Thursday, October 31, 2013

ichabod melon

VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2013
© 2013 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.

 Boo!  My, good peops, wishing you n' yours an H2O All Hallow's Eve.
© 2012 Dawn Joseph

Today's holiday originates from yon border to beckon Mexico's Day of the Dead.  And yet?  Once upon again, H2Omeloncholia finds links less South than East.  Squeezed into squares or priced to auction, melon  - in Japanese culinary culture - makes a frequent dissOrientalized guest appearance in this absurdist blog.  Here, Asia, South America, and The galactic infinities are eva waterwelcomed: 

Can ya dig it?  Not for nuttin', Shakespeare sho' nuff didst name his original theatre, Globe.  Mad melon ups n' dap.  Revolve on, baby, spin...all in.

What is more surreal than quantum folklore?  Upon this Eve o' Spook, a resounding shout- out (with a pound tossed in fo' good measure) to the myth/tale/or what ye will...known in Japan as the mujina - which is oft confused with the similar Noppera-bō

For some, the mujina is a badger or raccoon dog who happens to change form at will.   

by Toriyama Sekien

For othas far mo' provocatively inclined, the mujina is a faceless XX chromo agent - a blank-canvased visage absent detectable features.  Popular renderings describe her, head in hands, weeping.  The 'victim', concerned, may approach the stranger seemingly in distress.  She turns, revealing a non-face.

Quantum myth or qualitative Matter?  One shall leave her existence to thine esteemed discretion, homez.  Hawaii, howeva, much to the shivering chagrin of alleged witnesses, has reported actual sitings.

Granted, the raccoon dog or raccoon b-tch with 'masked eyes' is all too tempting to dissect misogynist undertones evapresent n' abounding in a holiday erstwhile committed to fright but now bent towards fornication.  How unnerved one finds oneself - not to champion coitus.   Unsettling indeed.  Still, one must relent to this neo exploitative uniform as confusing that most narrow pumpkin in the patch with Da Pole.  Emphatically, one dost not diss Pole as profession.  Contrarily, exotic labor has long deserved to emerge from Oppression's seediest of shadows.  To organize.  

© Twentieth Century Fox
Sally Field in Oscar-winning role, Norma Rae, 1979
Labia Liberation.  

NOTE:  LL?  Firstly, apologies to Cool J.  Further, 'tis no remedial turn o' poetic phrase bred of erotic, alliterative pandering.  Rather, one attempts to reference the notion of not eyes, nor nose, but XX chromo lips - north or south - smeared off into silence.

And yet, yo?  Google Maps fails to locate the wisdom in parading punany power suits down the same bucolic boo!meloncholic street as candybarred-inebriated Junior - years yet from wetting a dream.  For evidence supporting a Pole aesthetic within the otherwise healthy wardrobe of apocalyptic warlocks and witches, prithee, peep thy local paper.  Courtesan accoutrement asserts its autonomy in the guise of a lascivious lawyer sucking on the tip of her eyeglass frames' 'temple'.  Turn forthwith to the colorful section of current deals.  It is there, upon the endangered printed page, amongst discounted carved gourds - orange, not striped green - that thou wilt spot a 'naughty' nurse in white fishnets, Red Cross garter, and unmentionable band-aid.  

Obama...O'RomneyCare, alas, is not a single-payer system.  A nigh bureaucratic buffet for the insurance and pharmaceutical industries serves the bachelor soirée of Big Bidness.  Were Big Daddy Bidness not accommodating the regulated side of this new fam - uniting his son to the daughter of Bloated Gov'ment - his hired cohorts may have been at liberty to capitalize on the autumnal month in masquerade by concocting said nurse as a titillating world wide web mascot to distract from current internet ills.  A bustiere-ed Rococo royal would "let 'em eat cake" (to then induce double CONscience/Type 2ness - for further pharma intervention).  That induction - pseudo saccharine and heedless - purportedly lead to Marie Antonia Josephina Johanna's 'headless' end.  Health and Human Services Secretary, Kathleen Sebelius might just appreciate the reprieve, diverting attention to some Hallow-ed as scantily-clad reveler in 'frosted' pasties bursting forth from a cake, shaped like the bus, under which Ms. Sebelius has been administratively thrown.

