h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

*manifesto, I meant.

Oh, and sorry for intruding, but I perpetrated a poem today: A87788362

It's about Edgar Allan Poe and the Higgs boson.

I came across this item in Salon, and I thought, CC that you would enjoy this item as it talks about journeying and traveling. Also h2g2 might be talking about Chaucer in the near future.

http://www.salon.com/2013/03/13/where_are_the_women_kerouacs_partner/

With regards to Jack Kerouac, I have not read him but from Kesey's writings I gleaned that he was a narcissistic jerk and a champion MCP. A lot of hippie types were all about love and freedom as long as their womenfolk cleaned after them and cooked for them. that.

But it is true that the Interstate Highway system gave rise to there being too many serial killers in the United States of America.

hey all

yay!

Holy poets, thankyou! the poets are awakening now, incredible, the poets are awakening their poetry and waking me up, and I love it the way you say I perpetrated a poem today. , that's so funny, perpetrated a poem. .

Ah yes, I read this one five times over, in a sort of chant like whisper,

The real-beyond-real of
Mind over matter
Mind matters, matter
Doesn't matter matter
Stops but mind
Goes on, restarts,
Tries
Again
And again

That's like a mantra, now I'm singing it, , except it's not printed out like that, its printed out different on the page, which is all part of the picture of the poem, but I can't do the spacing ....

And then I read it over again, and again, the whole poem, in a chant like whisper, and now I feel like I'm crowned with a mantra, a rose and mantra crown, whatever that means.



It reminds me of a Michael McClure poem, my favourite Beat poet, better behaved I think than the others, writes to music, with Ray Manzarek, the keyboard player from The Doors.

Now, onto those other roguish Beat guys, and Elektra's posting.

That's me, a badly-behaved Beat poet. The Maynard G Kebs of h2g2.

*Krebs. Why can't I spell today?

That's a fascinating read, Elektra, think I'll stay home, or take the train, . I get it, I know what you mean about Kerouac and these guys. Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters, Timothy Leary and all of them, I just want to say 'oh for heavens sake go home and behave yourselves.' .

It was rough being a woman in the time of the Beats, and it was rough being a hippie chick in fact, I know people who were, and they tell me things.

I have this book, it's called Women of the Beat Generation, articles by Kerouac's daughter, articles by a lot of the women from that time, it was tough for them. It's a really really good book.

You know, I often think about this. . I might admire some of the art, and read about these people, appreciate some of the risks they took, but I don't think I could have survived living with the Beats, or the hippies. I could never have sat on the stoop with the Grateful Dead in Haight Ashbury. I could never have survived even the Bloomsbury Group, with their quick wit and bohemian intelligence.

I could never have lived in the Chelsea Hotel. I could never have lived around any of these wild artists, these bohemian lifestyles. .

I could have visted Aldous Huxley, I would have liked him. I like his grace.

Hmm, does lifestyle affect one's artistic output? Well, I'm a birdwatcher, who likes to stay home with her hubby, have hot showers, eat organic wholefoods and watch TV.

Interesting. Perhaps I should start to write rambles about avocets, and the delights of spinach.

No sir you are much much more than a Beat poet, better behaved than ... Maynard C Krebs .. who??

(heads off to check Maynard C Krebs)

Maynard G Krebs:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Byg9gMQhqC8

When we were little kids, this is what we knew of Beat poets.

We hadn't read Ginsberg yet.

I love Maynard G. Krebs!

How come I never heard of Maynard G. Krebs before? Now he's one of my favourite characters of all time. I love Maynard. Maynard is my guy. I just checked for box sets of the episodes, don't think you can get them. Can't believe I've been checking for Maynard G. Krebs episodes. I love this life, and what I learn from it. . .



It's been good to think about it all again.

About what?

About the Beats and the road and the way to go.

I've spent a lifetime resisting the way to go, the peer pressure to be wild or excessive or rebellious or brilliant or influential or deep or destructive or charismatic or political or intellectual..

.. when all I wanted was a small room, a simple life with a head full of empty space, living with nothing but my vase of plastic poppies, my synths (and my Maynard G Krebs box sets. ),

And now that's what I have, and my resistance has paid off, even though I was considered by my peer group to be boring, very boring, deeply boring, and completely boring, like really boring .



It's interesting that a few of the Beats did eventually turn to Buddhism, most notably Allen Ginsberg and Michael McClure.

I do like a bit of meditation, watch it all go by, file under mental junk. . I love that George Harrison song, The Inner Light

'Without going out of my door,
I can know all things on earth
Without looking out of my window
I can know the ways of heaven
The farther one travels, the less one knows..' George Harrison



(Attempts to sing it, making it sound all bendy and mystical the way that George Harrison does. Gives up, as scared cat exits room )

Cat? What cat? We have no cat.

PS

I had this dream last night ...

A deepsleep dream ...

I went into this record store to buy a wedding present, and found these two amazing rare books on the counter, really thick books with shiny paper, graphic novel type. It was as if they were the book version of some cult TV show, series one and two, with all the drawings and text and everything, and I couldn't believe it! These books were so rare.

But then I woke up, and now I can't remember them, which is so annoying, grrrrr, , and I might have to chase the imaginary cat just because.

Reminds me of those books you dreamt about, Willem, with all the paintings of all the insects in the world, that was amazing. The difference between you and me is that you could probably remember your dream books and replicate them ... ..

