840248749332657062' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7840248749332657062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1055680920135588430/posts/default/7840248749332657062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mrsmaybeseance.blogspot.com/2007/11/always-last-to-know.html' title='Always the Last To Know'/><author><name>Mrs. Maybe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13459804695423014394</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
