e-Cuneiform scratchings

Click to hear Dumbfounded's remix of Aloe Blacc's 'I Need a Dollar'

Postscript about Haiku and American Sentences

First, technical definitions of the poetic forms I play with.

The English language version of the haiku is grammatically stricter (though semantically looser) than the original, Japanese form of this poetical form.

English Haiku are usually required to have three lines with 5 syllables on the first line, 7 syllables on the second line and 5 syllables on the final line.

The American Sentence is a poetical form structurally closer to the Japanese haiku format in some ways. It requires 17 syllables in one sentence and was created by the American poet Allen Ginsberg.

Yes, I know that there are content issues regarding what topics are permissible in Japanese haiku (Yes, I know that I write senryu, not haiku, subject-wise.) and that Japanese poets don't count syllables as they are generally understood in English.

I am not overly concerned.

If you are, I am sure I have discussed it sometime before. Check the haiku topic listing and have fun.

Chinese wages, fashion and factories

2010-08-02T23:17:00.004+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

Last Friday I posted about the cost of going to a high-end, fashionable beauty parlour in rural China.

I wrote about how an hour and a half visit to a high-end beauty salon to get a full hair wash, cut and styling, blow dry, and an obligatory head and neck massage, all with the latest fashion styling trends costs a client the princely sum of 13 RMB (renminbi), also known as 13 yuan.

Which is approximately 1.47 euros.
Or 1.91 USD.
Or 1.98 CDN.
Or 2.03 CHF...

Which should help explain why Western factories have flocked to China over the last 30 years, and, simultaneously, why Chinese workers are, now, starting to strike.

I don't know exactly how hair salons are run in China, but, I assume that they are run similarly to how they are run in the West.

In the West, the salon owner builds the salon and markets the salon.

Stylists (barbers) then rent a chair from the salon; the rental price usually is half the price of services rendered by the hair stylist.

I suspect that the same system is in place in China.

If this is so, the hairstylist at the high-end beauty salon I profiled on Friday takes home half of that 13 yuan charged for each hour and a half (approximately) that the stylist spends on a client.

That amounts to 6.5 yuan.

Which is approximately 0.74 euros.
Or 0.96 USD.
Or 0.99 CDN.

Or 1.02 CHF...

Let us assume that the stylist gets ten paying clients, back to back, in a day.

That means that for 15 hours work the stylist would keep 65 yuan...

...approximately 7.35 EUR.

Or 9.55 USD.
Or 9.85 CDN.
Or 10.15 CHF...

(The rates for 1 1/2 hours, one client visit, were all rounded up.)

...Of course, clients are not lined up out the door for the most exclusive beauty salon in town...

...Stylists might spend the whole day at the salon...

...At least 15 hours...

...But, only one of the seats had a client getting a haircut when your humble scribe poked his head in; the other chairs were empty...

...So, these hair stylists were living on much, much less than 65 yuan for a day's work...

And, please remember that they have to buy all of their own supplies out of that gross amount.

Stylists need to supply their own scissors, hair dryers, shampoo that they use on clients, hair supplies, et cetera...

And, as this is a high-end boutique, the hair stylists have to look upmarket and buy fancier clothes so that their clientele know that they are truly visiting an upmarket salon...

This is why Western industrialists shifted production to China.

It costs less to live in China, if you live life according to average Chinese standards.

For comparison, the 2010 federal minimum wage in the U.S.A. is $5.15 USD/hour.

If our hairdresser worked for a salary in the USA, and received the federal minimum wage for that 15 hours work, then our hairdresser would make $77.25 USD for 15 hours work in a day, assuming no overtime pay.

Again, for comparison, our hypothetical Chinese hairdresser could make a maximum of $9.55 USD for that same 15 hours of back to back work on ten clients in China...

These 'cheap' 13 RMB haircuts are not actually cheap to Chinese workers; these haircuts are only cheap to foreigners who receive far more than the unobtainable $9.55 USD for 15 hours of work.

As workers do not make a lot of money, prices can remain depressed--including the price of labour in China.

But, the Chinese factory workers, who have been making the baubles and the necessary items for the wealthy West, have become more keen to be able to afford and possess these same baubles and necessities for themselves.

And, they have become jealous of the Chinese factory owners who have become rich off the sweat of their bodies.

And, Gentle Reader, this goes a long way to explaining why we are finally starting to read about strikes in Chinese factories.

Strikes have been going on for years, but were always kept controlled, and hidden--even during the Asian Economic Crisis (1997-1999).

But, worker discontent is so widespread that strikes cannot be hushed up anymore.

Besides, the existence of strikes (and their possible recurrence in the future) are useful for applying pressure on foreign companies during future negotiations regarding future investments... ...and regarding future technology transfer agreements for access to cheap labour...

...Especially if the state guarantees to keep workers more in line, in the future, as workers have been kept in check in the past...

Now, however, Chinese factory workers want and expect to receive more for their blood, sweat and tears.

Otherwise, those factory labourers will turn their backs on their foremen, and on their employers, and head back to their originating villages...

Which is happening now.

