Home » ZSpace » Michael Horvitz

This month's poems:

The Saying
-Ernst Stadler

In an old book
I stumbled across a saying.
It was like a stranger
punching me in the face,
it won't stop
gnawing at me.
When I walk around at night,
looking for a beautiful girl,
when a lie or a description
of life or somebody's fake
way of being with people
occurs instead of reality,
when I betray myself with
an easy explanation
as if what's dark is clear,
as if life doesn't have thousands
of locked, burning gates,
when I use words without really
having known their strict openness
and put my hands around things
that don't excite me,
when a dream hides my face with soft hands
and the day avoids me,
cut off from the world,
cut off from who I am deeply,
I freeze where I am
and see hanging in the air in front of me
STOP BEING A GHOST!

(trans./paraphrase by Stephen Berg)
(from The Steel Cricket: Versions 1958-1997 also found in Poet's Choice by Edward Hirsch)

***************************

On Fame –I

by John Keats (1795–1821).

Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy
To those who woo her with too slavish knees,
But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy,
And dotes the more upon a heart at ease.
She is a Gipsey, -- will not speak to those
Who have not learnt to be content without her;
A Jilt, whose ear was never whisper'd close,
Who thinks they scandal her who talk about her;
A very Gipsey is she, Nilus-born,
Sister-in-law to jealous Potiphar,
Ye lovesick Bards! repay her scorn for scorn;
Ye Artists lovelorn! madmen that ye are!
Make your best bow to her and bid adieu,
Then, if she likes it, she will follow you.
1819.

On Fame –II

by John Keats (1795–1821).

You cannot eat your cake and have it too.
-- Proverb.

How fever'd is the man, who cannot look
Upon his mortal days with temperate blood,
Who vexes all the leaves of his life's book,
And robs his fair name of its maidenhood:
It is as if the rose should pluck herself,
Or the ripe plum finger its misty bloom;
As if a Naiad, like a meddling elf,
Should darken her pure grot with muddy gloom,
But the rose leaves herself upon the brier,
For winds to kiss and grateful bees to feed,
And the ripe plum still wears its dim attire,
The undisturbed lake has crystal space:
Why then should man, teasing the world for grace,
Spoil his salvation for a fierce miscreed?

1819.

******************************

...O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae monie a blunder free us,
An' foolish notion:
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,
An' ev'n devotion!

--Robert Burns 1759-1796

http://www.worldburnsclub.com/poems/translations/552.htm

******************************

William Faulkner: Nobel Prize Speech

http://poetoftheheart.com/Great_Books___People.html

The speech Faulkner delivered was not immediately intelligible to his listeners, both because of Faulkner’s southern dialect and because the microphone was too distant from his mouth, but when it was printed in newspapers the following day, it was immediately hailed as one of the most significant addresses ever delivered at a Nobel ceremony.

Michael S. Horvitz / Mike Horvitz / Michael Horvitz / M. Horvitz

Some of my own Poems
North Park, North Park
A lament of the gentrification of a neighborhood
by Michael Horvitz
[050910]

The cracks in the pavement
widen
urging disrepair

Dried leaves and dust
fall
from the trees—
decorating sidewalks

Young black sculptors—
sweet-smiling girls
laugh and leave
hand-worked plasms
of bubblegum
after its sweetness is gone

Women toting babes of
unmatched skin tones
stare off to distant lands,
the babes smile and gurgle

Girls with greenish hair
laugh & walk in smoke
and blue-jean lovely asses

The wretched of the earth
their brothers, gather at corners
to chat or pray

Anyone lives here—
we bare ourselves, no shame
in suits or rags
(or nothing—she was actually naked: Mr. Tom saw her, too)
no one stares or cares

Facades improve and fall
into disrepair
improving, falling
heedless of their benefactors

Miniature banners of
peeling paint
adorn walls in purples, greens
exposing history’s old, gray traces

Fragments of cups, wrappers and scraps
wedge in nooks and corners
coaxed into art-deco by random gusts

Seeds of fibrous weeds or grass
drunk with old and heavy rains
emerge from cracks or concrete seams
…a deep green provident

