Remembering Schottland: Birds and Bombs and Other Trivia

May there always be secondhand bookstores. In a world that tends to value only what is digital, the secondhand bookstore may be the last bastion of the rare, the arcane and the esoteric, the book lover's equivalent of a deep-sea treasure chest, laden with books no longer in print and obscure works no longer read by authors who have long since slipped out of fashion and into oblivion.

The often chaotic and dusty shelves still beckon the seekers of intellectual flotsam and jetsam, who know that among these cast-offs can often be found lost gems and the glorious trace of human thought.

And so it was, how I chanced upon a worn and water-stained book of poetry by a minor American poet, Leo E. Schottland. The shabby, slim volume with its faded gold lettering was leaning against T.S. Eliot. I am not sure why I reached for it. Something in its forlorn appearance, I suppose, as the title was barely legible: Of Birds and Bombs and Other Trivia.

But I was immediately intrigued. Later, what I read on those yellowing pages moved me deeply. A hitherto unknown soul was suddenly speaking to me as quiet friend and kindred spirit. The poetry is not William Carlos William. Not P.K. Page. Not Robin Blaser. Although, there are moments when I am vaguely reminded of our Raymond Souster. Clearly, Schottland was influenced by Walt Whitman.

But this man, Leo E. Schottland, who lived and learned and loved, who travelled the continent and eventually settled down in Long Island, New York, is worthy of mention because his poetry reveals a person who was profoundly sensitive to the beauty and the fragility of the natural world. In many of his poems he rails against the indifference and the greed of an increasingly material society that was hell-bent on progress at any cost.

And he was writing all this in the 40s, 50s and 60s no less!

Prejudice and hate he had no time for, and he sought the ideal of a better world. For Schottland, that meant a world in which all living things were treated with respect. While Schottland clearly had a God, it was a god who dwelt in the woods, which he called his "cathedral" in one poem, such is the reverence he held for nature. In yet another poem, he reveals a disgust for the hypocrisy one often finds in organized religions. He held compassion aloft, and not the sole domain of the Christian mindset either, as one of man's most admirable attributes.

One poem relates an incident that he had witnessed, in which a young boy helped to save a small rabbit from his dog. Tenderly, he tells us that the boy "gently" elbowed the dog aside and then pushed the stuck rabbit through the fence "all the while talking to the dog." Once the freed rabbit "bounded away," the boy and the dog look at one another, expressing in their wordless exchange what the poet identifies as compassion: "And the dog licked his hand, and seemed to understand."

True, some of his language and terminology are dated, but his passion and sincerity shine across the decades. His anger at humankind's disregard for the planet is evident in many poems, such as "Betrayal":

Dying are our rivers and forests
And our sanctuaries too—
Murdered by man and his greed,
His lust and his selfishness…

Or in "Before the Bulldozers Came" he writes:

Man builds in the name of progress,
Destroying in his righteous conceit
That which is beautiful
And just as essential
As his new roads and glistening towers.

In a long and moving elegy, "An Apology to Walt Whitman" he writes these chopped lines, as if he were gasping himself in the oxygen-depleted air:

I went into the cities
And beheld a gray haze
Drifting along over the traffic
And it was gaseous
And sooty
And the air was laden
With sulphur dioxide
And swollen particles
Of lung-killing death!


At the end of the poem, he writes:

And I held a quiet converse
With Walt Whitman,
Wherever he is,
And I apologized
For what we are doing
To twentieth-century America.

If Whitman were alive today and bearing witness to the disappearance of wild spaces and most especially now to the ongoing ecological disaster in the Gulf of Mexico, what would he write? Surely he would be appalled, angry, vocal and strident in his criticism.

What is revealed in Schottland's poems, over and over, is his anxious love for the small and beautiful things of this world—a tree, a plant, and in one poem, a turtle. It is this poem that most reveals the soul of this man and depth of his inherent gentleness. It also seems to encapsulate all that he felt about the destruction of the planet.