Which is why cheap labour is flooding into southern China from neighbouring countries in South-east Asia....

The bright side of the coin for the foreign firms who have invested in Chinese factories is that if they start paying factory workers more then that mythical Chinese market of over one billion consumers will finally start to become a reality... ...and the factories will be able to sell to Chinese, not just to overseas markets.

...So, the music for today is...

This song is available from Dumbfounded's website, here...

Tschuess,

Sepiru Chris

What to do on a sultry day...

2010-07-30T09:00:00.005+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

OK.

I am trying to get back into the e-swing of things.

Baby steps.

Even shaky babies can walk.

Eventually.

So, how does that connect with the title image today?

It's advertising.

I'm advertising my shakiness, at least as regards to posting reliability.

And that girl is advertising her beauty.

Which you can get, too.

From a tiny little hairstylist's place of business, in a rural town--Kaifeng, China.

...

...Hair stylists for her...

As you can read, they offer a full wash, cut, blow dry, and the obligatory head and neck massage, all with the latest fashion styling trends.

The head and neck massage, at least twenty minutes long, is so obligatory that it's not even listed.

But, it's there or this business wouldn't be since all of their competitors offer it.

And all this for the princely sum of 13 renminbi, sometimes known as 13 yuan.

Which is approximately 1.47 euros.

Or 1.91 USD.

Or 1.98 CDN.

Or 2.03 CHF.

...You are going to the top hairstylist in town, after all...

(That's real red brick; not some cheap linoleum facade.)

...Hence the high price...

Now, I could discuss the other commercial aspects of hairdressers throughout Asia.

How barber poles with rotating spirals mark out places to lose your tension... ...after letting it build a bit first...

But, maybe I'll leave brothels for another day.

After, all would need to figure out what the going rate is these days...

That post would, however, put a whole new spin onto the idea of a barbershop quartet.

...Wicked, torrid thoughts... (obedient sin--for Murat)...

Tschuess,

Chris

Ah... and the music for today, being a warm summer day, is...

Click to hear 'Cicadas' by the Cowboy Junkies

Click to hear Min Hui-Fen (閔惠芬), play 'Song Of Birds In A Desolate Mountain' on the erhu, the classical two-stringed Chinese folk violin.

Tschuess,

Chris

3WW CXCIX

2010-07-28T19:05:00.019+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

It is 3WW and, after a four month absence, I am back.

Hopefully, for a while.

This week the 3WW community received these three words as prompts:

abuse, cramp, and hatred.

As usual, I proffer three haiku, each with an American Sentence title.

So, without further ado... abuse, cramp, and hatred....

Runner's cramps felled her, felled her dreams; she blamed her trainer, not her drinks

cramps hit her mid stride
crampled she crumpled, bellowed
abuse, wild hatred

Heshiveredinthedarkcrevasse, searched for his wits, way out and ice axe.

Abused crampons cracked,
slid off... ... Red.Redhat.Hatred...
Blooddripswet,freezes.

**A stunned climber who fell down a crevasse might work his way from red, red hat, hat red to realising he has a bloody head. Or, at least, a bloody hat...

'Papa' gave kids balloons, then injected death straight into their small hearts.

Hot hatred cramps thoughts;
cold hatred cramps grace, begets
horrific abuse.

**Oswald "Papa" Kaduk was a butcher before the Second World War began.

He became a totally different butcher before that war had ended.

Oswald joined the SS, fought on the Eastern Front, and, injured, ended up at Auschwitz-Birkenau as a guard and moved 'up' the ranks.

The Final Solution was the Nazi plan to rid the world of the "lebensunwertes Leben", those considered by the Nazis to be unworthy of existence. Nazi ideology included gypsies, homosexuals, mentally handicapped people, and, of course, Jews in the list of peoples undeserving of life.

As part of the "Final Solution", 85% of the Jewish population of Europe in Nazi controlled lands were to be murdered as quickly as possible. The other 15% were to be worked to a point just before death and then murdered.

Infamous Auschwitz and lesser-known Birkenau were significant cogs in the Nazi "Final Solution".

Auschwitz warehoused around 30,000 victims being worked to death at any given point in time; adjoining Birkenau warehoused around 100,000 more victims.

Men who survived, after arrival, the selection of the 'lucky' 15%, statistically, survived for six months to a year. Women who survived selection generally survived for four months.

Children almost invariably were not selected and would generally die within an hour of arriving at the camp.

Almost a quarter million children were slaughtered at Birkenau.

Oswald Kaduk (1906-1997) was nicknamed "Papa" because of his 'love' for kids.

Papa gave children who arrived at Birkenau a balloon.

Then Papa would inject a needle, and phenol, through their chest and into their heart.

Papa did this ten times a minute; one child murdered every six seconds.

All for cold, calculating, racial hatred.

Tschuess,

Chris

And... ...the music for today is...

OK. I couldn't find Min Hui Fen on Amazon, but this website sells other cds and tracks by Min Hui Fen...

