[untitled]

i'm very proud to say my newest chapbook, [untitled], published by Propaganda Press, has just been announced for release. here is the publisher's press release:

[untitled]
by justin.barrett
$7.00 [includes shipping to USA]

justin.barrett's newest poetry collection, [untitled], is now available from Propaganda Press. Sixty pages of new material - most of it never before published - [untitled] is a raw and unfiltered look inside justin's life; personal, emotional, loving, questioning. From the metaphoric uses of science to explain loves lost and found to the analytical probing of William Carlos Williams and the red wheelbarrow, this book is a tight collective of simple recollections, moments of details jotted down as they were fleeting, preserved in a cornerstone of justin's mind and a splotch of ink on paper. The poems are at once beautiful and sorrowful, honest and dream-like, sexy and bashful, personal and universal, introspective and outright loud; the apparent paradox of which makes this collection a necessary guide and companion to the contradictions of the everyday.

This book is available from Propaganda Press for $7, which includes shipping to the US. All authors receive and set their own royalties on our press, so the purchase of this book goes to support justin directly. You can purchase this book by sending well-concealed cash, check, or money order made out to Alternating Current, PO Box 398058, Cambridge MA 02139 USA; or you can send us a direct Paypal payment using the email address alt.current@gmail.com. The book will also be available on our website once that is up and running; we apologize for the purchasing inconvenience while the new site is being built.

Please do not ask for comped or traded copies of the book, as this is an unaffordable request that hurts both the author and our press. If you are willing to review this book or get the material in local stores, libraries, or zine collections, please contact us.

here's a photo of the cover, photograph taken by yours truly:

i'm very proud of this book and i think it will go over quite well. lots of poems, some older, some brand-spanking-new. please contact Propaganda Press and purchase a copy. those of you who normally receive one of my author's copies...i'm sorry but i don't receive any this time; you'll have to purchase one. i hope you do!

***as a little extra incentive, leah from Propaganda Press informs me that for a limited time, as long as supplies last, you'll receive an extra chapbook of poetry from the back catalog when you order one of my books. bonus!***

UPDATE: please note that shipping to the US is included in the $7 purchase price. orders shipping outside the US will need to add $3 extra. sorry.

the truth about taxes

Obama will likely lower your taxes. McCain likely will raise them.

by how much you say? go here to find out.

the difference for me was over $2200. And, unlike rich bastards who already have more money than they know what to do with, i'll actually spend mine on bills (which will help the economy...call it trickle UP economics).

word clouds

here's something fun: word clouds for the Obama and McCain nomination speeches. Click the word clouds to see a larger version.

first, Obama's speech:


now, McCain's speech:


and just for shits and giggles, here's the word cloud from that nutcase Giuliani's speech from the RNC:


i doctored Giuliani's speech a little, as you probably guessed. i removed some 9-11 references to help the shape of the word cloud. ;)

check out wordle to create your own. it's fun and there are a variety of fonts, themes and such to use.
here are two i made for the GPP:

share this

this needs to be shared.
the republican spin machine is in full force and the fucking liars, crooks, general miscreants and douchebags are at it again.
but, leave it up to Mr. John Stewart to call them on it.



assholes.
oh, and Rove...Wasilla is the 5th largest city in Alaska, not the 2nd. Douche!
and does anyone else want to punch pinhead William O'Reilly in the mouth? fucking waste. makes the irish look bad.

football, poetry and politics

god damn, it's great college football season is back. GO GATORS!

i've received, and returned, the proof of my latest chapbook, [untitled], to be released by Propaganda Press very shortly. i'm very proud of this book and excited for it's release. i'll post the pertinent information here when it's released.

apparently, and this is brand new information, John McCain was a prisoner of war. did anyone else know this?
man, it might be smart for him to start using that in his campaign; like whenever he can: as excuses for his many mistakes and gaffes, as rebuttals to any questions on his ineffectual and outdated policies, as filler during speeches, as proof he's able to lead this country into war.

new books

the last post mentioned a potential chapbook to come out very soon. well, it has been confirmed. 34 poems, titled [untitled] and will be released by Alternating Current anon. price to be determined.
the Pocket Protector mini-chapbook with them will be out later, December, and will be titled Nowhere, Utah. it'll sell for $3 and is available for pre-order at the above website.
i'll update when they get released.