Feminist-foiling costumièrey may be best explored in anotha post.  Pardon, one didst digress.  Let us return, shall we, gentlesoulfolk, to the faceless XX chromo anti-citizen.  Such is quite the truncated sojourn as the preceding paragraphs suggest punany trumps punim.
Nevadaless, one is 'haunted' by the mujina's organic metaphor for identity - or lack thereof.  Anthropologist, filmmaker, and friend, John L. Jackson sparks a self-reflexive revolution in ethnography with his latest work of much merit, Thin Description.  His 'focus' is the African Hebrew Israelites of Jerusalem.  One finds the work scholarly as much as surreal.  Professor Jackson's engaging discourse is happy hour's serum after the 'visiting' lecture.  'Visual' citizen - to Other - versus that 'subjects' Own visceral identity.  He writes relentlessly of the dance - from which no being takes a breath - 'twixt mirror and 'lens'.

What is meant by taking at "face value"?  With respect to Professor Jackson's title, what is 'thinner' than a face that ain't?  Might POSTface be eerily realistic as the definitive image to repazent not?

© Conde Nast
Ah, POSTness - all coquette.  Should we wax H2Omeloncholic about our invisibility or be straight-up frightened past eek! or in the ultimate Act of Resistance-meets-Denial, even entertain a quasi amusement?

One remains empathetic to that Hawaiian resident or two battling for their sanity post-encounter.  Not withstanding that exception, the mujina as skilled shape shifter is considered a trickster - mischievous mo' than malevolent.  

Perchance there is no distinction - detectable, anyway - alluding as much to the elusive face of the mujina as any delineation betwixt H2Omeloncholy™, catatonic fear, or Théâtre de l'Absurd's dramedy.  None, whatsoeva, for is not 'successful' socio assimilation equal part trick n' treat?

Choose thy gourd.  Be it melon or pumpkin, may that H2-O-lantern o'erflow...

The Headless Horseman Pursuing Ichabod Crane, 1858 - John Quidor

a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility of

Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...

© 2013 KM Fikes 
© 2013 
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.

Monday, October 14, 2013

To the Reefer.

VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2013
© 2013 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.

To the Reefer, ROWcoco, and melon madness...

...upon this - Columbus 'Day'...

Merriam Web's take?
                     row   noun. \rau\
                                        a noisy disturbance or quarrel 

"Quarrel, I will back thee."         
Romeo and Juliet - Act I, Scene 1  
UK Conservative Conference 2013

"...;THAT is the question..."
TWO questions, my good peops (with apologies to the melancholic Dane).

ONE:  What the @#$% is racism?    
TWO:  What and who defines the Queen's tongue?
back to
          "What do you think?  Are hip-hop artists like Akala of Hip-Hop Shakespeare
           racist and misguided?  Or is this another case of the arts being caught in a
           political crossfire?"

'ONE' slack-jawed question, O ye, Shakespeare Standard, as an inexplicable distortion of 'racism'.  As erred utterances go?  Wholly lacking in originality.  Normative adjacent.  Troth - 'standard'.  Too regular to reiterate further.  And yet?  This discombobulation still manages to astound in its stupefying conflation of racism's benefactors or primary agents with those, contrarily positioned, in estimable defiance of racism's structural oppression thru insistence upon their/our agency.  Akala's posture reads thus defiant; Johns' compliance straddles - oblivious as stridently - that fence 'twixt regression and progression.  Most fences, tho', have a picket loose or brick about to fall.

