OMNIA SUNT COMMUNIA

Destaco per saber un munt de coses inútils. Això no m'ho treu ningú. Internet és un mitjà on pots descobrir centenars de milers de milions de coses inútils; és la nova pol.lució; neta, silenciosa. Li vaig dir a un heideggerià que Internet era l'invent humà més proper a Déu o a l'infinit i em va refutar badallant. Jo el vaig deixar fer; discutir amb un filòsof és donar-se cops contra la paret i em va fer mandra intentar convercèr-lo d'una cosa tant obvia com que la terra gira al voltant del sol i no a l'inrevés.

Bé, al cas, us recomano una pàgina web sobre Bukowski. Com que sóc un illetrat, m'agrada molt Bukowski. Sí, ja sé; és un poeta per adolescents, i està de moda, i el que vulgueu, però si una cosa t'agrada, t'agrada i punt. A més, només cal llegir-se aquesta poesia que trobareu en la web aquesta que us recomano, per a descobrir una polèmica (us agraden, sé que us agraden!)

I Meet The Famous Poet.
this poet had long been famous
and after some decades of
obscurity I
got lucky
and this poet appeared
interested
and asked me to his
beach apartment.
he was homosexual and I was
straight, and worse, a
lush.

I came by, looked
about and
declaimed (as if I didn't
know), "hey, where the
fuck are the
babies?"

he just smiled and stroked
his mustache.

he had little lettuces and
delicate cheeses and
other dainties
in his refrigerator.
"where you keep you fucking
beer, man?" I
asked.

it didn't matter, I had
brought my own
bottles and I began upon
them.

he began to look
alarmed: "I've heard about
your brutality, please desist from
that!"

I flopped down on his
couch, belched: "ah, shit, baby, I'm
not gonna hurt ya! ha, ha,
ha!"

"you are a fine writer," he
said, "but as a person you are
utterly
despicable!"

"that's what I like about me
best, baby!" I
continued to pour them
down

at once
he seemed to vanish behind
some sliding wooden
doors.

"hey, baby, come on
out! I ain't gonna do no
bad! we can sit around and
talk that dumb literary
bullshit all night
long! I won't
brutalize you,
shit, I
promise!"

"I don't trust you,"
came the little
voice

well, there was nothing to
do
but slug it down, I was
too drunk to drive
home.


when I awakened in the
morning he was standing over
me
smiling.

"uh," I said,
"hi..."

"did you mean what you
said last night? he
asked.

"uh, what wuz
ut?"

"I slid the doors back and
stood there and you saw
me and you said that
I looked like I was riding the
prow of some great sea
ship... you said that
I looked like a
norseman! is
that true?"

"oh, yeah, yeah, you
did..."

he fixed me some hot tea
with toast
and I got that
down.

"well," I said, "good to
have met
you..."

"I'm sure," he
answered.

the door closed behind
me
and I found the elevator
down
and
after some wandering about the
beach front
I found my car, got
in, drove off
on what appeared to be
favorable terms
between the famous poet and
myself

but
it wasn't
so:

he started writing un-
beliable hateful stuff
about
me
and I
got my shots in at
him.

the whole matter
was just about
like
most other writers
meeting

and
anyhow
that part about
calling him a
Norseman
wasn't true at
all: I called him
a
Viking

and it also
isn't true
that without his
aid
I never would have
appeared in the
Penguin Collection of
Modern Poets
along with him
and who
was it?

yeah:
Lamantia.

Sóc un col.leccionista de coses inútils. No conec Lamantia. Potser investigui una mica més. Les polèmiques antigues tenen més estil que les actuals. Als illetrats ens són molt útils, les polèmiques: De primeres veus que poden ser tant xabacans i miserables que et guardes prou d'admirar-los més del compte. Després comences a observar ironies soterrades, míssils subaquàtics, bales perdudes... aquí els insults ja no són primaris, sino ben elaborats, manufacturats i detallats. I a sobre, quan t'avorreixes, pots llegir-te a Carner, per formar-te una opinió -que per cert, ningú et demanarà-.

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Em remiro la pàgina de Buk que us enllaço, i veig que també ens podem adherir a una vella polèmica; la de baixar-se llibres per la Xarxa. En la pàgina de Buk et pots baixar un parell de llibres.

Recordo un dia. Jo, amb tota la cara, vaig gosar presentar-me en un curs que organitzava un editor fent una encesa apologia sobre el copyleft, que jo m'acabava de llegir aquí. Els meus companys em van classificar com un pedant xarlatà, i l'editor no sé què va poder pensar. Jo vaig convenir que no vaig entrar amb bon peu a l'apassionant món de l'edició. Eppur si muove; ommnia sunt communia, vaig fer girant el cap 360 graus, al sortir del gremi d'editors.