Cars weary, neglected
seep Rorschach black traces
on ancient pavement

People shuffle back and forth
losing a shoe
a half cigarette
…a bounty for the homeless

The man like a soft, stout chimney
staggers on blackened feet
bellows in an orange beard,
“You never cared!”
His ghosts ashamed or shameless
have since abandoned him

Pigeons, birds of
paradise
drink happily from potholes—
flash their shimmering greens and blues
without regard to their disease

The dry brown man has
no legs and
sharp chin—
ignores my sympathetic gaze—
Enjoying life in smoky haze and magazines

Paras’ newsstand has it all:
plus candies, maps, and covered nudes
and anything for anyone with
craves or urges on their minds—
of intellect or passion…

We all drop in for lottery
and watch the thieves who linger
timing getaways on slow buses…

Progress at 30^th and University
arrives
in a burst of pastel colors
announcing: la Boheme
200 condos
where old shops once stood

*
“Progress…happens”
…You’ll see,
they’ll spruce up Scolari’s old bar
and make it a crime
to cry at bus stops.

They’ll ban the free dog biscuits
at Caffé Calabria
and make loving dogs
illegal in the business zone.

The wheelchair dame—the one
with canyons of wrinkles
--they’ll confiscate her cigarettes (for
her own good)

Gyros ‘n Chicken—Najib’s joint—
will lose their pool table
to keep away dark kids
with dirty backpacks

Then they’ll kick out African
card players
from the Ethiopian coffee house,
make them can their Renoir painting

And they’ll evict the noisy skateboarders
plus the solemn proselytizers standing by

They’ll make Vince take
his cardboard blankets
to the next improvement zone

And make it a crime for
the old accordion player
to wear wool pants
in the summer…

“Progress…happens”

And the cracks in the pavement
widen

And the dried leaves
fall
from the trees—

*
Now on YouTube, with thanks to
Dr. Olga Vienna:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Yy7yfTEmLM&feature=related

//********************//

Body of Verse
by Michael Horvitz

For Carole:

Body of verse

Body of woman

There are words that come to me
    solid and weighty
        as the Live Oak

Everything rises from the earth
    everything dreamed of carries
        sounds and mysteries

Cradling
     In my ears
        a new knowledge

Words--the substance
of verse--my nourishment

You--the substance
of woman--nourish me

Let all the verses
    sing
          to me until I die,

As I equally
    explore the accents
        of your flesh

All the sounds and scents
    tastes and touch
        all that is beautiful

All that I desire...
    In life…In you...
        all that keeps me alive...

Body of verse

    Body
        of my
             woman...

//********************//

The Albatross

Derived from the poem l’Albatros by Charles Baudelaire
by Michael Horvitz
(For Gerald J. Butler)

As if some new delight discovered
Emboldened seafarers while at sea
An albatross from heaven recovered
An ocean’s giant trapped suddenly
Lazily did it chance to follow
Its earthly sea-bound companion craft
Its cries now ringing sadly hollow
As men with their implements coax it aft

Never quite earthbound this noble creature
Mighty prince of our firmament
Afflicted with this unbefitting feature
Now hobbles pride-shorn in mournful lament
White sails carried high on bright daylight blue
With unfettered grandeur so well possessed
Great wings; now they drag, so painful to view
Oar-like, pathetic, as if by curse regressed

Voyager of sky's domain, one moment he, a king,
Then, lesser men by force inflame the rowdy mob
Display him as weak and a cumbersome poor thing
Ignoring his beauty, belittling his beak with an old pipe cob
Laughing and belching in cowards’ raucous glee
Do they harass and mimic his weakened state
As if by capturing, controlling he of glory
Transfers to fools those qualities which make him great

Magnificent creature, ruler of untamed sky
His cousin here on earth, the poet does he emulate
Enchanted, elated by tempests of soul, air and eye
The common hunter of sport still can’t of him emasculate
And even when trapped and trammeled by ordinary men
Who cannot distinguish true greatness from success by gun or bow
Still, though your wings of splendor be thus weighed upon then,
The rest of us may hope to rise to that genius you did bestow.