Here then is "A Hollowing Shell Where Turtle Dwelt":

We found it lying on its back,
A little tank—or what was left,
And, just like armored tanks in war
O'erturned, are too of strength bereft.

We found it lying there,
A hollowing shell where turtle dwelt,
And flies and ants were crawling 'round
And in and out—of the huge welt.

There on the great fen it lay,
What hand but human wrought the deed?
As, flipping on its back and propping up,
Stole its chance for life—there was no need.

No need to steal from the clean earth
A harmless dweller of the soil;
'Twas death by torture—without doubt,
But did the human heart recoil?

Nay, thought was never given to cruelty,
What could a hard-shell turtle know of pain?
God—help the heart to look within itself
And know the touch of love and be redeemed again.


I can't help but wonder how many other people out there might still remember Schottland's poetry. I hope there are many. If not, we must keep his relatively small output of work alive somehow. Which is why I share it here, and for no other reason.

As his friend Alonzo Gibbs wrote in the introduction to the collection, for Schottland, poetry was not simply a way of life but a "dedicated concern for the earth and all who dwell therein." Gibbs adds, "May his tribe increase!"

Hear! Hear!

The Spin Cycle: Greenwashing Must Stop

"In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act." George Orwell

Back around 2000, BP jumped on the green bandwagon by rebranding itself as an eco-friendly oil company. Spending roughly 200 million dollars, BP bought themselves a new tag line, a sunny new logo and began to advertise their new green appearance to the public.

Flash forward to one of the worst "man-made" ecological disasters endangering the Gulf states and BP has rolled out yet another ad campaign, this time to apologize for the damages caused by the explosion of the Deepwater Horizon rig. The expensive but lame apology came four weeks after the actual explosion, as the awful "visual" impact to the Gulf's wildlife and wetlands started to really hit the media in a big way. BP was suddenly no longer awash in feel-good green but drenched in its own stinking crude.

BP didn't invent greenwashing, of course, Nor did Haliburton, Transocean, or any of the oil companies for that matter. No, Big Oil is just one of the many sectors that realized early on it made shrewd business sense to be perceived as forward-thinking and environment-friendly. And let's be clear, there is a difference between marketing a green product and the practice of greenwashing. If a company is making or selling a product that truly does have some ultimate benefit to the environment, either through the product's intrinsic characteristics or its ability to be recycled, then fine. Greenwashing, on the other hand, is essentially a sly way for a company to express environmentalist concerns through their products, services or activities but whose real intentions are to erect a positive public image and ultimately secure good PR and more sales.

A little harmless advertising? No, greenwashing is not only disingenuous, it's unethical. It is a cynical practice that plays on the current sympathies (and fears) of the public. Moreover, it insults and devalues the genuine efforts of truly green companies and green entrepreneurs that are developing sustainable products, services and organizations. Soon, everyone will smirk or grimace when they hear the word "green." It's already happening.

A few years ago, I was excited by certain developments. Generally, people seemed to be joining the green revolution in a big way, with meaningful commitments to reducing and recycling and being vocal about pollution. Companies were starting to change the tone of their advertising. In business, we started to speak about social responsibility and giving back. All good things. I liked that business was talking about the environment and that "we" environmentalists, naturalists, conservationists, wildlife and animal lovers weren't perceived as being on the lunatic fringe anymore. You could say you wanted to save the boreal forest and not be dismissed as some fuzzy-thinking New Age freak.

Hallelujah.

But then, an ominous trend began to loom on the copywriting horizon. I began to feel very uneasy about the marketing and advertising I was hearing, reading and seeing. Certain products and companies were talking about being "green" that really, in all honesty, couldn't possibly be green no matter how much spin they could apply. How could they promote themselves as green? I found myself pondering this question more and more. If being green is a moral, ethical choice (protecting the earth for the greater good of all), then some companies were clearly walking a very fine ethical line by telling their little green fibs.

Well, not all the fibs were little. Some of them have proven to be real whoppers!