Tschuess,

Chris

Click to hear The Be Good Tanya's 'The Littlest Bird' from their album 'Blue Horse'

Postscript about Haiku and American Sentences

First, technical definitions of the poetic forms I play with.

The English language version of the haiku is grammatically stricter (though semantically looser) than the original, Japanese form of this poetical form.

English Haiku are usually required to have three lines with 5 syllables on the first line, 7 syllables on the second line and 5 syllables on the final line.

The American Sentence is a poetical form structurally closer to the Japanese haiku format in some ways. It requires 17 syllables in one sentence and was created by the American poet Allen Ginsberg.

Yes, I know that there are content issues regarding what topics are permissible in Japanese haiku and that Japanese poets don't count syllables as they are generally understood in English.

I am not overly concerned.

If you are, I am sure I have discussed it sometime before. Check the haiku topic listing and have fun.

Blue skies and bike seats

2010-07-26T09:00:00.002+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

Blue skies are apparently ahead.

Which would be good, as storm clouds have raged, or, worse, droned for a while.

For anyone who actually ever checks over here, yet another mea culpa.

The past couple of years have been a bit trying, medically, as interesting diagnoses come and go.

Parkinson's disease one day.

Multiple sclerosis, another.

Fortunately, both of those were rejected after extensive testing.

Unfortunately, the underlying conditions were ultimately described as a syndrome; diagnostic shorthand for "we know what symptoms you present, and they are real, but we have no idea what the underlying cause is, or how, ultimately, to treat you".

Great.

Really.

I really didn't want Parkinson's, or MS, true.

And I really didn't want the underlying conditions, either.

Another set of conditions were ultimately resolved in a similar way--by calling them a syndrome, again.

Which was all sort of fine.

Ish.

Until, rather recently, there was another concern.

Doctors thought that I might have pancreatic cancer.

And pancreatic cancer is really not good.

Whilst life is terminal (we ride a sinking boat from birth, to paraphrase some Buddhists), pancreatic cancer tends to accelerate the submersion like a torpedo hitting amidship.

Pancreatic cancer led to an extensive pharmacological diet aimed at whacking me in the belly--amidship my ship.

Now, for your humble scribe, pharmacological diets can be rather interesting, and not just amidship. My upper decks and command centres take hits of their own.

Fermented sugar, alone, has interesting effects while stronger pharmawonders tend to bend the hues of the spectrum and provide organic whammy bars to your humble scribe's sensory interpretation systems...

(Your humble scribe hallucinates, visually and aurally (hypnogogic hallucinations), upon taking Tylenol 3s, which my Southern Cousins would call Tylenol with Codeine... ...most people take Tylenol 3s with much less ado simply for pain relief.)

...But, my big pharma anti-pancreatic cancer diet held new combinatorial side-effects for my pleasure and enjoyment...

...such as autodigestion of my cartilage and tendons...

(...mmm...)

...and total-body tendonitis...

(...woohoo).

And then, just before I took off to India, I was told that pancreatic cancer was not, in fact, a concern.

Presumably a new syndrome diagnosis will be offered to me to replace the diagnosis taken away from me but, again, I am rather fine with this.

I still have a pharma diet, which is a much reduced pharma diet from my 'peak', which is good (ish) though I've only managed two non-pharma meals in the last seven days...

(And yet those love handles still persist!)

(...Do you actually have to want to be an ascetic (rather than being forced into asceticism) to get those sveltish lines of Siddhartha Gautama, post his "Great Departure" (when he left his Father's kingdom, and luxury, to live life as an ascetic)?)

Anyway.

All this is by way of an explanation for my absence, as I had promised a few people that I would write, ages ago.

And then broke those promises.

Now you know why.

Anyway, enough whining.

I've been gone a rather long time; I am trying to get back onto the saddle.

I hope to write more soon, and maybe even read.

Till then...

Tschuess,

Chris

Click to hear Danny Elman's 'Etiquette Lesson' from the 1990 film 'Edward Scissorhands'

3WW CLXXXII (3WW3)

2010-03-25T01:09:00.005+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

It's 3WW time, again.

This week the prompt words (for prose or poetry) are brazen, hunger, and nuzzle.

...I think I know what Thom, keeper of the words for 3WW, was thinking about this week...

Your starter is a titled picture with, as always, a description if you run your mouse over the image.

Then, as usual, I serve up three haiku/senryu, each with an American Sentence title.

Sometimes the poetry is annotated, in green (sometimes heavily, sometimes not).

For dessert, a musical offering.

If you're like me, have dessert first and enjoy it while reading.

So, away.

...I have to get back to unpacking...

...And rebuilding furniture...

...And moving boxes only to move other boxes in a maddening, real-life Tower of Hanoi puzzle in Hong Kong...

We are in the midst of moving and we have too much stuff.

At least the Internet was reinstalled today...

And, with that, let the games begin with brazen, hunger, and nuzzle...

Glance, gaze, hunger; eros pants, desire trips up logic, andweleavequick

slicksideslipslideslicks
brazennuzzlelovehunger
...and the night's still young...

Better than a cup of no tea is a breast with no cover; pop Zen.