//********************//

My Love Returned
--Michael Horvitz
V2-052309-122011

I.
Beauteously I held my love,
held her warm and bodily,
and her voice like music’s flow
stirred my life, stirring me

In this blissful state the world
glows and glows more pleasantly
so, that poor and common things
reveal what others mightn’t see

Darkling clouds that shield night’s stars
won't remove, but add a glow
freeways with their thunderous roar
mimic nature’s ocean’s flow.

Injuries and illness making
all the more affection show
petty quarrels of all sorts
cannot demean the love I know

II.

But, came time of falt’ring need
in my brain did plant a seed
and those needs I felt un-met
and that seed sewn with regret,

turned my life toward my own pain
so my warmth could not regain,
fostered anger in my heart
set my love & me apart

-*-*-*

Then the petty quarrels grew
and demeaned the love I knew
in my suffering felt no peace
while affection did decrease

Then the blackened clouds of night
felt as misery, felt as blight
then the freeway’s thunderous roar
strained my nerves ‘til fibers tore

In this wretched state the world
burns through hell’s landscape unfurled
so that every common thing
feels of threat, feels of sting

Soon my love I couldn’t hold
soon my touch to her grew cold
then her voice its beauty hid
and our loving both forbid

-*-*-*

Stay! My heart: cold as a stone!
Shrunk in misery, alone;
Un-rememb’ring what I’d known.

-*-*-*

Then, from her did come a word--
word that pierced my armor shielded
with reluctance, then I heard
her own true voice, then I yielded

So, my heart’s cold ice—it thawed
so my mind relaxed its strain
and I saw my thinking flawed
knowing I could not sustain

Then I saw her fresh & new
saw her beauty, saw her pained
and my love for her re-grew
and our warmth it’s strength regained

With our closeness there, again,
so our bodies did connect
our love consummated, then,
in those ways one might expect

*/*/*/

Though the blissful state was real,
Though the anger also true,
Though the real life’s not ideal
Still she’s mine, & I’m hers, too!

//********************//

Those Little Things
By Michael Horvitz
To Carole
[To be read with mock contentiousness and affection]

You say, “It’s those ‘little’ things,”
that burden you:
spots on the counter
    clothes draped on the chair
      too many things scattered about

It vexes you,
weighs on your mind,
    this accumulation of annoyances

How certain you are of misery’s potential
As if there were other options

The universe is filled with bothersome ‘little’ things,
Like bits of cosmic radiation
relentlessly pelting the earth
Invisible flecks of smoke & grit
slowly eroding our lungs
Traffic jams with ten-thousand watts
of custom car stereos hammering our nerves
And don’t forget the spiders:
those that don’t bite leave cob-webs
    collecting the dust you can’t bear

Where would you resettle
to avoid those ‘little’ things?
Who would you shack down with
in that elusive Garden of Eden?

So let’s argue it out—
with scowls & accusations
as we paint our futures
with the joys of freedom—
finally single again--
release from those wearying burdens!

But don’t you pull back now—
thinking of the loneliness
    of parting
Short-changed in the trade
of freedom for a love-connection.

Well
I see I’m convincing you
but you resist—defending your
untenable position.

Alright then—let’s chuck it all!
Grant each other that ticket
to freedom!
Cut the bind! Release the ties!
Ah-hah! Had enough, have you?

I’ll stick to my position
I’ll never give in—not an inch!

What?!...You’re smiling, are you?
You don’t believe me?
I’m my own man! Just you watch!

Say…come here: You!
Look at you standing there
as if it’s you who’s right!
C’m’ere—the only thing right
about you is that body of yours—
That’s pretty sweet!
And maybe your smile—you’re
Pretty good there,
And I suppose you’ve got
A bit of a song in your voice…
when you’re not on my ass.
And I do like your touch—love it, really.
Could be I happen to notice you have that
special grace in your poise—something
I haven’t seen in others, actually

Here, let me hold you,
How soft your sweet-smelling skin
Cuddle-in closer—there…there

So what was I saying?
Oh yeah—
Don’t you worry your
pretty little head about all this--
Just stay close to me
Anyway
I’m getting better at cleaning the counters
and putting my clothes away
Really—trust me—I’d be crazy
To leave you!