The biggest whopper yet has been the BP rebranding. Tragically, this point has been driven home in a dramatic, horrific way. I am not debating the merits of offshore drilling here. I recognize that civilizations need energy to sustain themselves and survive. The kind of energy we could be using instead must be a topic for another post. This post is about misleading the public with disingenuous "greenspeak."

The clock has struck and time is up: we as a society can no longer tacitly permit the culture of lying that dulls our brains, calcifies our cynicism and masks ugly truths and nasty realities with fine and pretty words. Greenwashing can do real harm. I think the environmental disaster in the Gulf is proof enough of that. It's just not good enough anymore for a company to say it is green. It ought to be able to back up those words with solid facts or authentic, sincere initiatives that support its claims. What is surfacing through all that BP marketing muck is a company that had anything but the integrity of the environment or the health and safety of its workers in mind—no substantially well-thought-out disaster plan and little disregard for anything but the profit margin.

If any good can possibly come out of this horrible and very preventable tragedy, maybe it is that people will be utterly and absolutely, for once and for all, revolted by corporate greenwashing. Going forward, consumers must be more analytical and skeptical, make informed and wiser choices, and hold businesses accountable for their claims.

True, advertising organizations around the world have reacted to protect consumers. For example, in Canada, the Competition Bureau along with the Canadian Standards Association discourage companies from making vague claims about their products' environmental impact, and any claims they do make must be backed up by readily available data.

Independent organizations also stepped in, issuing guidelines and carrying out their own studies. You can read Futerra's Greenwash Guide online and follow the latest (2009) TerraChoice Environmental Marketing Inc. study on what they have dubbed The Seven Sins of Greenwashing: the Sin of the Hidden Trade-Off, the Sin of No Proof, the Sin of Vagueness, the Sin of Irrelevance, the Sin of Fibbing, the Sin of Lesser of Two Evils and the Sin of Worshiping False Labels.

Maybe we need tougher laws and stricter penalties for these violations? But we cannot just leave it to the advertising councils and the corporate watchdogs. The consumer can play a huge role in keeping a company honest. As the people at www.trendwatching.com point out, thanks to the exploding social media scene, transparency will matter. The Internet and social media are handing the megaphone over to the public, so opinions can be voiced and products boycotted, and it can be done with immediacy and in great numbers. Refusing to buy a company's product or airing their shameful record can send shares plummeting. Just take a look at the latest business reports on BP stock.

As for corporate communications writers, spin is always going to be a part of the job. So is there a place for truth in marketing and advertising? Call me naïve but I think so, and I think it can be really good writing and design, too. Just as there are wonderful green entrepreneurs with great ideas, there are communications specialists that can help to spread the news. And it can be done with creativity, fun, joy...and truth. I think that people will applaud your efforts for trying to do some good, but they will never applaud your lie when the truth comes out.

So for goodness sake, let's stop greenwashing the world. Let's just clean it up. For real.

To see a list of some of the world's top greenwashing offenders (and BP made that list long before the current oil disaster) check out this article at the Huffington Post.

Tony's Summer Reading List

(To the people of the Gulf, please forgive this attempt at levity. I do not mean to make light of this tragedy, actually, quite the opposite.There is absolutely nothing funny about the death of eleven men and the destruction of an entire ecosystem.)

I'm compiling a reading list for Tony Hayward. I welcome any suggestions, by the way. It would be great to send this list off to him soon so he can enjoy some summertime reading at the beach. I guess that would be the beach in Brighton, though, right? Or somewhere in the UK. Well, I guess it comes down to whatever beach his company hasn't yet polluted or destroyed.

Anyway, I thought I would start off by suggesting Thinking Like a Mountain, that wonderful book from a group of deep ecologists whom I admire. This slim volume might actually go a long way to helping Tony with his sensitivity training, because clearly the man is suffering a real disconnect with the natural world. He doesn't realize that he is human, and of course we all know that humans are really just animals after all. Gosh, Darwin has been telling us that for years. One of his own countrymen! Imagine that!