With THAT?  Straight to't.  One is unfamiliar with a quantifiable weight of yon nebula past our endangered eco 'system'.  Nevadaless, Lindsay Johns credits that eva nebulous 'bling' culture as the downfall of a certain segment of civilization.  O'ersimplified and thus beneath Mr. Johns, the youth volunteer - himself - his proposed antidotes?  Speech.  And clothing.  He, like UK owned Fox network analysts, looks askance at the infamous 'hoodie'.  Hamlet, hood none yet brooding about his haunted castle in codpiece and ruff - like hooded Trayvon Martin - still met his tragic end.

Mr. Johns is generous enuf to tip the quill in his cap towards WEB DuBois as one of the exceptions to the curriculum in which he feels "dead white men" should remain predominant.  Howeva, suspiciously, one needst not revert to the early twentieth century to locate exemplary Other-ed Ethnic figures.  The recently-departed Nigerian author of Things Fall Apart titled the very work for a line in a John Keats poem.  Chinua Achebe might - then - meet Mr. Johns' approval.  (Do feel at liberty to insert Columbus 'Day' quip here...The last sentence is thine, yo - concluding this paragraph with the democracy one shall wish for an astute curriculum of critical global citizenship.)

Mr. Johns insists that the reason 'the canon' has survived for millennia is because it is "good".  True dhat.  Except for those who trace editions where the First Folio allegedly migrates from Bad.  Bad Quarto, that is.  Nevadaless, the global breadth of brilliant, even ingenious, work supersedes that which has been canonized.  What Mr. Johns fails to mention are the mechanics of the inherent assumptions of privileged culture.  "Good", i. e., quality or worthy prose can be far less influential than societal inclinations to concede to said work - consequently deemed superior due to the creator's sanctioned identity as da voice o' structural correctitude. 

H2Omeloncholic critique if eva there be.  

Thy dear author curiously finds oneself aligned intimately with Mr. Johns' stance on purebred Bard.  Although adolescents, his mentees should avoid - at ev'ry cost - the sophomoric expectations/delusions from Dominant Cult's estimations.  These future leaders - as do we all - deserve a sophisticated presentation to divulge/indulge the quintessence of the scribe's intent. Therein lies the debate; it is the tone of Lindsay Johns to which one stands in direct albeit empathetic opposition.  

"These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears."
Hamlet - Act III, Scene 4 
Hip hop doth not demean Brah Bard.  Arguably, it qualifies as the progeny of Elizabethan verse.  Mr. Johns' apparent inability and/or refusal to acknowledge this intrinsic link is wretchedly detrimental to the same generation that one believes he sincerely assists. 

As the creator, or rather excavator, of the phantom verse, Elizabonics™, the relationship 'twixt Elizabethan English and 'Merican Ebonics proves more interdependent than one might have imagined upon daring to e'en explore Elizabonics as more than one's own absurdist whim.  Elizabonics dost not present the proposition of either/or with which Mr. Johns seems at war.  As one's exhaustively footnoted work illustrates, the commonalities in verse are no compromise to any acumen.  Elizabonics™ is intended as a challenge to our notions of dramatic dialogue as high or low art.  Might it be both or neither?  The hypothetical verse answers for itself.  Elizabonics is meant to be a celebration of collective intellectual prowess thru a comprehensive as creative exercise in comparative literature.  In the vein of John Stewart or Stephen Colbert, one's own adjunct offering or commentary is no succinct alternative to initial source.  Elizabonics is less a Shakespearean rendering or interpretation than a surreal migratory route for the possibilities of verse drama.  How does inventive approach detract scholastic advance?  Standing tall in the converse is A Most High Cotton Epic Poem in Three Groovements...or Otherwise Called A Most High Cotton Trilogy: An ElizabonicHypothesis.

What and who defines the Queen's tongue?

Akala - TED Talk 



i'/o'er/et cetera

Below, the additional syntax/pronunciation is classified as unStandard English or Elizabonics or what Mr. Johns deems unacceptable "ghetto" jargon in a lauded leadership program.