Tantric zen hunger;
Zen--bra or no bra (zen-ness).
Nuzzle breasts. Or not.

I have had fun playing with (the ideas of) religions for the last few years, and am heading off, shortly, for Japan, land of Zen and Zen koans.

The Japanese, like your humble scribe, have been known to enjoy both fleeting moments and the expression of ideas regarding those moments.

From the Zen practice 'The Art of Tea' we get the famous Japanese saying "Ichi-go ichi-e" which relates to the idea that every moment is transient and that mindfulness is important as after a moment has passed it is gone forever.

Even the art of drinking tea allows a Zen adept to found schools of thought devoted to simple moments, like making or consuming tea... the Art of Tea.

After all, mindfulness allows one to find beauty and awareness in everything, even in the preparation and enjoyment of tea.

The Japanese love their tea; one Japanese proverb is that "If a man has no tea in him he is incapable of understanding truth and beauty".

In Japanese zazen philosophy, words are encumbrances to the expression of thought. The idea itself is considered central and physical experience can no longer be adequately expressed by words--or be as powerful as the ideas about that physical experience.

This is where I, sometimes, part ways with Japanese zazen philosophy.

The concept of ideas trumping experienced reality is why zazen monks extol the virtues of drinking, and savouring (in their mind), a cup of no-tea.

These monks are concentrating on the essence of tea without worrying about the minutiae of actually drinking tea.

I know that these are monks, but what would they think of sex? This is what I want to know.

So, I started wondering, as one does, and as I was playing with words for 3WW, what tantric Zen sex would be like.

Would Zen monks even need to touch?

Would they enjoy the idea of sex as much as the Zen adept enjoys his cup of no tea?

And how much enjoyment would that really provide?

Would the idea more than compensate for the actual experience?

I, Gentle Reader, know that I would never accomplish this--I like the real thing.

I know my limitations.

I would play with Zen but stay with sophistry and try to trick girls out of their bras, insisting that the Zen bra, the idea of a bra negating the need for a 'real' bra, was sufficient.

(I think that a young Plato might have appreciated this idea in the dark cave of his mind...)

And, then, I would likely leave the monastic life once I had convinced young women of the beauty of no Bra.

And that was the sole point of this particular haiku.

Much ado about nothing, some would say.

Or about everything, as I might say.

I might not be mindful of every moment, but some... well... enough said.

Every day, every hour, desire consumes, hunger wracks mind, soul, body...

Clean Hunger. Honest
greed, desire. Brazen nuzzle.
Sucks teat, milks Mom's love.

Tschuess,

Chris

Ah... and the music for today is...

Tschuess,

Chris

Click to hear a reconfiguration of Billy Idol's 'White Wedding' by the folk ladies 'the harvey girls'

3WW CLXXXI (3WW3)

2010-03-18T00:54:00.002+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

It's 3WW time, again.

This week the prompt words for prose or poetry are pulse, shard, and weary.

Your starter is a titled picture with, as always, descriptions if you run your mouse over the image.

Then, as usual, I serve up three haiku/senryu, each with an American Sentence title.

For dessert, a musical offering.

If you're like me, have dessert first and enjoy it while reading.

So, away.

I have to get back to packing.

We are in the midst of moving and we have too much stuff.

So, sorry if I try to store some words here, on the web, but there is no room in the stables tonight...

And, with that, let the games begin with pulse, shard, and weary...

On safari, the carnivore rules over all--- ROWRRR... (sob) ...CruNCH ... ... ... ... ... ... (...no pulse...)

shards of meat (and bone)
but, no pulse (legume, bean, pea)
weary vegan pales...

The origin of glass, a Western, or a Near (not Far) Eastern, tale...

Pliny's Phoenicians
found proto-shards where weary
sailors' fires throbbed, pulsed.

What is this poem all about?

Well, Gentle Reader, a circuitous explanation ensues. Sorry.

You ought to know, by now, that your humble scribe is (currently) based in Hong Kong.

Hong Kong is right beside China.

Hong Kong is even in China, if you believe the Mainlanders rather than your visa requirements.

Hong Kong is certainly within the media orbit of modern China.

Recent Chinese 'historical' pop culture movies (Red Cliff, for example) extol the fact that ancient China invented almost everything.

Like soccer. (A specious claim, at best).

Your humble scribe and Heroine find themselves amused to note that almost all things are Chinese these days.

Soccer/football?
Surely Chinese.

CERN and the Higgs Boson?
Surely Chinese.

The alphabet?
Mmmhmm.

Crime?
Vice? ...

...Well, those are obviously foreign.

...Especially when you read or hear the news, in China...

But, glass?

Glass is definitely not Chinese.

Glass is one of those areas where, if you are a Westerner, you can hold your head high on the origins of innovation front because the ancient Chinese did not invent glass.

The Chinese 'discovered' glass only from overland traders sometime in the end of the Spring and Autumn period of Chinese dynastic history (770 BC - 476 BC) or in the beginning of the Warring States period (475 BC - 221 BC).