But I'm really convinced that once Tony starts reading some of the great poetic verses penned by Joanna Macy in which she slides under the skin of the beasts and the birds to speak to us through them, he will be moved. He might even learn to emote. Hell, he might even cry. I know I do every time I read the lines of the Audoiun's seagull:

"I cannot spread my wings glued with tar. Fly me from what we have done, fly me far."

My second choice is definitely Paul Hawken's The Ecology of Commerce. This is essential reading for all business leaders. Hawken posits that the environmental perspective is the only way business will prosper, and for a company like BP that is clearly only concerned about profits, this ecological analysis of business might actually be of great interest to Tony and the rest of his management team.

Finally, I really thing he ought to read The Upside of Down. Catastrophe, Creativity and the Renewal of Civilization by the Canadian intellectual, Thomas Homer-Dixon.

I am pretty certain that Tony is not familiar with our Canadian professor, respected and renowned though he is. Tony seems to have little interest in and even less regard for colonials—gosh, American culture and way of life are of so little value to him that I'm sure Canadians don’t even register as a blip on his radar.

That was unfair. He is familiar with a couple of Canadian words. (Can you say Arctic and Tar Sands?)

Anyway, this book would be very instructive, possibly life changing. I hope that he doesn't skim over the section entitled "Stages of Denial": "Not everyone considers environmental stresses to be particularly serious or recognizes how dangerous they can be."

He really needs to read this. Oh—and that concept of the world being prepared for "worst case scenarios" by engaging in contingency planning before a disaster strikes and we're plunged into global chaos would be particularly helpful to him as the CEO of a major oil polluter—er—company. Sorry. My bad. Just a little Freudian slick, I mean, slip…(whew, there's a lot of that going around lately.)

Anywho, that's my two cents' worth. Hey, it’s a start! Three books, I know, but maybe he's a slow reader. He's certainly a slow responder.

So let me know ASAP. As I said, I'd like to get this list to him before he starts his summer vacation. Because as we all know, that poor man needs to relax and get his life back.

Clumsy, Costly Apology isn't BP's only Faux Pas

BP just paid $50 million dollars on an advertising campaign to "salvage" their image. As a freelance writer, I well understand the point of corporate communications strategies and good PR. A company has every right to tell the world what they are all about and what they are doing, even what they stand for (unless of course they are flaunting outright lies); PR campaigns are part and parcel of our modern business world, like it or not.

And there are many enlightened corporate citizens out there who write genuinely well-intentioned CSR policies, and do the deeds to back up their words: donating generously to charity, sponsoring charitable events, and implementing greener, kinder initiatives within their organization. Many business leaders today know this is wise; either they have fully embraced the realization that sustainability issues are serious matters because we live in a world of finite resources, or they are keen to ensure that their company's image is untarnished in the court of public opinion. As morally dubious as the latter is, the peer pressure to "do good" in the corporate world could be keeping a lot of companies from "doing worse."

This has not been the case with BP. Moreover, BP's decision this past week to (finally) publicly apologize to the American people reveals only one true motive, and it's certainly not moral contrition. No, the only reason BP acts now to publicly apologize, and in such a lavish way I might add, is directly related to their plummeting stock value. Period. BP found itself bleeding money as fast as their well in the gulf is gushing oil. Financial loss is the only thing on BP's collective managerial mind right now.

While I am not at all impressed with how BP has handled its communications with the public and the media over the past 48 days, my real fury (contempt) for the company is reserved for their lack of preparedness and contingency planning. For a company like BP, with so much wealth and so many resources at its disposal, this sort of negligence is inexcusable and unforgivable. I would go so far as to label their attitude "aloof disdain." They are so big, so powerful, and so supported and backed by governments the world over, they simply know they can get away with murder. In the Gulf of Mexico, they have.

Before I decided to open my own small business, I worked for a large multinational bank. In the years leading up to the millennium, if you recall, the fear of a digital meltdown led to a "Y2K" contingency planning frenzy around the world. Motives aside, every business, every organization, every government and municipality on the planet was busily beavering away on their contingency/emergency plans.

