Intersections: Cordova at Main
Photographs ©Copyright by John-Ward Leighton
From Northwest corner
From Southeast corner
From Northeast corner
From Southwest corner
Well I have covered every intersection within three blocks of my place. I think maybe I have missed one. I have not done the crossings of Hastings Street except at Heartbreak and Pain and only some of Pender Street. I’ll get to them in the future and use the break to photograph the street concerts of the annual Vancouver Jazz Festival.
The muse has said, “Enough already.” So Late Night Radio will have to suffice for the poetry fans for the next little while. My mood is in a bit of a down stroke and I didn’t get out of my place all day: spent most of it compiling e-mail addresses into the dysfunctional Address Book Application that comes with OS X. On top of that I have found that Blog-City blocks the link to “Adbusters” even though it says that the link is installed on the edit-widget page. I’ll thwart that by publishing any of the Adbuster pages I find interesting.
Listening to CBC2 and they have some recordings of some woman’s poetry. It is delivered with an ambient noise accompanying the words delivered in a feminine monotone with all the life of road kill and the banality of a perfectly conceived Jeff Wall masterpiece. The perfect kind of shit loved by the Canada Council and their ilk that believe that the more obscure and difficult the meaning the more it becomes “Art”. Of course the woman is based in Montreal and that large sucking sound you hear is taxpayers dollars pouring into the ever greedy “ART” scene there for the bribes the rest of us pay to keep these dufusses in Canada.
Poetry, however, is not a competitive sport and just because I may not like some of the work I read or hear does not mean that it is not good. I don’t have to like everything and should not be jealous of whatever success other poets achieve. I apologize for the bad review but then again I didn’t name the woman or the poetry which is review enough, ha ha. How’s that for faint praise.
This is the hour when CBC celebrates the sound of finger nails being dragged across black boards and calls it new music. Apparently this piece is about a male concert goer who imagines that the violinist, playing the solo, is having an affair with his wife and leaves the concert, goes home and kills his wife. After listening to the “music” I would not kill my wife – I would kill the violinist and the orchestra and the composer and then annually go to the grave yard and piss on their graves. Come on John – tell us how you really feel, ha ha.
La Dolce Vita!
©Copyright June 18, 2008 by John-Ward Leighton