I forgot to say I found Drmitri's poem profound and thought- provoking. As cactuscafe said, it works as a mantra, to be chanted again and again.


I think the more we know about the world, humans, the universe, the less sure we are about anything. So we walk around, heads full of facts but totally bewildered. Who am I? How should I live? And what does it matter anyway?

I'm beginning to sound like one of the philosophers out of the Hitchhikers' Guide. So I probably ought to , go out for a walk...in the rain.

ah daydreamers, weaving your usual magics I see with your poetry and writings, good for the soul and

Thanks, MVP. I'm glad you liked that poem.

CC, on Youtube, just google 'DObie Gillis'. In 1951, the humorist Max Shulman (he's great) wrote a funny book called 'The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis'. Dobie is a dreamy teenager who falls in love with every girl he meets. He's very romantic.

His best friend Maynard is a dedicated Beatnik and jazz fan. He has a friend named Zelda Gilroy, who insists that she and Dobie are fated to be a couple. His long-suffering father, the grocer, is frustrated with him.

If you can find the book, I recommend it.

Here's an episode of the TV series:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVOqbjSUANA

Splendid! Thankyou Mister. This is marvellous, my weekend research, I'm glad I lived this long to learn about these people, they bring me hope and realisations.

I'm so happy.



Yes, ah yes.

Yes, ah yes?

Yes, ah yes.

Hullo all , and have a lovely weekend. I'm feeling partly philosphical, quite stupid, quite poetic, almost deep.

Notes on feeling almost deep

I walked out into the rain, and didn't think about much at all until my left shoe let in the water, and my ankle bone started to ache, all wrapped in a red soggy sock.

After this, I decided that if there's nothing to lose, then there's nothing to prove, or is it the other way round? and I saw a gorilla sitting in a tree in the market square in town.

True, there was this guy dressed as a gorilla sitting in a tree in the market square, in the rain, for twelve hours, collecting money for Comic Relief.

And I decided that the borderline between fact and fiction is thin, and there is a lot of potential for stories in this world, even my red soggy sock could feature, it just depends on the way that you say it, and how discerning your audience is.

And then .... ...... ....

Oh, have to go, its kasha time!! Kasha is roasted buckwheat, mmmmm we like kasha.

PS

What about the Stymphalian Birds then?

hah!

Just checking.

I bet you all know your Greek mythology.

I don't. I don't know anything about Greek mythology, but I had reason to check up on it today because someone in my life mentioned Hercules and the Augean Stables, and I checked the other labours, and I like the Stymphalian Birds, even though they are quite defensive.

I don't remember the Stymphalian birds. I'll have to look them up.

Gorillas - wow. Synchronicity. Last night, we were watching a Canadian TV series called 'Endgame - you'd like it, it's about a Russian chess master who has agoraphobia and lives in a hotel in Vancouver, only the actor is from Newfoundland. Anyway, the episode was called 'Gorillas in Our Midst', ha-hah.

There's an old experiment about this. Let me see if I can find it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vJG698U2Mvo

No comment...

yes, I saw the gorilla! , I saw the gorilla! did you see the gorilla? , we're into gorilla synchronicity here. I understand gorilla synchronicity, and the agoraphobic Russian chess master who lives in an hotel in Vancouver. I understand many things, many many things, except for the things I don't understand, which is also many.



Wait a minute, I'm suppose to be on weekend , have to rest in case I turn into an exploding pumpkin, , ah well, the gorilla synchronicity lured me back, it's not difficult to be lured back to hootoo.



It would an interesting study, Greek Mythology, except I'm not sure I have enough time. I should have begun when I was young.

Good to have a smattering of knowledge, though, impress people at parties.

'I've had a tough week, overcoming a flock of stymphalian birds would be nothing compared to the week I've had', I could say, and people would crowd around, and offer me tasty bites on sticks.



Do you still get things on sticks at parties? (I haven't been to a party for about twenty five years.) .

There was always cheese and pineapple, I liked that, except I never knew what to do with the stick afterwards. I suppose I could have aimed it like a javelin, pretend to stab a stymphalian bird with it, as if I were a Greek hero.

I think I'm starting to realise why I haven't been invited to a party for about twenty five years. .

I feel very happy tonight. OK, I'm going back to my weekend.

That was a magic description of a party. I was totally there, man - er, lady, er - like wow.

Yeah, what to do with the toothpicks? Remember wine and cheese parties? Oh, for a time machine, to go back to when you just needed a bit of wine and cheese, and a candle stuck in one of those bottles...green, funny-shaped, rose wine, wasn't it?

And somebody with a guitar, or else a stack of records...

They're all so sophisticated now, aren't they? *wistful smiley*

Hey bro

Yes, a time machine to a wine and cheese party, now there's a story. .

And then there was cheese fondue. I remember going to some nice peoples' place for cheese fondue, but I was nervous of the cheese fondue, and devoid of conversation. I edged around the fondue and eyed it from afar. .


I had a way to go, some inner lizards to encounter. . It's so good to come full circle and realise that I was OK all along, except now I want to get in a time machine and enjoy cheese fondue with those nice peopole, whoever they were.

I could discuss inner lizards. , although I don't know if inner lizards eat cheese fondue, even if they have three tails.