As a member of the Y2K project management team, my job was to write the disaster recovery plan for my business unit. The goal was to leave as little as possible to chance, and if indeed the worst happened, there would be a plan in place to mitigate total disaster. To that end, we brainstormed multiple scenarios and solutions. I wrote scripts and steps for manual input, should it actually come to a system infrastructure failure. We reviewed, we did test runs, we made sure everyone knew what they would be doing, and then we archived it, in the event that…

In short, we were prepared.

Now, I realize that a disaster recovery plan for a financial institution is not quite the same as an engineering contingency plan for an offshore drilling rig. But the principal is essentially the same: addressing that horrible "what if." One thing you can't deny is that the stakes are significantly higher for offshore drilling, where human lives and entire ecosystems are at risk. Those factors alone should be reason enough for making absolutely certain that all possible consequences and outcomes have been envisioned and contingency measures in place to mitigate the damages if the unthinkable were to ever happen.

That a company the size and scope of BP has not engaged in appropriate emergency planning and preparedness is mind-boggling. Scientists and software at their disposal, BP could have been easily working on detailed disaster prevention and disaster recovery strategies. They should have been made to produce these strategies before being allowed to drill. Indeed, that is what environmental assessment agencies were created for, to ensure that companies who drill, mine, manufacture—whatever—are prepared, that they will do no harm to the environment. Of course, when the "watchers" are as equally corrupt and careless, then you have the BP oil spill tragedy of April 2010. Collusion is even murkier than the oil oozing into the Gulf.

Finger-pointing isn't going to clean up the mess though. Finger-pointing isn't going to bring back those eleven men who lost their lives. Finger-pointing isn't going to revive the thousands of oil-drenched birds already dead or rehabilitate the ones gasping for oxygen and still struggling to survive. Finger-pointing does nothing to save the marine life of the Gulf or repair the fragile wetlands and marshes, which may not be able to sustain life for decades to come.

For those of us who value our wild places and spaces and hold dear all forms of life, large and small—from dragonflies and frogs to herons and dolphins—the sense of despair and futility is overwhelming. If you are like me, you alternate between tears and fury. I see the oil-covered birds and I feel physically ill. The Gulf was their habitat too. But BP, clearly, doesn't give a damn about a bird's life. All that "green" sounding, eco-friendly marketing patter they've been spewing for the past decade is meaningless in the face of this horrific reality.

There is no ad campaign in the world that will make this right. Indeed, BP's disingenuous CEO is dead wrong. Instead of spending such astronomical sums now to save their image, they should have been investing in preparedness planning over the years.

For more details about BP's lack of preparedness, read this article from Newsweek.

Of Meter and Meteors

Ah, when worlds collide - Literature and Astronomy! This fascinating article will appeal to both the science junky and the Whitman enthusiast. Enjoy.

Forensic Astronomer Solves Walt Whitman Mystery

CultureLab is a great blog, too.

A Book for Earth Day

While I recommend that everyone "just get out there" today and connect with Nature, here's a recent addition to my bookshelf that is worthy of note, today of all days.
If you get a chance, read it.

The term "secular enchantment" really resonates with me, as I have always believed that our capacity to be in awe of the natural world is something deeply spiritual, older than religion ... and probably a lot saner.

So read this to dispel misconceptions about Darwin and Darwinism, and to take a wonderful journey back to your own "origins" of wonder, that capacity you had as a child to take delight in the world around you. After reading this, you realize that Darwin never lost it.

In the Beginning was the Word

Watching the Charlie Rose segment last week about Apple's new iPad and then watching the documentary Empire of the Word, which is airing again on TVO this spring, got me thinking about that hotly debated subject, the future of reading, and about books in general.

I don’t belong to the sect that is moaning about the end of the written word or the end of the book, because frankly I don’t think writing and reading are doomed; if anything, this crazy 21st century thus far is showing us a world culture that is more addicted to the word than ever before. The rise of texting (yes, I know they're not using grammar), the proliferation of platforms and accessibility to content is increasing, not diminishing. The "word" is not going away any time soon. We will always need to communicate, and we will always need good communicators.