also, leah angstman, the publisher behind Alternating Currents, has posted a poem titled on poet justin.barrett on her blog. it's flattering having another poet write a poem inspired by reading your work. thanks, leah. :)

NOTE: see the comments section of the August 10th post (Poetry Stuff) below for more information regarding ordering, the Pocket Protector mini-chapbook series, and other stuff by leah and Alternating Current!

real quick

have two new poems up for your viewing pleasure (or displeasure) at His Cock Is Money. there are a variety of styles present in this newly released blog/journal.

there is also some news i will be reporting soon about some new chapbooks to be released by yours truly, probably next month or so. definitely one, but possibly more in the future.

also, don't forget to order your copies of the fantastic broadsides from Ten Point Press. they will be releasing VERY SOON and you WILL be stunned by their beauty. STUNNED!

and, i've not mentioned it in a long while, but the Guerilla Poetics Project is still going strong and we're over 400 logged and registered finds. check it out! all the hip kids are members. don't be the last person on your block to join...

poetry stuff

the second issue of nibble arrived yesterday, and it's every bit as good as the first. great poetry by christopher cunningham, Father Luke, Richard Krech, Christopher Robin, yours truly and many more. great stuff.

i also was recently invited to submit work for a chapbook in Alternating Current' chapbook series title Pocket Protectors. It's a very small chapbook of poems. i've submitted my stuff and will update here when i find out when it'll be published, and how to obtain a copy.

fingers crossed: why i hope we don't find life on Mars

humans have sent many probes towards Mars, some succeeding, some not. the main reason for most of these missions, at least of late, is to find life on Mars, or the evidence that life once existed there. other reasons include looking for water, in the form of ice, and to see if it really is feasible for humans to one day inhabit it.

though the discovery of life on Mars, or the evidence that life once existed on Mars, would be heralded in the newspapers and by most scientists, it could very well be a death knell for humankind (and is certainly something i hope never happens). why?

the Great Filter is why.

10 years ago, Robin Hanson wrote a very compelling article titled, The Great Filter -- Are We Almost Past It?, we he theorizes that life continues, evolutionarily, to fill each ecological niche, and with consciousness and technological advances, humans have done the same. the ultimate end being extra-terrestrial colonization. however, if this colonization is the result of life, and life is so abundant in our universe (as it is typically hypothesized to be), then where are they?
this Great Silence must be explained. one explanation is something called the Great Filter: either one or many very improbable steps that the evolutionary path must take to go from the building blocks of life to colonization.

the crux of the issue is this: if we find NO life anywhere else, it's likely that we've already made it through the Great Filter, having been VERY lucky and fortunate to have done so (obviously). but, BUT, if we do find life elsewhere, no matter how simple, and if we don't encounter any other sentient beings who've colonized other planets, then it's likely we've yet to reach the Great Filter.

it's a very sobering read.
two other articles about the same thing are here and here. (NOTE: the last one is a pdf of Nick Bostrom's great article that appeared in the MIT Technology Review.)

so, here's to hoping Spirit, Opportunity and Phoenix find nothing more than ice, iron oxide dust and basaltic rock.

a shameless plug

in the last post i mentioned 10pt Press and their first 5 broadsides, of which i am proud and honored to be one.
the broadside of my poem (Marriage, as Still Life) is designed and ready to be printed (and it's shit hot!) for an August/September release. Sean Lynch of 10pt Press is taking pre-shipment orders already, and for $5 a broadside (one that is beautiful enough to be framed and hung on your wall, even in your living room where it will look totally awesome), it's a steal. so, please, if you're into my stuff, and you want to own a geniune art object, head over to the website, check out the teaser previews (which show a small part of just how amazing these fuckers are going to look), and send Mr. Lynch an email reserving a copy for yourself. There are only 50 being printed, so they won't be around for too long.

and, while you're at it, reserve a copy of the other 4 (by Tony O'Neill, Christopher Cunningham, Hosho McCreesh, and Brian McGettrick), they promise to be just as scintillating and just as gorgeous. my order for one of each is already in.