Pliny the Elder (23-79), however, gives us the historic/mythic origin theory that Phoenician sailors (Phoenicians are those Fertile Crescent trading folks whom most Lebanese claim as their forebears) discovered glass sometime around 5000 BC.

Pliny's Phoenician sailors/merchants were cooking their meal of reconstituted pulses in pots over fires on the beach as they rested their weary bodies...

Those Phoenician pots, in turn, while cooking the pulses, rested upon blocks of nitrates which the sailors/merchants were carrying.

And, as those blocks of nitrate melted, from the heat of cooking fires, the melted nitrate fused with silica, the sand on the beach, to form 'ur-glass'--the original man-made glass.

This originating glass was not only clear(ish) but, when the half-melted nitrate trading blocks were forcibly removed, this proto-glass would have resolved into shards of glass...

...which would have engrossed the attention of sailors, weariness forgotten, with sharp shards of a novel, transparent solid in front of them and their bellies full of reconstituted pulses.

See how easy this fit into today's 3WW words?

3WW even allowed me to point out Western technical/innovation prowess.

Even Mesopotamian prowess.

For, despite Pliny's tale of the Phoenicans of around 5000 BC, the first archaeological record of glass comes to us from pre-Bronze Age Mesopotamia--from the pre-Sumerian Uruk Period (4000 BC - 3100 BC ).

Sure, this is almost a thousand years before my beloved Akkadians spring to prominence in Mesopotamia, but, for once, I can write about something that was not invented first in China.

Thanks, Thom (Keeper of 3WW and provisioner of words).

Words like these make my day.

(Although, Thom, I would love the challenge of an x, y and z themed 3WW, too--as you suggested on your prompt page...)

To the victors go the spoils, and thanks, of royalty; to the writers...

pusillanimous;
lacking heroes' pulse, courage.
Weary shards of men...

(Of course, today, the writers get royalties.

But, not if they publishes on the web...)

There you go, hepcats.

Maybe when I am less bone weary the haiku will pop out easier.

Tonight, well, this is better than nought.

I hope.

Ah... and the music for today, as I talked of reconfigured history, is...

the harvey girls are found here...

Tschuess,

Chris

Click to hear 'At an Arabian House Party' by Raymond Scott and his Orchestra

3WW CLXXX

2010-03-10T20:43:00.005+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

It is 3WW time.

This week the prompt words are modify, obedient, and veil.

Your starter is a titled picture with, as always, descriptions if you run your mouse over the image.

Then, as usual, I serve up three haiku/senryu, each with an American Sentence title.

For dessert, a musical offering.

If you're like me, have dessert first, and enjoy it while reading.

So, away.

Let the games begin with modify, obedient, and veil...

Please, Sir, up or down, in or out, fast or slow, ..., ...how do you like it, sir?

A veil keeps sin out.
But, modified, with shimmies...
...obedience in...

** Bearing in mind that not everyone speaks English as a first language, all my poems are meant to be read aloud.

The last line of this haiku has a greater effect, I think, when these two words are in the same eigenspace of comprehension as their oral/aural equivalent...

...'obedient sin'...

...then shimmy the two in your mind...

...obedient sin/obedience in...

...then tell me what is obedient, and to whom, and you're a better man than I am, Gunga Din.

Sarkozy wants her to be strong (obedient); "Modify thy veil!"

Obedience or
Obeisance? Try my veil./? It
modifies me?/. Thee?/.

** With a Gallic shrug, and a governmental tug, her veil could be gone... ...Sarkozy, President of France, declared that the burqa, the full body 'veil', is not welcome in France. Six months later, a French parliamentary committee recommended banning full veils from public buildings.

Now your humble scribe is not going to be drawn into a discussion of the nuances between purdahs and burqas, hijabs and niqabs.

One bottom line is that either people have freedom to choose their elements of expression in apparel or they do not.

And, of course, properly, both sides of the debate can argue that they are for the
freedom to choose elements of expression in apparel and that the other side is against the same proposition.

Which, in a way, is part of the wonderful duality of life. Long live the differences.

Point and counterpart sometimes produce harmony, but, today, in France, they produce dissonance. And the score has not even been finished--it is certainly not settled.

I've tried, in the poem, to shimmy between the interrogative and the declarative and it is meant to feel dissonant.

I'm just not so sure that it works.

Like France's policy.

At 'de Ent o' days, when 'de Taliban come, sleepin', not fightin's, sin!

Oh Bee, 'de Ent' comes!
Modify 'dose bad ways quick!
I won't wear no veil!

Tschuess,

Chris

Tschuess,

Chris

3WW CLXXIX

2010-03-03T22:07:00.005+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

It's 3WW.

This week the prompt words are amaze, frail, and sacred.

Your starter is a titled picture with, as always, descriptions if you run your mouse over the image.

Then, as usual, I serve up three haiku/senryu, each with an American Sentence title.

For dessert, I close off with a musical offering.

So, promptly, away.

Let the games begin with amaze, frail, and sacred...