//********************//
[more poems forthcoming]

See also: Love and Poetry:
http://PoetOfTheHeart.com/

~~~Elephant by Anna Horvitz~~~

**ANNOUNCEMENTS**
- Lafer: The New Unemployment 'Reform'
- All **ANNOUNCEMENTS**
On Capitalism - A Critique
- Penny: Pretty Irrelevant
- All On Capitalism - A Critique
Bio -Michael Horvitz
Michael Horvitz- Bio & Background

Born in 1953 during a blizzard in the famous [Herman Melville] whaling port of New Bedford, Mass.

Family moved to San Diego later that year, with little or no whaling experience

Spent much of my childhood reading comic books, playing ball with my brothers and friends, and going down into the canyons to catch snakes and lizards, the latter a status symbol among a very esoteric group of boys.

Wanted to be a doctor, quite willingly and in accordance with my Grandma’s wishes.

Took up piano at age 10. Mostly played popular pieces from sheet music of the ‘40s which my mother had collected. She would sing along while I played, which pleased me. Later, I began to play classical pieces, especially enjoying Debussy, Chopin, Beethoven and Mozart.

Changed my interest to the sciences [especially astronomy] after great classroom experiences with my 8^th-grade science teacher [Mr. Jack Beverly].

Changed my interests to biology after great and interesting classroom experiences with my 11^th-& 12^th- grade science teacher [Mr. George Jones].

Studied Zoology at SDSU under a very fine and influential professor [Dr. Jason Lillegraven].

Worked in my father’s income tax office along with two of my brothers while going through college. Learned invaluable things at work and from my father about people’s natures, especially in relation to their personal economics.

I had perhaps the greatest experiences of my young life in college, particularly upon meeting a literature professor [Gerald “Joe” Butler] whom I became close with for many years. Although I was a Zoology major, I attended many of his classes, especially in British Literature, and also such classes as “Aesthetics of the Novel,” etc. Butler’s brilliance of vision and understanding, along with his friendship and mentoring, created an intellectual environment that I’d never experienced before or since. Not only did he bring the great novels to life, but helped me and other students understand what was in those great works that we could connect-up with our own lives in meaningful, enlightening and sometimes even troubling ways. I didn’t lose my interest in the sciences, rather I eagerly and happily included this new interest in my life. It was exciting to discover that the humanities could be of invaluable help in understanding the world in a manner that could parallel or perhaps even surpass what the sciences could do. I always looked forward to attending his classes in which the discussions would “demonstrate where and how the novels lead to illumination of aspects of human experience not fully understood before.” [As he has described it.]

Graduated in 1976, with honors and distinction, BSc. Zoology, SDSU.

Continued working in the tax office. Passed Enrolled Agent exam in 1987. [Have had some clients coming for over 35 years now.] [ http://www.linkedin.com/pub/michael-horvitz/15/980/891 ]

Daughter Anna born 1980, son David born 1988. David & Anna work with me off and on in the tax office, which makes me very happy. Have three fine brothers and many wonderful nieces and nephews.

Started writing poetry and short stories in the ‘80s, but not seriously until the past decade or so. Some of my work appears in San DiegoPoetry Annual 2009-10, 2010-11 & 2011-12. (And, because of Seretta Martin and Eileen Wingard I had the honor to be a featured poet at Barnes & Noble and the JCC in San Diego.) http://sandiegopoetryannual.com/2011-12-poetspoems-list/ - http://www.sdjewishworld.com/2011/01/31/poets-share-at-lawrence-family-jcc-and-on-our-website/ - Love and Poetry: http://PoetOfTheHeart.com/

Met the love of my life, Carole Marks [Carole Alhadeff ], of Zimbabwe [Southern Rhodesia], in the spring of 2005. I consider this the most fortuitous and wonderful thing that has happened to me. Prior to this, I wasn’t able to fully understand how one could have great happiness in a love relationship. Along with the happiness and fulfillment she has brought to my life has come a greater awareness of my own self, of others, and of many aspects of the relationships between individuals. Now, the important things which I valued in my life I value all the more, and those things which I ought to have valued more have since gained greater value to me. She has been my muse, my inspiration, and an invaluable critic, and I feel that my writing has changed for the better since I have been with her. I have been inspired to write many love poems for her, and expect to do so for the rest of my life...assuming I live that long.