/end plug

blinkers and motorcycles and bicycles, oh my (oh, and a poetry update)

i can't believe i didn't discuss this in my previous driving rants, but what the fuck is up with people not knowing how to use a blinker? or even what their purpose is? blinkers (or directionals, for you Europeans among us) are not an afterthought clicked on as you're making your turn, or a compulsory movement you make while you're already in your turning lane.
blinkers are to warn other people what you are about to do, so they don't suddenly ram you with their car. far too many people use blinkers as if they facilitate the turn or something. if you're already in the fucking turning lane, what's the point? put it on before you brake and get into the turning lane.
seriously, people who misuse blinkers piss me off more than those who don't use them at all. if you're willing to use the damn thing, use it properly for christ's sake!

motorcycles. have you suddenly noticed more motorcycles out on the road recently. well, apparently these things get better mileage, which means this sudden increase is a direct result of the rising gas prices. that wouldn't be so bad except controlling a motorcycle isn't easy, and isn't for everyone. with all these morons trading in their Hummers and F-150s for Harleys, without really knowing how to drive the fucking thing, we know have an interstate full of halfwit motorcycle riders (most without helmets, as that's only an optional accessory here in Utah). they're making it even more dangerous to drive on the highways, which is pretty fucking amazing.

well, what can i possibly have against bicycles? nothing, really, except there're more of those, too. and there's a small segment of bicycle riders (i.e. the director of HR for my company...ahem) who REFUSE to use the goddamn bike lane made specifically for them and ride on the edge of the car lane. what the fuck? one of these days: oops, the sun was in my eyes and my side view mirror just caught him. what, i was doing 80 in a 20? and witnesses say i swerved towards him? i don't know about all that, officer, but he was in my lane...
get over into your little, fucking lane, okay guy? christ! i'm bigger than you and the goofy fucking helmet isn't going to save your ass. (seriously, i have nothing against bikes and i'd ride to work if i didn't live so far from work, it's just some people ruin all the fun for everyone else).

poetry updates:
received good news from Jeff Fleming of nibble that two poems have been accepted for future issues. one for issue #2 and one for issue #3. hot damn. glad as hell to be in future issues of this promising new journal.

i also have been selected as one of 5 poets to be included amongst the inaugural releases of the new 10pt Press, out of Ireland. they will be broadsides designed by the ultra-talented Sean Lynch. the other 4 poets are Brian McGettrick, Hosho McCreesh, Christopher Cunningham and Tony O'Neill. a small glimpse of the O'Neill and McCreesh broadsides are available on the website, and i've seen the first draft of mine. all are AMAZING. words cannot describe the beauty these broadside will display. i'm proud as fuck to be included in this project, and with such amazing poets as Chris, Brian, Hosho and Tony!

UPDATE: Sean has posted a teaser pic of the broadside on the 10pt Press website. check it out. the thing just purrs, my friend. sexy as hell. is Lynch a madman genius? the verdict is still out, but i wouldn't bet against it! i know he's half of that, at least. ;)
i've already reserved a copy of all the other broadsides, and i recommend you do the same as these things aren't going to be available for too long. with an Aug/Sept release for them, and only 50 copies printed, most might be sold before they even ship!

some litrachure stuff

it's been a long while since i've updated this thing with anything literary.
well, here goes.

the inaugural issue of nibble arrive in my mailbox today, and it's a fabulous little journal. nibble, published by Jeff Fleming (of CannedPhlegm and Cranial Tempest of yore) out of Oakland, is a journal of short poems. i'm a huge fan and big proponent of the short poem, so this journal was right up my alley. many great poems lie between the pages of this magazine, including one by yours truly. :) pick up an issue or, better yet, support them with a subscription.

and that's it.
oh wait, i have a submission out to Nerve Cowboy, but that's about all. it goes slow here.

i picked up a new typewriter as my other two were shot and repairing them ain't cheap. so, i bought a new one (and by "new" i mean i bought in on eBay and it's new to me). it works great and hopefully will for a long while. maybe this will spark a new era in my writing: one in which i actually write. i'll call it my productive period.

