Author: Jnana Hodson

In downsizing to a remote fishing village in Downeast Maine, this eclectic writer feels everything's coming together.

IN SEARCH OF AN AUTHENTIC AMERICA

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

As I said at the time …

I’m a sucker for writing that stays close to the grain of everyday experience. The charge often leveled against such transparency or luminosity accuses such work of being “superficial” or even “banal.” (Recently, I saw a blast of “shallow” fired at one poet, and I’m still angry – maybe I just don’t have a lot of patience anymore with work that baffles me more than it informs or moves emotionally or spiritually. After more than a quarter-century of returning repeatedly to his pieces, I’m still amazed at their depth and continuing revelations.)

You also seem quite aware of what I call the “motor oil” dimension, something I think is required in the sustained voice of any current, authentic American artist: an ability to acknowledge the oil stains and discarded cans in the American landscape – urban or rural. It comes up as cigarette butts, the Port-o-John, the neighborhood Arby’s, or the sounds you detail. Makes the beauty of the turtles all the more authentic. (By the way, what is the sound of a turtle’s voice?)

Turtles – like serpents – go into realms humans cannot. Must be part of their mythological empowerment.

Hmm, thinking of Snyder again, how his Riprap & Cold Mountain Poems came from summer employment, as a forest fire lookout atop icy Sourdough Mountain, while yours was more Siddhartha-like along a muddy river. Also, of the gentle humor I’ve admired so much in Brautigan’s work, also present here.

~*~

Rust and Wound 1

For my own resulting poems, click here.

 

GETTING THE LABEL RIGHT

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

When it comes to Bernie Sanders’ chances in a national election, much discussion seems to revolve around his self-proclaimed “socialist” identity. The critics say it would repulse most voters in the heartland – and that’s why he wouldn’t get far on the road to the White House.

While he wouldn’t be the coalition builder Hillary Clinton embodies, I’m not so sure Bernie’s really a socialist. But as I look at his positions, the label I see is “hippie.” Or as I’ve been arguing, hippies came – and still come – in all varieties, few of them fitting the mass-media stereotypes. Bernie could have been living down the dorm hall from me, or even in the rundown apartments we rented.

Early in the race, his rallies did look like hippie reunion time. All we needed was the right band to dance to. And now? It’s a youth movement, ripe for the Revolution of Peace & Love.

At least our alternative isn’t another Hubert Humphrey, rest his soul. No, I suspect Hillary was also a hippie – one of the intense ones of the activist sort.

And both with something resembling a social conscience.

PLAYING ROULETTE AT THE POLLS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 3 Comments

Trying to define exactly where Donald J. Trump stands politically brings up a reminder of his hand in the casino business. The roulette wheel goes round and round before eventually landing somewhere.

Maybe somebody wins, but a lot more lose.

And the house always profits.

No wonder I’m getting dizzy!

Just what’s his game, anyway?

FROM THE MARINE CORPS COMMANDER

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“I spent 33 years and four months in active military service and during that period I spent most of my time as a high class muscle man for Big Business, for Wall Street and the bankers. In short, I was a racketeer, a gangster for capitalism. I helped make Mexico and especially Tampico safe for American oil interests in 1914. I helped make Haiti and Cuba a decent place for the National City Bank boys to collect revenues in. I helped in the raping of half a dozen Central American republics for the benefit of Wall Street. I helped purify Nicaragua for the International Banking House of Brown Brothers in 1902-1912. I brought light to the Dominican Republic for the American sugar interests in 1916. I helped make Honduras right for the American fruit companies in 1903. In China in 1927 I helped see to it that Standard Oil went on its way unmolested. Looking back on it, I might have given Al Capone a few hints. The best he could do was to operate his racket in three districts. I operated on three continents.”

Maj. Gen. Smedley Darlington Butler, USMC
— from War Is a Racket