Lindsay Johns - graduate student of 'classic' languages - cannot intend this inherent hypocrisy when calling for a direct read of da Bard's text.  Again, one supports Shakespeare unabridged.  It is the tenor of Mr. Johns' 'call' that alerts the ol' H2Omelon patch like Linus van Pelt come Halloween.  Dost not 'axed' honor Elizabethan grammar - as descended from Chaucer - e'en mo' than the ostensibly correct 'asked'?  Which tongue - then - art keepin'...keep'st...keepin' it real, yo?

FULL DISCLOSURE: gentlesoulfolk?  One's inkwell is filled from across the pond - thaz 'Merica.  One confesses an appalling ignorance of UK slang which one hopes to rectify as a hyper audible tourist in O.B.'s 'hood - Original Bard.  Such is paramount to verify Elizabonics in English speaking 'settings' beyond 'Merica.  Meantime, my good peops?  One digs - hard - the curious contradiction RE: frames of 'authentic' articulation cred.  Prioritizing 'accent', a US Shakespeare company can lavish praise upon a UK thespian who nigh surpasses mediocrity.  Parallel, the UK hip hop scene might be enamored of a jot-above-average MC from 'Merica.  Equal opp offense.  And that exact offense?  Many know - on some level - when they suffer fools.  Altho', 'tis some tendency to be less alert to how bias can blind-side discernment, leaving one to inadvertently venerate the prosaic.  Ironically, the latter can claim more fault in the suspension of progress or innovation.  Here, one pauses...ere one warns against unintentionally impeding the exceptional medium that is the continuum of Verse.  

Excusing all hip hop as 'bling' culture is eerily uninformed but so much mo'?  Such is treble bass troubling.  Mr. Johns is to be commended - in no small measure - for his work with 'at risk' teens, and in particular his insistence to raise the bar of expectation thru Shakespeare's verse - straight up.  What concerns one, howeva, is Mr. Johns' capacity to authentically connect with the students about whose success he is so passionate.  Verse.  Verse.  Shakespeare was a verse dramatist.  In iambic pentameter.  And rhyme. the modern verse dramatist?  Where else in performed Word is the extended narrative?  In 4/4 time signature.  And rhyme.

A Tribe Called Quest
The Roots
Wu-Tang Clan

Ay, a reading/listening list to defy Mr. Johns' predilection towards 'bling' as the primary descriptor for ev'ry school of hip hop.  One wouldst ne'er, neva dream of referencing all film as 'porn'.  Nor wouldst one dissmiss all 'porn' as automatically exploiting or distorting the labyrinth of sexuality.  Notable auteurs, the Eastern Kurosawa (1910 - 1998) and Western-ish Almodóvar (incidentally no less riveting for being sub-titled) deserve much betta discourse. * 

One is partial to Stanley Wells' big up-ed edition of da canon a la Bard.  One is unaware of Mr. Johns' preference of translation albeit - being such a purist - he may prefer the rough n' tumble read of the Good Quarto o'er the First Folio.  One doubts that assertion as Mr. Wells and others have airbrushed Willy S. to make the work legible  Mr. Johns may miss a salient point.  The legitimacy of Elizabonics finds mo' support in the quartos or initial folio attempts than the requisite rendering provided by the über articulate Mr. Wells.
Common's 1994 I Used To Love H.E.R.(Hip Hop in it Essence is Real) is a spoken word sonnet to a phat beat.  It is widely regarded as hip hop's anthem.  Perchance, as a canonical verse advocate, Mr. Johns might champion - if given the chance - Common's ambitious feat.  Common's lyric is an epic analogy of the history of hip hop thru the evolution of a 'hood - thaz girlhood to womanhood.  Alas, propensity of XY chromo privilege not exempt.  Melville, too - absent a biological 'blowhole', used whaling and oceanography for quite a successful allegory.  'Sooth yo, the deep blue (rhythm or water) is no less a relevant metaphor than a global phenomenical art form.  'Elements' all.  Common laments 'her' (Hip Hop's) superficial 'phase' or 'bling' turn.  Common, howe'er, is neither disgusted nor furious with 'bling's influence on his love interest as much as mourning the loss of the soul of Hip Hop.  Here, Common - rap artist - embraces the vulnerability of grieving Hip Hop as the breathing, thinking, feeling entity gone astray.  Common will not abandon her nor essentialize or judge her by the latest fad to which she falls prey.  He believes in Hip Hop - she is hallowed ground beneath the wind of 'bling culture'.  

