Myth-Buster, Spoken Word Poetry by Mel C. Thompson скачать в хорошем качестве

Myth-Buster, Spoken Word Poetry by Mel C. Thompson

This piece is kind of a literary-insiders' argument that I've been forever trying to win. And it cuts directly onto cultural questions we're facing in the artistic-political world we now live in. The debate started in the early 90s when post-beat poets (including myself) would all but brag about our mental illnesses and vices, leaving the public to believe that great art is the domain of mentally-ill, substance-abusing sex-addicts. And the mentally-and-physically healthy portion of upper-middle-class was getting tired of hearing this because it seemed to all but rule them out as contenders for the title of "immortal artist." And I understood their wanting to win the war for literary greatness, as the upper-middle-class is used to winning everywhere they go; and so it insults their hard work and discipline (and generally good-looking healthiness) for there to be this major area in life where they aren't always the very center of attention. And so their propagandists began appearing at readings, workshops and conferences insisting that art can very well be the domain of happy, healthy, well-adjusted, positive, optimistic people. Of course I saw through this immediately because of my first hand experience as a poetry publisher. In my publishing work, I got submissions, as all zines do, from all over the world, from every type of writer - - rich, poor, happy, sad, healthy, unhealthy. And, to be honest with you, I can't remember a single amazing piece that I felt wildly-compelled to publish that was sent in by a completely secure normie. Now the normies, having money and a strong work ethic, could hire the best writing coaches in the country, and, by disciplined and relentless effort, they were able to put out extremely professional works of craft and precision. The works were often impeccable, praiseworthy and free of typos and grammatical errors. However, sadly, no one cared, especially not me. But to take the argument further, I went to all the publishers I knew and said, "So show me a book you published by a completely physically healthy, completely mentally-healthy, completely financially-secure person." They straightaway admitted they had themselves had never come across mind-blowing normality or paradigm-shifting conformity; and so, not seeing anything that would rock anyone's world in normie materials, they declined to publish them, just as I had. Now, as for the politics of this whole thing: We know that both liberals and conservatives, if they vary with mainstream-media orthodoxy, are simply shut out of the art world (and most of society) forever. (There are notable exceptions: Some conservatives and non-conforming liberals who don't mind being hated by everyone, and who happen to also be completely mad enough to do great art, can withstand the sneering scorn of their peers and battle their way into the industry; but that would be 10% of the artistic population at most, if not as little as 1%.) However, it bears noting that even if artists with non-conforming politics were not routinely purged from the artistic world, there wouldn't be all that many of them anyway. After all, if one is really making it in business, sports and school, and in religious and family life, and if one is able to avoid the psychiatrist's couch completely, what exactly would one write about, a life of no drama? I myself took on the burden of this concept at a time when I was successfully living with a woman in Marin, and even had a car and a tech job (such phases of my life don't tend to last long, since I am not, long-term, usually a well man). But this little island of normality, I felt, could be exploited. But alas, no one was that thrilled with my work, and my audience share shrunk continuously. However, it wasn't long before my inner lunatic resurfaced and I began doing performance-art on the streets of Marin. This indeed worked, and immediately I was in the newspapers and magazines of Marin, and my audience was as large as ever. The short poem (presented in the audio clip) that prompted this essay is an attempt to report to my literary associates what it was like to see one of the evangelicals for normality-in-the-arts show up at one of our readings, and how the reading itself was perfect evidence against the argument she was making. We are always told by normies that "life isn't fair." And we're told to "get over it." But, I note, normies haven't yet got over the fact that their work is boring. It should be noted that mass-mental-illness has made its way up into normie circles lately, now that there is a civil war in the upper classes, and now that one can be purged from either the right or the left. And this trauma has led to some great content being made by former normies. But this is only because they are no longer the normies they were. Having been victims of purges, they are now freshly-minted manics. And so the search for great normie art is still a frustrated enterprise.