Amazing Grace, Newton's sweet sound--though he'd sold men, bound, in slavery...

frail prayers waft up,
borne with sacred incense swirls;
plead amazing grace

** True, John Newton (1725-1807) did end life campaigning with John Wilberforce for the abolition of slavery, but he started life as a slaver, and, though he had changed careers to become a curate, he had not denounced slavery when he penned 'Amazing Grace' in 1779.

The British Slave Trade Act of 1807, which Wilberforce and Newton campaigned for, became law little more than 9 months before Newton's death and abolished slavery in the British Empire.

Britain would take until 1833 to determine that slavery as an institution was inherently illegal.

That said, the Western world would not see slavery as being a jus cogens, an international legal wrong, or, more specifically, that a jus cogens itself could exist until the conventions for drafting the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties were commenced in 1949 and the text finally adopted in 1969 (see Article 53). It would still take until 1980 for the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, 1969, to enter into force.

This whole 'aside' merely is my way of pointing out the frailty of some prayers, especially those implicitly contained within 'Amazing Grace', penned at the time by an unrepentant ex-slaver and slave trader.

Forget storge, philia, and agape; give me eros each day.

frail hearts quail, tremble.
love is sacred? hah! Violent!
stunned, amazed, we pant.

** Storge, philia, agape, and eros are the four forms of love in Classical Greek thought.

Storge, στοργή, refers to loving, familial affection.

Philia, φιλία, refers to friendship--the love between friends.

Agape, αγάπη, refers to an abiding, deep love and contentment.

Eros, έρως, finally, refers to passionate love. Eros doesn't have to be sexual, but Plato's modification of love, Platonic love, a non-sexual love, is a modification of eros--which point to the importance of sexuality in the non-Platonic eros.

Crowds queued (Paris-style) for her; Quasimodo tried to save her; she died.

frail Esmeralda's
sacred sanctuary fails;
amazed Q's heart breaks

** If you haven't read Victor Hugo's (1802-1885) 'Notre-Dame de Paris', or, 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame" then this little piece will surely fail. The only thing I will point to here is the ambiguity of 'Q' in the last line.

Normally this 'Q' would clearly refer to Quasimodo, but, with the title of this poem, 'Q' could also be the Parisian crowd which 'queued' outside of Notre-Dame to show its support of Esmeralda--fabulously misread by Louis XI, the King of France, in the book....

*** As per queuing 'Paris-style', don't think Paris of Hector, or of Helen, think French Revolution.

Think Eugène Delacroix and 'La Liberté guidant le peuple', or, 'Liberty guiding the people'...

An aside and a query. Does "to hector" in English come from Homer's Iliad?

Hector (eldest son of King Priam [of Troy] and Hecuba), who berated his brother, Paris, with lines like "Paris, you pretty boy, you woman seducer, why were you ever born? Why weren't you killed before your wedding day"...

Tschuess,

Chris

Ah... and the music for today is...

Hmm. My data storage site appears to be down...

I'll have to try to add the music later...

Click to hear a neo-baroque (sort of) cover of 'Alejandro' arranged by Kenny Mellman (The original song is by Lady GaGa, she of the neo-baroque wig at the 2010 Brit Music Awards referenced, obliquely, in the music selection for last week's 3WW musical accompaniment)

3WW CLXXVIII

2010-02-24T18:40:00.002+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

It's 3WW, again.

This week the prompt words are generate, meager, and tease.

As usual, I serve up three haiku/senryu, each with an American Sentence title.

Things have still not hit equilibrium in Hong Kong, yet, so I am woefully behind in reading, responding, and even posting, myself.

Nonetheless, I am here for Thom's prompts.

Your starter is a titled picture with, as always, descriptions if you run your mouse over the image.

For dessert, I close off with a musical offering, which, this week, is related to last week's offering.

So, promptly, away.

Let the games begin with generate, meager, and tease...

Fresh officer learns quickly that herbal teas aren't wanted at the front.

meager teas, hot-wet,
generates no goodwill, sir.
serve joe booze instead.

** ... joe is a US slang term for coffee whilst Joe is a US slang term for either an "ordinary Joe" or an ordinary soldier, a la G.I. Joe. my lack of capitalization yields ambiguity...

High tension cabling required for these; restrain the dogs of war on base.

Meagre tees. Wet, thin,
strained, stretched, full to bursting
generate ten-shun.

** ... "Ten-Shun" is a North American slang term, on the military parade ground, for 'attention'. It is usually phrased and delivered in the imperative tense. And the implicit puppies in the American Sentence title are also a slang term for breasts. Usually women's. Oh. And, after Heroine testing, it might be noted that tees are tee shirts...

When home's an alley and the only purr is your belly... ...gotta eat...

Meager tease goes home
hungry. Generate coin, food...
Rough trade; go pro, boy.

** ..."Rough trade" is a slang term for a male prostitute.

Tschuess,

Chris

And the music for today is...

Kenny Mellman runs the blog 'our hit parade' found here (Big shout out to Kenny!)

Tschuess,

Chris

Postscriptum

Last week I gave you a baroque 'Ciaccona', a chaconne, which I said always reminded me of modern dance music as baroque chaconnes have a driving bass line with a series of short harmonic variations which dance around that beat.