***

Poetry, for me, comes out of meaningful relationships and experiences with people and things; things of both the human-made world and the Natural world: the sky, canyons, trees, vegetable gardens, old chairs, wild creatures of which one may catch a lucky glimpse, or domesticated creatures with which one can form a loving connection. But most of all, it’s my connections with the people I care about that bring meaning to my life and work, and that is why I have talked about them in this brief piece.

***
MICHAEL HORVITZ <mikehorvitz@yahoo.com>

Lunar Eclipse

Sometimes in the bright of the light we can't fully see a thing until some part of it is obscured,
revealing what's otherwise hidden from us, making the unseen seen.

***

Facing the firing squad unflinchingly...

...they did not fire on me, a man of no fame--it was not worth the bullets. [Circa 2004]

***

"I hate the idea of causes, and if I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country."--E.M. Forster

“A humanist has four leading characteristics - curiosity, a free mind, belief in good taste, and belief in the human race.” -- E.M. Forster
More of my poems
For Jihmye
In memory of San Diego poet Jihmye Collins, From his friend Michael Horvitz--Read at a memorial gathering at Caffe Calabria in North Park--April 10, 2011

Perhaps you never knew—
I looked: for you
time by time
in this very place—here
in life’s living magic

I sought your warmth
its magnitude--
and when you looked up
poems & paints
colored your eyes.
Then, came your voice
making everything buoyant

You were voice
body
face & form
weighed with kindness
intelligence
and it flowed freely
like the running streams

You bathed our eyes & ears
thoughtfully--
with generosity
your spirit flew--
and petals of color
enchanted us

The flower of the world
the flower of you
Jihmye
still flows on us

And your warm solidity
Comes & goes with
us all
here
forever.

http://sandiegopoetryannual.com/2011-12-poetspoems-list/

**//////////////////**

Jihmye Collins was born June 17, 1939, in Greenville, Ga. Jihmye died March 15, 2011 at age 71.

Nice YouTube of Jihmye:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qac0YuArJBA

//********************//

Love isn’t Beauty
For Carole

Love isn’t beauty, nor beauty love
no more than glowing stars above
are there to forewarn or guide us through
our Holy nights, where we seek what
      we believe is true

Yet beauty & love can’t be untangled
so easily while our thoughts be strangled
in such a way that we come not-to-think
of what we desire, if impossible,
      so we’re led to drink

                                       away
our misfortune whose origin does stand
in that part of our psyche—a desert land
without reprieve of solitude forced to be
what until now in this thought one could
      but scarcely see

Here, here standing alone and yet
among the signs of love & beauty I can’t forget
yearning to bring them into one: my pleasure
to be fulfilled by dream or action with all that
      I may treasure

Closer, closer do I come to find
what I’ve hidden in my thoughts—my mind
full with fantasy about to break through
and discover what may be my true
    desire, with you

And you with the beauty I’d always sought
yet in my mind a battle fought
with the demons of my own making
which overshadowed love, prevented
      from partaking

                                in the consummation
of my dream of life
The strained strands of my thoughts
    cut through with the knife
of a new perception freeing me at last
so that what I suffered with so, in the past
comes undone – then united
with all of that in me so excited
to find in you the beauty & love
so that now I connect it all with the
    glorious stars above

//********************//

What lost us?
Jan. 23, 2011--v5.1
To Carole

What lost us?—yet
the gold leaves fall
painting the earth with
their demise
standing barely the
trees pull back
full-exposed in
their stark nude frame.

What lost us?—yet
the tides still flow
ebbing endless on
a mirrored sand
feeling the heave that
pushes, pulls
washed away in
the loud rough roar.

What lost us?—do
you hear that call?
crying to us in
an emptied sound
casting a voice that
we once heard
held us together in
a warm full light.

What lost us?—when
I held you close,
flooding tides that
kissed our skin
filling the spaces
we might fill
promised a vision in
a love filled full.

What lost us?—yet
are we not found?
dancing quiet through
our own dark eyes
grasping an essence that
formed us whole
turning together
with a touch close held.

Turning the vessel of
our own hot love
Bringing communion to
the willing flesh
Speak of the promise that
drenched our eyes
Return to the love that
knew us best.

//********************//

[more poems forthcoming]

On Men & Women:

One mustn't forget: a man is a biological creature, and his physical desires are endowed by Nature. But how he acts upon those desires? That is an expression of his character.

Women are, in the deepness of their natures, quite inscrutable: not only to men, but to other women as well, even to themselves. They are tethered to the turnings of the Universe. Who among men could possibly exchange places with them? But to scorn or renounce them for what they are?...would be to renounce life itself. --Zhivrotsky