What is changing is how content is delivered. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. We don't write on stone tablets anymore (thank goodness for that because it's bad enough having carpal tunnel let alone back problems) and we don't fill little wooden boxes with molten lead, either. Our methods of producing and disseminating content have evolved. Not a surprise, surely. Everything has changed: locomotion, housing, work, manners and mores. Welcome to the human race. (And there's something about the race to achieve, change or improve that defines us as a species, isn't there?)

Yet, despite the progression from papyrus to digital publishing, what remains and is ever constant is the Word. It's just the format that is changing. Of course, the medium will affect the message (see that texting reference), but in the end it is the continuing flow of communication and information that keeps the world going 'round. (Indeed, don't physicists tell us that perhaps our universe is more a great thought than a machine? All life is encoded information — DNA, chemicals, atoms.)

If I have any concern, it is mainly this: I hope that the great works of literature and even the obscure but extraordinarily wonderful works of literature get distribution on these new platforms. How wonderful would that be! Can I read any text I want, say from the great library in Alexandria? Or the work of an unknown but brilliant poet whose manuscripts were only recently discovered? Can I read Plato? Sappho? Montale? Kundera? Cervantes and Bellow? And Whitman? Taking my iPad to the woods and reading "these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life" suddenly takes on an entirely new and wondrous meaning. Whitman truly can go with me anywhere now, and not just the dog-earred yellowing pocketbook that gets stuffed in bags and coat pockets and will one day fall apart entirely.

The ancient Latin words "vade mecum" have a new context entirely.

So that is what would excite me: to know that I will not be limited to reading the latest mindless celebrity gossip or entertainment drivel, but that I will still be able to access the Word as given to us down through the centuries of human thought. Then that really will be a giant leap for mankind.

I like the idea of iPad. I think this will change things enormously. It is not just a toy. If it gets more people reading and accessing the papers and the newsfeeds so that they stay informed, and if it keeps children enthused about books and reading, I say great. There will always be a place for the books you hold in your hand, but if we can stop the destruction of forests to produce towers of paper books, then I say, let's …

The point is not what you are holding open in your hand to read from, what matters is that your mind is open to receive what you are reading.

More about that wonderful documentary, Empire of the Word, in another post.

Exhibit Commemorates the Work of Ivan Kocsis

Ivan Kocsis was a Hungarian artist who came to Canada in 1956 and promptly fell in love with his new country for its natural, wild beauty. He took to heart the story of the First Nations and devoted the rest of his life to painting and drawing the history of this continent's indigenous people. An amateur archaeologist and historian as well, Kocsis collected thousands of artifacts and made hundreds of pages of drawings. He visited the Six Nations Indian Reserve often and became friends with Chief Jacob Thomas and Walter Cooke at the Hamilton Regional Indian Centre. Ivan was made an Honorary Member of the Mohawk tribe. His works are in private and public collections across Canada and the United States, notably, the Smithsonian, the Museum of Man in Ottawa and the Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto.

Now, some of these works can be seen in this special exhibit in his honour, an exhibit mounted by my friend and client, Frank Spezzano, dramatist and author of Bressani.

Sadly, Ivan Kocsis passed away in October, 2008. This is a great opportunity to see some of his fine work held in private collections.

A Terrific First Novel

When I first read the draft of Spiderbones in 2007, I wrote:

“Exceptional is the way in which the writer has established mood and setting, largely through the use of the main characters’ dialogues and the location references. The story is grim, dark, gritty, unrelenting. This is one of the great strengths of the book—its atmosphere. The reader is keenly aware at all times of the world in which the author requires us to inhabit: a tough, uneasy landscape, both physically and psychologically. The characters are equally tough, rendered perfectly through their dialogue and their actions. And the town of Castle Dawn becomes not just a backdrop for the action but, eerily, a living presence as well, quite nearly a character in its own right."