One can only hope that Mr. Johns' confidence in his students follows suit.  

Should not the exploration - daresay, evolution - of narrative expression be encouraged rather than demonized?  Vilifying the 'bling' aspect of hip hop as the entire artistic genre's - as much as cultural movement's - core content?  Woeful at the very least.  Its most eloquent lyricists - with Akala at the fore - critique 'bling' mo' vociferously on a a loop...with a hook...than Mr. Johns at a Conservative Conference podium.  The former's comprehension is that of a kinetic canon; the latter appears resigned to a canon in/of stagnation.  Mo'ova, the Shakespearean-astute Akala remains relentless in his critique of the very 'Empire' whose resulting literature Johns heralds yet sans any valid cultural dissection.  With imperialism as foe yet Bard as friend, Akala proves more shrewd, and thereby, adroit, in navigating the complexity of a complicated canon.  For the sake of students, might Johns, too, adopt a critique far mo' nuanced? 

In observance of one's own absurdist ethos, one proposes a link 'twixt nuance and séance.  To commune with a 'past' realm - presently - might well allude to the maturity or wisdom of a nuanced approach; past and present are invited simultaneously - thru a trusted 'medium' - to examine those inconvenient, delicate particulars, quasi-fissures in consciousness, provoking the failures of an easy certainty.  Allowance for 'ease' in our rationale, dear Johns, might not quite qualify as thought-gone-lazy but does it not concede rigor?  Maybe Akala, Common, and those curiously denied their due upon commercial airwaves are clever - in part - because Johns' conformity cannot confine them.  A 'medium' is necessitated when ousted Other or unseen Source or Martian-by-way-o'-Margins refuses to accept societal-prescribed parameters of its 'fate' 'Rap', whenst engaged as an anthropological discipline - not exempting mystical nod - is not reckless, but existentially restless.  The gifted rapper, poet, bard, unbound as un-blinged, is but yon storyteller who carries forth, in forms unfolding, our eternal myth-making as metaphor for meaning: SAYance meet NEWance.

One's quill feather is limp - least perplexed by the current 'row' - perhaps because such a row (like 'knowledge', itself, when entrenched in institutionalized constructs) threatens most its very own existence.  One enters into evidence one's own ElizabonicsWhat is best in hip hop is no condescending tool but companion to the 'experience' of language...or anything but stagnant in mode and meaning.  Visceral as volatile.  Shakespeare himself was no aristocrat nor royal and oft saved his profundity for the court jester of the cast - fully aware that the queen was sequestered in her box whilst the groundlings' rotten 'produce' was his most visceral critic.  Lindsay Johns is in a prime position with the optimal audience not to denigrate the volatility of modern verse drama but rather, remove his own unfortunate pre-misconceptions.  Exposing himself further to the alleged heir of verse drama - that may well be conscious or 'woke' hip hop - wouldst serve to honor classic 'lit' as just that: lit...erature as the personification of 'lit' up, a light, awake, aware, capable of inclusive, culture-confirming depth, breadth, and promise. Yo, ill.  As in illumination. The choice before him - and ay, 'tis eva a choice - is to snuff out scholarship or emancipate the egregiousness of a canon kept exclusive.  How can Western tradition be - all at once - too precious to expand yet precarious enuf to expel? 

Johns must, indeed, ASK or AX. 

* Western-ish?     
[Europe may be the 'West' - in relation to Asia as the East - but Spanish filmmaker, Almodóvar (1949 -   ) may still be uniquely situated as 'Other' in relation to the Hollywood 'system' which still feels compelled to offer a Best FOREIGN Film category as the pinnacle of its professional accolades.] 

(upon this Columbus 'Day')
a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility of

Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...

© 2013 KM Fikes 
© 2013 
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.