Love and Poetry:
http://PoetOfTheHeart.com/

Michael S. Horvitz / Mike Horvitz / Michael Horvitz

Most Recent Content
Michael Horvitz's Bio Info

Awaiting authorization
...discovery

Carole & me

Carole & me

Carole & me--2012

Carole

Carole & Me
***

Other voices:

“This is what I believe: That I am I. That my soul is a dark forest. That my known self will never be more than a little clearing in the forest. That gods, strange gods, come forth from the forest into the clearing of my known self, and then go back. That I must have the courage to let them come and go. That I will never let mankind put anything over me, but that I will try always to recognize and submit to the gods in me and the gods in other men and women. There is my creed.”   -- D.H. Lawrence

DH Lawrence photo:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D._H._Lawrence



*
"If a thing is to speak to you, you must for a certain time regard it as the only thing that exists, the unique phenomenon that your diligent and exclusive love has placed at the center of the universe, something the angels serve that very day upon that matchless spot." --Rainer Maria Rilke

"Let life happen to you. Believe me: life is in the right, always." --Rilke

Rainer Maria Rilke -photo
[ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rainer_Maria_Rilke ]

*
“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we're reading doesn't wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.”
Franz Kafka

"Man cannot live without a permanent trust in something indestructible in himself, and at the same time that indestructible something as well as his trust in it may remain permanently concealed from him.'' --Kafka

"Every revolution evaporates and leaves only the slime of a new bureaucracy" -Kafka

Franz Kafka: Photo

*

I bid you to a one-man revolution—
The only revolution that is coming.
      --Robert Frost
*
The finest short stories are those that raise, in short, one particular man or woman, from that Gehenna, the newspaper, where at last all men are equal, to the distinction of being an individual. To be responsive not to the ordinances of the herd (Russia-like) but to the extraordinary responsibility of being a person. … As we write for the magazines today so they [the Russians} write, officially for the Politbureau. But the real writing, the real short story will be written privately, in secret, despairingly — for the individual. For it will be the individual. –William Carlos Williams

*
Parasitic Anarchism (etc.)
This book has not received the recognition it deserves, yet is one of the most important great works of our modern age:

Book Review

The Vanishing Individual:
A Voice From the Dustheap of History or How To Be Happy Without Being Hopeful

by Wayne Burns

http://library.nothingness.org/articles/SA/en/display/263
An excerpt from the review:

Wayne Burns writes as a man who, because of his personal makeup, and the time and places and circumstances in which he grew up, found himself, some thirty years ago, totally at war with the System and therefore with his culture -- over his and others' right, not just to be individuals, but to be able to live and express themselves as individuals necessarily at odds with the System. And since he believes that he has over the years found a viable way to achieve and maintain this individuality, which he defines as parasitic anarchism, he wants others to know about it too -- and perhaps, if they choose, share some version of it.

To clarify where he is coming from, and trying to go, Burns in his opening pages provides a summary statement of his intellectual premises:
1) That it is no longer possible (if it ever was) to overthrow or modify or significantly ameliorate the system of corporate capitalism that now controls every aspect of our world; 2) that the American state (along with every other democracy in the Western world) exists only to serve the world-wide capitalist system; 3) that this system, via the media and "manufactured consent," not only controls the minds of good citizens but the choices open to their controlled minds -- thereby turning democracy into a farce; 4) that those of us who can, in Kundera's phrase, recognize this "world for the trap it has become" have no choice but to find ways around or through the trap -- ways that will, in relation to the system, necessarily result in our being, in some measure, parasites on the body social and the body politic; 5) that those who find these ways and share their findings with others will, in effect, be functioning as parasitic anarchists, however they choose to identify themselves.

...read more...

http://library.nothingness.org/articles/SA/en/display/263
***
Availability--
This book is out of print, and difficult to get online at times. I have copies available, as I am the so-called "Southwest Distributor" of some of Wayne Burns' books. I have them available for a reasonable price for interested readers. Just let me know. --Mike Horvitz <MikeHorvitz@yahoo.com>
***

Other links to info and writings by Wayne Burns:

~~~~~
A Review of Wayne Burns, Resisting our Culture of Conformity:
http://www.rainreview.net/rain-050102.html
The Outsider’s Outsider: A Review of Wayne Burns, Resisting our Culture of Conformity—In the Hills of Southern Ohio and in the Groves of Academe with an Introduction by Ellen Tallman (Alpine: Blue Daylight Books, 2006)
By Jerry Zaslove

Excerpt:

"...The story not only shows the way American culture and its institutions have become more brutally philistine than even de Tocqueville could predict, but how the academic walls have tumbled down around us without our knowing it..."

...[Quoting Burns]...“Liberal-democratic capitalism... [is] one of the biggest con-jobs in the history of the world".

Availability:
http://www.amazon.com/Resisting-Culture-Conformity-Wayne-Burns/dp/0971884927

~~~~~
A Panzaic Theory of the Novel
Availability:
http://www.amazon.com/Panzaic-Theory-Novel-Wayne-Burns/dp/0615297021
Author: Wayne Burns
A Panzaic Theory of the Novel includes a lengthy Introduction, along with three Critical Afterwords in which sympathetic scholar critics underscore salient features of Panzaic theory including how it provides ways for readers of serious novels to gain a new and deeper sense of who they are and what they are up against in our present-day world.

~~~~~
Enfin Céline Vint -A Contextualist Reading of Journey to the End of the Night and Death on the Installment Plan
http://www.peterlang.com/index.cfm?event=cmp.ccc.seitenstruktur.detailseiten&seitentyp=produkt&pk=42016&cid=5
Book synopsis:

A close reading of Journey To The End of The Night and Death On The Installment Plan which shows that Céline's genius carries him all the way to Santayana's "absolute grotesque reality."

Contents:

Contents: This book provides the only close reading of Journey To The End Of The Night and Death On The Installment Plan in English. It is, furthermore, the only book on Céline that sides with his novels completely.

Reviews:

«Céline wrote the greatest novels of our century and Wayne Burns has written the only book that really understands them and their greatness.» (Gerald J.Butler, San Diego State University)
«Enfin Céline Vint is not only comprehensive, but finally says what English commentary has failed to say - either for lack of understanding or lack of courage.» (William K. Buckley, Indiana University Northwest)
«L'essai de Wayne Burns est extrêmement sympathique et mériterait d'être traduit.» (Jacques d'Arribehaude, Le Bulletin Célinien)

Availability:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/enfin-celine-vint-wayne-burns/1001391787
http://www.amazon.ca/Enfin-Celine-Vint-Contextualist-Installment/dp/0820406783
******************************************************************

Other fine books that may interest you:

By Gerald J. Butler:

--This is carbon : a defense of D.H. Lawrence's The Rainbow against his admirers
"Carbon": what Lawrence himself called the basic stuff of the life of his characters in The Rainbow. It is this "carbon" that Lawrence celebrates. But Lawrence's academic admirers have done their best to deny its presence in his novel, and the denial goes on today more than ever. This book, partly an attack on the academic appreciation of Lawrence, seeks to restore to one of the greatest novels of the century its lost power.--- from book's back cover

[Gerald Butler / Joe Butler, author]

Availability:
http://www.amazon.com/This-Carbon-Defense-Lawrences-Admirers/dp/0915781026