what else?
i just finished A Million Little Pieces by James Frey. my wife read it years ago and said i would like it. i put in on my pile and finally got to it. good book. i understand he made up some shit, some of which were important plot points, but fuck it. yeah, so what, it's an alleged "memoir" but fuck it. we all make shit up, and we have since writing began. do we truly believe Herodotus's history of the ancient land? so, he embellished. fuck it. whatever. it's an entertaining read. the thing that got to me more than the fabrications were the odd stylistic choices in his writing: the strange, misplaced "whoms"...the random capitalizations...the run-on sentences, the need to detail every part of the action (he opened the car door and took out his keys and sat down on the seat and inserted the key and started the car and depressed the accelerator and drove off), and the lack of quotations for speech. all that shit pissed me off more than the outright lies. you had to know reading it that this shit was false, right?

anyhow. whatever. good book. next up: Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen. another book my wife recommended. hmmm...

driving redux, and a bit about science

it appears my driving post from a little bit ago did no good at all. it's as if very few people actually read my blog. that can't be.

well, regardless, people are still driving as retarded as ever. and with the increase in gas prices, we've got morons accelerating slower when a red light turns green, or on an interstate on-ramp, or refusing to get anywhere near speed limit (all in the hopes of squeezing a few more miles per gallon out of their Hummers or Suburbans).

i know it'll never change, but it still pisses me off having to negotiate around these dipshits every day.

science.

as most of you know, i work as a scientist. my official title is Scientist III. i studied science in college and have a fairly firm grasp on the scientific method and what it entails. what gets me is how little science is thought of in the general public, to non-scientists (especially politicians). i don't understand this, but it definitely exists. and, i'm not talking about those moonbat creationists who refuse to believe in the soundness of evolutionary biology. i'm talking about the everyday people who work as accountants and waitresses and bus drivers.

i get the sense that most people think science is little changed from early Greek society, when it was in the realm of philosophy, to be debated and argued and discussed; each person with a different "scientific" view of the world. trust me, it's not. nor are we in our basements trying to conjure the final alchemical formula to change lead into gold (or at least we only do that during our spare time).

science is a strict discipline of measuring, formulating, observing, theorizing, gathering more data, fine tuning theories and always (ALWAYS) updating current thought to whatever data we currently have. Newton was right until Einstein came along. it doesn't make Newton wrong, just less precise. Linneaus was all we had until Darwin. and current science builds on the previous work of scientists who've come before us.

so, what does all this mean? it means science is the best "guess" (and by guess i mean best theory based on facts as we know them now) as to how the world works; be it evolution, global warming, quantum physics or the theory of plate tectonics. there might be a discovery later that changes our current thoughts, but it WILL be fact-based.

ignoring science because it seems a little weird (quantum physics) or doesn't jive with your current (religious) world view (evolution) or is politically charged (global warming) is foolish. you do so at your own risk (and in some cases, at the risk of everyone you love). pretty much every major advancement we have seen as a species could be attributed directly to science.

we do i rant about this? i'm just sick and tired of hearing politicians and religious leaders and, well, damn near everyone else bemoan the evil that is science. without science, we wouldn't have tvs, refrigerators, cars, or airplanes. without science, we'd still die from simple bacterial infections and would have a life expectancy somewhere around 40. without science, we would still be worshipping gods and revere men who wear funny hats (oh, wait...). without science, we would still be in the Dark Ages. some people find that comforting, i find it frightening.

thanks, science; we love you!

my results

well, folks, the results are in:
my boys are all swimmers.

the doc says i'm normal in pretty much all categories, except one: motility.
which means they work fine, they're just a touch on the lazy side.
go figure.
the nut doesn't fall too far from the tree, i suppose.

next, they'll tell me my sperm likes to play video games, enjoys sipping on Beamish Stout, and can often be found lying on the couch doing absolutely nothing.
which, now that i think about it, would be weird. what would a couch be doing in my scrotum? and wouldn't i have noticed it down there?

anyway, good to know that i'm not sterile. banner day in the .barrett household, let me tell you!

rip...