Friday, October 11, 2013

melon in the sky with diamonds

VOGUE copyright Conde Nast
© 2013
© 2013 KM Fikes
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.

The surrealist week that was...

Tuesday, October 8, 2013 - crack of dawn?  
'Merica mo' entrenched in absurd political wrangling.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013 - crack of dawn?  
The Nobel Prize in physics is awarded to Francois Englert of Belgium and Peter Higgs of the United Kingdom for their identification of the Higgs boson or 'God Particle'.

Yep, gentlesoulfolk, we have fallen down the rabbit hole - again.  This week of Nobel announcements to celebrate human excellence in science, literature, and most elusive 'Peace' occurs in the second week of The 'developed' world 'leaders' aborted governance.  This juxtaposition of our worst behavior right smack upside the head of our crowning achievements offers a full circle week of human potentiality. 

“Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous.”
Albert Einstein - 1921 Nobel laureate, quote from The World As I See It

Friday, October 11, 2013 - crack of dawn?
The Nobel committee salutes the UN inspecting team in Syria, the Organization for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons (OPCW) instead of vocal advocate for XX chromo ed-resulting-in-Taliban-bullet-thru-the-head...Pakistani teen, Malala Yousafzai.  

Granted, the work of the OPCW is intrinsic to humanity - ridding the global landscape of the tools of warfare.  One, howeva, must question this trend of awarding institutions over individuals.  The power of community honors us all.  Nevadaless, one wonders if Alfred Nobel may have been more inclined towards the idea of inspiration as most potent when singularly derived.  There is the rare grandeur of an altruistic act.  That must first be a choice.  Its catalyst is the conscience of the individual.  Is such not the finer example of humanity's potential when just one decides upon, and then demands, ultimate dignity?  Oft sans support, that lone person - placing awareness into actuality - creates change for the better.  For all - if only in inspiration which cannot be minimized.

For those amongst my good peops taking a random tally on the award that Gandhi - albeit nominated four times - never received?  
2013 - UN unit 
2012 - EU
2011 - 'joint' XX chromo rights award to  
            Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Leymah Gbowee and Tawakkol Karman
2010 - Liu Xiaobo
2009 - POTUS

Now, po-lease, back to that boson...

Do you believe in God?

One need not believe in nor even acknowledge the atomic structure of What Be in order to exist.  Molecules will just keep on doin' their thang regardless of human consciousness.  To excel, however?  Might there be an optimal level of awareness or intention on the beginning of Matter to make a life matter most?

One reserves her belief for Awethenticity.  One dares to define Awethenticity as integrity uncompromised.  One imagines Awethenticity as our potential realizing itself - fully unimpeded by ego.  "Fully" is crucial here.  'Fully' - to even H2Omeloncholic moi - means past all expectations.  'Full' would have to be so; it must.  Even our seemingly best expectations are still yet the gossip of collective ego.  A full or utter realization would blow our minds - mind being ego's ace playmate.  Such would obliterate the very notion of our own presumed potential.  Concept - then - no matter how elevated - becomes inconsequential.  Separation of self from any idea of deity is rendered obsolete in this moment infinitely vulnerable to the truth of itself.  That level of raw realization would expose unimaginable excellence.  

That reward might be what Alfred Nobel meant with his award.  Notably?  In secular Sweden where agnosticism and/or atheism is normalized.  When individual recognition was the standard, the Stockholm shout-out apparently sought the notion of piety within the purity of personal conviction - as expressed thru noble action. 

One believes in that Awethenticity - only.  If Awethenticity has a root and if the essential atom at the core of that root is some divinity expressing an inconceivable altruism for what may be possible in our purpose - then, in that? In that - along with financial portfolio advise from Lucy van Pelt?  In those two I would be absurdly humbled to believe.

a clever as compassionate critique
on the implausibility of

Til our next 'post', feast upon produce in season...

© 2013 KM Fikes 
© 2013 
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from KM Fikes is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to KM Fikes & with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.  No excerpt or link may be used for monetary compensation.