I have this book available for a reasonable price for interested readers if you can't get it online. Just let me know. --Mike Horvitz <MikeHorvitz@yahoo.com>

http://www.worldcat.org/search?q=au%3AButler%2C+Gerald+J.%2C&qt=hot_author

More by Gerald J. Butler:
--Love and Reading : An Essay in Applied Psychoanalysis
--Sexual Experience in D.H. Lawrence's The Rainbow
--Henry Fielding and Lawrence's Old Adam : A Reading of Restoration and Eighteenth-century British Literature

--Fielding's Unruly Novels
***********

By Stephanie Johnson:
--The Downtrodden Worker's Workplace Survival Guide

For those who can’t—or don’t want to fit in…
Surviving in today’s workplace means fitting in to a corporate ideal. Not everyone wants to climb the corporate ladder, but most companies have no time or room for those who don’t want to fit the mold. There are ways for the unwilling to meet—or at least seem to meet—those corporate ideals while still remaining true to their own individual ethics. Stephanie Johnson has the answers, learned through years of experience in her own varied careers. After working toward a PhD and acting as a university teaching assistant, she worked on a commercial fishing boat before turning to computers and teaching computer programming. Now an independent computer consultant, she shares her coping skills and provides concrete answers not found anywhere else. –from book's back cover

Availability:
http://www.amazon.com/Downtrodden-Workers-Workplace-Survival-Guide/dp/1551972336

I have this book available for a reasonable price for interested readers if you can't get it online. Just let me know. --Mike Horvitz <MikeHorvitz@yahoo.com>

* * *

FREUD AND MAN'S SOUL
Bruno Bettelheim
VINTAGE BOOKS A DIVISION OF RANDOM HOUSE
NEW YORK
First Vintage Books Edition, January 1984
Review [by Michael Horvitz]
http://poetoftheheart.com/Great_Books___People.html

also here:

http://www.zcommunications.org/freud-and-mans-soul-by-michael-horvitz

* * *
Until Further notice

Love and Poetry: http://PoetOfTheHeart.com/

“When I am with you, we stay up all night.
When you're not here, I can't go to sleep.
Praise God for those two insomnias!
And the difference between them.”
-- Rumi

***
Recent Friends Messages
"The future ain't what it used to be". - Yogi Berra
My ZSpace Friends
All Horvitz's Friends
...wish to remain anonymous.
Recent Books
- Burns: The Vanishing Individual:
- All Recent Books

On Fame –I

On Fame –II

William Faulkner: Nobel Prize Speech

Michael Horvitz Blog Posts

Michael Horvitz ZNet Articles

Michael Horvitz ZMag Articles

Michael Horvitz ZCommentaries

Michael Horvitz ZVideos

Michael Horvitz ZAudios

Michael Horvitz ZGraphics

Michael Horvitz Quotes

Michael Horvitz Books

Michael Horvitz Films

Michael Horvitz Poems

Michael Horvitz Lyrics

Books

Films

ZComm Pages

Horvitz's Work

Michael Horvitz Comments/Forums

Some of my own Poems

Body of Verse

The Albatross

Derived from the poem l’Albatros by Charles Baudelaire

**ANNOUNCEMENTS**

Jewish Poets-Jewish Voices

On Capitalism - A Critique

Bio -Michael Horvitz

More of my poems

Most Recent Content

Michael Horvitz's Bio Info

...discovery

Parasitic Anarchism (etc.)

Book Review

The Vanishing Individual: A Voice From the Dustheap of History or How To Be Happy Without Being Hopeful

by Wayne Burns

~~~~~ Enfin Céline Vint -A Contextualist Reading of Journey to the End of the Night and Death on the Installment Plan

Book synopsis:

Contents:

Reviews:

--This is carbon : a defense of D.H. Lawrence's The Rainbow against his admirers

--Love and Reading : An Essay in Applied Psychoanalysis

--Henry Fielding and Lawrence's Old Adam : A Reading of Restoration and Eighteenth-century British Literature

--Fielding's Unruly Novels

By Stephanie Johnson:

Until Further notice

Recent Friends Messages

My ZSpace Friends

Recent Books

ANNOUNCEMENTS

The Vanishing Individual:
A Voice From the Dustheap of History or How To Be Happy Without Being Hopeful

~~~~~
Enfin Céline Vint -A Contextualist Reading of Journey to the End of the Night and Death on the Installment Plan