I also said that I enjoy dance music.

Rereading last week's post, I thought of today's musical piece by Kenny Mellman.

Sure, Kenny uses a banjo (I think) rather than a harpsichord, but the plucking is similar to a baroque harpsichord. And, Kenny uses his voice as a driving bass line with a series of short harmonic, plucked banjo variations dancing around that bass line.

...Baroque to Dance-Electro-Pop and back to baroque...

(R)evolution?

"Music evolution change
Sometimes the common makes it sound strange"

Buckshot Lefonque

Gentle Reader (and listener), if you think that my musical selection this week is akin to a malformed pearl, then I am delighted.

(A malformed pearl, in Portuguese, is now uma pérola malformado. But, in the seventeenth century, a malformed pearl, or a misshapen pearl, was uma barroca, from whence we get Baroque.)

Tschuess,

Chris

Click to hear the baroque 'Ciaccona', composed by Philipp Jacob Rittler (ca. 1637-1690) and performed by Anima Mea (Ute Hartwich, Baroque Trumpet with Georg Kallweit, Baroque Violin, Directed by Ute Hartwich)

3WW CLXXVII

2010-02-17T12:40:00.015+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

It is 3WW. Again.

Not so much love for my loose id postscript for last week's 3WW, but I take what I get, and I did like what I did receive. (What a suck, no?)

Anyway, thanks are due to Thom, as usual.

This week the 3WW word prompts are occur, ragged, and tidy.

As usual, I present three haiku/senryu, each with an American Sentence title.

So, let the games begin with occur, ragged, and tidy....

OH! You might note that I have gone with aural interpretations of the words, and visual sleight-of-hand, too, just for fun. (Mine.)

And, lastly, the Heroine of this site recommended that folks read the green explanations under two of the poems... ...and, without further adieu...

William shakes fist, spear; shivers the air with his tempestuous anger...

Oh cur! Oh ragged
Cur! Hang cur! Hang you whoreson...
[Tidy curse for foes!]

**The Tempest, Act 1, Scene 1
Antonio: "Hang cur! Hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!"
William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

In soft, modern days and ages the old lives on, even if not here...

(D)ragged over thresholds--
out of tidy home to hell;
forced weddings occur.

To test his theory the new priest undressed her, removed her rags, and then...

Tidy ochre scraps
swept into neat piles by priest.
D-ragged... ...Mummy gone...

**Mummies, those fabulous Egyptians whose bodies were rendered less mortal, ultimately derive their name from bitumen, a heavy petroleum product, once worked into devotional art by the Medes, early Persians, and by others.

It was believed, from the colour of the preserved corpses, that bitumen, mum in Persian, thence mumia in Latin, thence Mummy in English, had been used in the mummification process.

The modern priestly caste, sometimes known as scientists, de-ragged, or removed the wrappings on the corpses--the Mummies--to check, and found no trace of bitumen in the Mummies' corpses.... so, linguistically, the Mummy was a Mummy no more (no bitumen).

Tschuess,

Chris

Ah... and the music for today is...

PS. As an aside the baroque musical style 'Ciaccona', possibly more familiar to most through its French name, chaconne, always reminds me of modern dance music; it has a driving bass line with a series of short harmonic variations which dance around that beat. I enjoy dance music (I enjoy dancing) and tend not to be too epochcentric... Hopefully some of you will enjoy this selection.

(Admittedly, the beat per minute rate of this Ciaccona is slower than most modern dance and electronic music, but most ravers and dubsteppers are wearing clothing easily weighed in micrograms, not the kilograms of baroque outfits, not to mention those Lady GaGa-esque baroque wigs...)

Tschuess,

Chris

Click to hear a beating from David Guetta, featuring KiD CuDi, entitled "Memories"

3WW CLXXVI (postscript) (Big Egos. Loose Ids.)

2010-02-11T08:48:00.011+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

I am back with a 3WW CLXXVI postscript (in haiku[ish] format with an American Sentence title)...

This week, again, the words are lucid, righteous, and salvage...

Mobsters swagger through moral wastelands, diminishing debtors and debts...

Big egos. Loose ids.
Sal Vaggio, Righteous Lee;
made men collect debts.

Tschuess,

Chris

** For non-English-as-a-first-language speakers, a made man, or a wise guy, are other names for a mafioso--a member of the Cosa Nostra, the mob. Hence two mafiosi, two wise guys, or, two mobsters, would be made men.

**Further, for id, and ego, think of Sigmund Freud and his id, ego, and super ego. Or, for German-readers, think of das Es, das ich, und das Ueber-Ich...

And the music for the postscript is...

Tschuess,

Chris

Click to hear a French Canadian jazz cover of Technotronic's 1989 hit 'Pump up the Jam' by The Lost Fingers

3WW CLXXVI

2010-02-10T22:59:00.015+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

It is 3WW and I am back after another absence (see prior post).

This week the words are lucid, righteous, and salvage.

As usual (when I am present), I offer three haiku (ish), each with an American Sentence title.