I had the pleasure of meeting and working with Jeff a few years back, and I was stunned by the raw poetry of this first novel. Evocative, haunting imagery, descriptions, strong dialogue that captures the world of his young characters—we are drawn into their lives, and into the haunted mind of his protagonist, Peter, who struggles to make sense of what he sees. Visions? Hallucinations? Madness?

Here’s a passage from the novel:

There was no witness when the bat nailed the back of his head. He curled into a ball to protect himself, tossing his arms in front of his face. He saw his left arm block the wallop meant for his nose. It didn’t creak or snap. Instead, his veins filled with blistering water, heat that allowed his bones to twist as if it were jelly fitting a mould, until a bat-shaped groove was pounded into the limb.

The pain could only be described by a hallucination. Blinking, he saw a giant spider, the size of a van. She trailed a strand of rope-like material behind her as stepped away from his arm. He stared at the odd mix of grey and white leaking from her spinneret; her web was neither as shiny nor as thin as silk. Perhaps an inch thick, it proved to be easily categorized.

She was secreting bones that were digging into his arm, yoking his skeleton to her web. Unable to escape, he noticed a throbbing sac just above his arm. The silky package burst open before he screamed, unleashing dozens of hungry arachnids. The baby spiders covered his limb, filling it with stinging venom as they ate it, a thousand tiny bites that destroyed his appendage far more efficiently than a bat.

Blinking again, he watched bone turn to blood and spiders turn to kicking feet. Yet pain remained pain. Returned to the beating, he stayed curled in a ball, pinned not by a web but by his own failing limbs. This observation would do little to save his life. Without a—

“Cop!” yelled someone who couldn’t be older than Peter.

Six pairs of feet dressed in combat boots suddenly pointed their toes away from the man they would’ve killed with three more blows. Unable to remember any of their faces, even the colour of their bandanas, he passed out. He used his last thought to make a guess: without a description, or a police force fast enough to outrun juvenile delinquents, the punks who hurt him would never be caught.

He was right.

Spiderbones is available from Trafford.

A Few Good Words

There is a passage in the famous preface to the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass that I read every now and then, usually at the beginning of each new year. While I realize that we're already well into 2010, coming across these words the other day prompted me to post them.

Over the years this passage has become both creed and mantra for me, so these are good words to share. Across time, Whitman is calling upon each and every one of us, not just poets, to rise up to the challenge of being the very best we can be—compassionate, loving, wise and open-minded.

This is what you shall do:

Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body. . . .

Artists for Peace and Justice: On the Ground Help in Haiti

I haven't been blogging for some time. Mostly because I feel that I don't have much to say these days. Some despondency has been creeping into my pysche since the end of 2009, a defiantly difficult year, not just for me but for a lot of people I know and love. But my own personal angst as a small business owner about unpaid invoices and the precariousness of sole proprietorship gets sharply snapped into focus when one sees real suffering, deprivation and death - and on such a large scale.

Haiti should be in everyone's thoughts now. And it does seem that the world is responding generously and compassionately. It is quite remarkable really. Give, give, give cash is the rallying cry now. Charitable organizations large and small are seeking funds to get aid out to desperate Haitians - food, water, medicine. They need the basics.

They need everything.

I gave it some thought before I rushed to the phones or the Internet. I wanted to find an organization that could put the funds to good use immediately and would be so "hands on" that I could donate with peace of mind, knowing that even my meagre contribution would translate into something tangible for a Haitian in need. As soon as possible. Right away. Maybe hydrate a child, or prevent a baby from dying needlessly.

Well, I found that organization and I want to spread the word.

I am so proud to call Paul Haggis a fellow Londoner. (I was born in London, Ontario, Canada.) Last year he started an organization called Artists for Peace and Justice. Please follow the link and watch the video. And donate. This money will go directly into the hands of Father Frechette so that he can provide emergency aid to the children of Haiti. While all people in Haiti right now need help, regardless of their age, it is the children who are so vulnerable, so fragile. So many are orphans - were orphans even before the quake struck.

Just visit the website and see for yourself, because quite frankly I don't feel very eloquent these days. Let the images speak for themselves. The video is not easy to watch. But watch it you should.