Mme. Sosostrus ~Divinely Pr{o}postrous

Have you met the divine Mme. Sosostrus yet? She’s preposterous, and yet…..such fun. She’s quite the character, and seems unable to pronounce, let alone spell, her own name. Still, she has all this weird knowledge, she claims, from these Kookistani people that nobody else seems to have heard of. She’s pretty vague about their whereabouts, but Mme. S lives half way up a local mountain, with a troop of Capuchin monkeys for company, and only ventures abroad down the town, on Alice the bike, when out of Uisce Beatha, apparently, or when there’s a chance of some silver crossing her palm. Oh, there’s a piano half way up there, too, which, by her own account, they gather ’round in the evenings, to knock out a tune or two on.

We’ve heard her singing, unfortunately, at a recent seance we had. As a writer, I seek out these Kooks, to help me cook up new books, and Mme. S was quite the hoot, as she literally threw herself into finding the ghost myself and Mr. Poxley-Warner dreamed up. With all this free entertainment, and barely containable mirth, we almost forgot teeny Foxley Poxley’s wailing for the evening. The only dark spot on the ectoplasmic spectacles was the fact that that Donna Emerald beat me to making art out of the pig’s ear that Sosostrus made of the performance, by publishing a play of her own. The pigeon post must have been intercepted, or some malicious spirit put the evening’s entertainment gossip about via secret twitching curtain coded signals, or teatime tattling, down the local cafe. Still, there’s a book and several dramatic paintings in it still, I suspect. Plenty of time for clearing up the mouse remains from the cooker, too. One can’t rush art, and she’s such an inspiration.

This will be available as a podcast soon.

Genius

Just in case you’re starting to get into that sloppy, Hallmark Christmas spirit, this should bring you to your senses. Charles Bukowski’s ‘The Genius of The Crowd’ is a bleak and brilliant insight into the darker sides of  human nature.

there is enough treachery, hatred, violence, absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art

He was also one of the finest stage performers of his own work out there, and the gravelly rendition of the same piece included below is superbly delivered. His work is very accessible, so give it a listen even if you don’t usually like poetry, and if you’ve been good all year Santa might deliver another poetry gift later. Beats a tangerine in a sock, hands down.

Is his view a little warped, and the view presented by ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ closer to the message we should be clutching close to our warmed hearts at Xmas? I think  Bukowski may be closer to the truth, and the Depressive Realist  Hypothesis seems to have lots of support, even if ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is more in line with the way retailers would like us to see the world at Christmas time, so they can cash in on our happiness. Genius.