Monthly Archives: February 2022

Putin captured Chernobyl

So Putin captured Chernobyl. A symbolic victory for someone who threatens to nuke Europe if he is opposed in his wars of aggression. Do we even have a plan for how to respond if he follows through? Because this is 1939 all over again, only with nuclear weapons on both sides.

For more on how to #StandWithUkraine, read my Medium post here.

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Filed under Corruption, Economics, False controversies, Poetry, Postmodernism

However, we will not inform…

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February 14, 2022 · 3:01 am

These citron trees…

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

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Filed under Economics, False controversies, Poetry

Tombstone

The climactic scenes with lawmen riding at breakneck speed while firing on fleeing suspects over a family vendetta in Tombstone haven’t aged well, now that we can mostly agree that even the police don’t have the right to shoot a fleeing suspect in the back. But in my book, this Western is still a cinema classic, if only for Val Kilmer’s iconic performance as Wyatt Earp’s cardsharp friend Doc Holliday.

This poem, based on the 82nd Psalm, doesn’t have any of Val Kilmer’s magic in it. It’s just about the Earp brothers’ conflicted feelings about going into business as private security men at a saloon, in a mining town where law and order operate only at the discretion of the local outlaw gangs. In this scene, Wyatt’s brothers make their reluctant decision to resume the role of lawmen – a role they thought they’d left behind for good when they moved west to settle down together with their families.

The youngest of them stood before his brothers,
and under Wyatt’s stare he spoke his mind.
“How long can we subsist on infamy,
and smile at outlaws over decks of cards?
Women and their children live here, too.
We could stand between them and these gunmen,
we are all they need for safety’s sake.
They don’t know where to turn when we hang back,
their desperation blinds them now to hope.
Everything we’ve built here is a sham.
When I was younger, I looked up to you,
I thought you stood for something more than this.
But in the end, you’ll let them slit our throats,
for we’re as mortal as the ones they’ve killed.”
They mayor slapped his back and thanked the Earps,
for making good the writ of Tombstone’s laws.

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Filed under Acting, Corruption, Poetry, Roll Credits

Claudius

This poem, based on the 81st Psalm, is inspired by the cinematic version of Sir Patrick Stewart’s opening scene in a Palm d’Or-winning performance as Claudius, in Gregory Doran’s 2008 production of Hamlet.

David Tennant stars as Hamlet, which is what drew me in. Rumor has it that if he hadn’t missed a few performances for spinal surgery due to an on-stage injury, Tennant would’ve picked up a Lawrence Olivier Award for this performance. Between these two hard-working actors, you could fill a trophy room to the point of clutter with television, film and theater awards…

The poem is in the voice of Claudius, of course. His opening lines set up Hamlet’s later quip about coronation fireworks being “more honored in the breach than the observance.”

Tonight we shall sing and give thanks,
to salute the strength of our realm.
Lift your spirits and move with the drum,
the tambour and pipe call the tune.
Bring forth the trumpets – the moon is new,
and our fortunes can only grow.
For it is the custom in Denmark,
to toast royal alliances well.
The manners are sensible here,
and this is no novel fashion,
none can remember another.
“A son need not mourn forever,
nor shroud himself in strange despair.
Your grief calls out – I would set you free.
I speak with a king’s magnanimity.
I admit, there is a test in this.
My court is your audience, prince.
I would have you soften your grief.
For how can a king command mourning,
when the queen’s new consort reigns?
I am the head of your royal house,
who names you the throne’s only heir.
Show me your needs and I’ll meet them.
Now you say not one word to us,
and ask no blessing, discontent.
I would give my wife’s son good leave
to take his own counsel, dear prince.
If our people are well moved
to settle on me a king’s cares,
with what alacrity I’d strike
to show our rivals our full strength!
Our enemies would be dismayed,
and back to hell their ghosts would slink.
Acknowledge, prince, my regency,
stay here, drink up the honeyed wine.”

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Filed under Acting, Directing, Dream Ensemble, Music, Poetry, Roll Credits