For those that don't know, the 'Coles Notes' version explanation of Haiku and American Sentences follow first, with a bit of extra fluff--or dander, and then come the poems...

Haiku originated in Japan, but the English version of haiku is, usually, a bit stricter than the original Japanese haiku format.

The English language haiku generally requires three lines with 5 syllables on the first line, 7 syllables on the second line and 5 syllables on the final line.

Of course, haiku, classically, deal with seasons or nature and use a 'cutting word' (frequently onomatopoeic) to divide the poem into two parts.

I don't normally do that.

In fact, I rarely write haiku, technically speaking.

I frequently write about human foibles, or deviancy, sometimes with irony and, sometimes, humour, which are the subject matter domain of senryu rather than haiku.

Senryu are structurally similar to haiku except for the subject matter revolving around men (and women) rather than nature or seasons (haiku).

That difference is probably irrelevant to most folk; I figure that most folk either know this stuff already, or can't be bothered to know about, or be interested in, the senryu/haiku differences.

The American Sentence is a poetical form far closer, syntactically, to Japanese haiku, in my opinion--and this is readily debatable. This form requires 17 syllables in one flowing sentence and was created by the American poet Allen Ginsberg.

Now, let my verbiage end and the games begin with lucid, righteous, and salvage... (thanks for the words, Thom).

Sleeping on Milton's black gulf, burning with rage amidst sulphur, dreaming...

Lucifer dreams hot,
lucidly, righteously of
salvaging his rank

Eco-warrior, on the margin (of sea and land), finds funds for her cause.

Lucid beachcomber
salvages timber for cash;
righteous tree-hugger.

When brains go snap, and psyche flees, hope follows and soon is lost or trapped...

Lucidity--gone.
Psycho-chem'cal salvage--failed.
Righteous wail, despair.

Tschuess,

Chris

Ah... and the music for today is...

The combination of Lucifer, folk on the margins, or between the margins, neural snapping, and righteous whales made me think of H.P. Lovecraft and Cthulhu.

And Cthulhu is what inspired both the image at the top and this piece of folk on the margins...Canadian gypsy jazz (jazz manouche) meets French disco... by some Canadian, Quebecois confrères...

Amazon.com
The Lost Fingers' English language website is here...

Tschuess,

Chris

Click to hear 'Home for a Rest' by Spirit of the West

Back home for a short time...

2010-02-10T15:07:00.001+08:00

Dear Gentle Reader,

I now come out of a long, dark period of e-silence.

Sorry about that.

I blame insolvencies, illness, and insurrections.

Those three 'eyes' glared at us simultaneously, which is almost as bad as a basilisk's stare.

But we were not turned to stone--only e-mush that could not post, apparently.

The insolvencies were not personal to us, only their effects were; Hero Pommes, the Wonder Cat, still has a working Swiss credit card.

The illness' are whatever and insurrections are best not dealt with in e-space.

Suffice to say that the Heroine, the Hero, and your humble scribe are, still, all well enough.

As a further excuse for posting laxity, there have also been: house guests, almost continually, from December 1 onwards; multiple trips into China, where your humble scribe cannot access this site; and, a new apartment has been sought in Hong Kong.

Finding an apartment in Hong Kong brings to mind the first verse of W.H. Auden's poem "Say this City has Ten Million Souls"...

Say this city has ten million souls,
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us.

(W.H. Auden--excerpt, first stanza of
Say this City has Ten Million Souls)

However, a new home has been found.

Not to mention the fact that Hong Kong only has seven million souls. Ish.

Fewer, even, if some of the reputed deals that Angel Lucy cut are true...

Cleaning and painting and renovating are all being quoted for the new apartment which is interesting because, for once, someone else will be doing all that work, my not really being up for it at the moment.

Packing and moving preparations are breathing hotly down our necks, wondering when they get to bask in our attention... (soon, soon...)

The new apartment will be bigger and will have easier guest facilities (for both guests and for us).

The trade-off for more space was a sacrifice of our lovely view--no more harbour view or park view or bird's-eye views of birds' eyes (raptors and prey, both).

And the new home is in an older apartment building.

And there will be no pool, gym, sauna, weight room, jacuzzi, putting green, outdoor patio, meeting rooms, function rooms, auxiliary computer room, or library in the new building, unlike in the current building.

*Sigh*

Also, no concierge.

Or cute conciergettes.

*Double sigh*

Nor will there be the Russian oligarch-chic foyer with black glass chandeliers from Murano, Philippe Starck designed floor lamps, stainless steel sculptures, slowly cycling, recessed rainbow lights, and naked men and women (sculptures, sadly) as door handles.

*Triple sigh*

Special note... that beautiful woman (the door handle on the right) fit wonderfully into one's palm.

Think Thumbelina, only sexier.

And the man was, always, when used, under my thumb.

Go figure. And, no, I won't say what part.

But, the rent is less and the space is more.

I suppose I ought to post photos of the old apartment, now that we are preparing to bid it a fond adieu.

Maybe that will be the next post.

After 3WW, of course.

Tschuess,

Chris