May 12 1937 - June 22 2008

what i've been up to

some of you might be wondering what exactly i've been up to during my hiatus. instead of regaling you with my tales of winning multiple Olympic medals and two Nobel prizes, not to mention the numerous humanitarian awards and the Congressional Medal of Honor; instead of all of that, i will just humbly say: nothing. No, instead of tooting my own horn (which you know, from the last post, i'm quite good at) by telling you about the six Pulitzer Prize-winning novels i wrote, or the countless women and children i saved from sure death with bravery and cunning, or about the time i invented a fighter plane, test flew it, armed it, flew a one-man sortee culminating in 65 confirmed air-to-air kills; instead of all of that, suffice it to say that i didn't do very much of anything.

i relaxed. got to know myself a little better (again, see the previous post) and arrived at a point on my journey where i can finally do what i've always loved doing: eating endless bowls of Cap'n Crunch...oh, and writing poetry.

one day, perhaps, i'll spin my grandiose tales for all of your amusement. maybe one day.

today

i masturbated in a public toilet today. and i left my semen on the counter.
oh wait, i should probably preface that by saying that the wife and i are attempting to conceive and are experiencing a little bit of difficulty in doing so. therefore, we both need to be examined to ensure we both are viable and fertile.
so, at lunch today, i headed over to the hospital where i was unceremoniously shuffled into a bathroom and given a specimen cup. the nurse, or whoever she was, told me to leave the cup on the counter when i was done.

i had the option of doing it at home and transporting the...ahem...product to the hospital, but we live about an hour from it and i would need to get it there in an hour and a half. that seemed too close to me, so i chose the second option: making a deposit at the hospital.

let me tell you, guys (and girls, i suppose), there is something really unnerving about being led into a bathroom (by a woman no less) to perform something as intimate as that, with everyone else out there knowing what you're doing. and as unnerving as walking into the bathroom is, walking out is even worse; your face flush with blood, your forehead sweating, your pants oddly bulged...never mind.

i’d been practicing for this moment for many years, so it didn’t take me long; but then, i suddenly got nervous that the speed at which i was able to produce a sample would be noticed by the nurse and the receptionists and the other patients in the waiting room, so i waited. i washed my hands.
three times.
i waited, until enough time passed that it would seem like i’m capable of sustained excitement. i left the bathroom and told the nurse on my way out that the sample was on the counter.

when i got back to work, i felt fabulous: relaxed, vigorous, focused. i noticed a veritable bounce to my step. i bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time. i pinged around the hallways like a plebe cadet. if only i’d known that a lunchtime discharge would produce such a feeling of bliss and tranquility i would’ve jerked off in the bathroom at lunch every day.

if it sounds like i'm oddly proud of the fact that i masturbated in a public toilet and left my semen on the counter, i am. well, maybe not proud so much as strangely not embarrassed.
anymore.
now that it's over.

UPDATE: when i got home i told my wife about what i went through. she said she was proud of me for doing it, and in a bathroom. so, i guess my pride isn't all that strange. or maybe we're both weirdoes, i don't know.
she also said it sounded kinda odd that i had to do this in the bathroom. it was definitely a semen analysis, but i suddenly got scared that maybe they only needed a urine sample. for christ's sake, i said, i left that poor nurse a sample of semen and all she watned was some pee. she was probably wondering what took me so long (well...) and what all those noises in there were. i'm fairly certain i did everything right, but my wife has given me a fright by suggesting it.

it is rather strange, though, that i had to do this in a bathroom. i always thought it would be some kind of room, with videos or magazines (for stimulation). certainly i'd hoped it wasn't covered in shag with stained couches and recliners -- stainless steel to facilitate a complete hosing down would be best -- but, never in my wildest dreams did i imagine it would be a bathroom.
and, the least the nurse could've done was give me a hand (thank you thank you. remember to tip your waitress...).
but, nope. all i got was a specimen cup, a sterile bathroom and my imagination.
i suppose it's good thing it turns out i'm a pervert.

burning bridges

i've been giving this a lot of thought lately (no reason really...i swear). my parents always told me to never burn bridges if i were to ever leave a job; no matter what the circumstances, no matter how much i'd want to. their rationale was that you never know when you might need that person's help in the future, or when your paths might cross again.

it's a good thought, in theory, but i say FUCK THAT. arson is fun.

here's why i think burning bridges is not only acceptable, but often your only option:
1) it can actually lead to some change for those coworkers you are leaving behind whom you like. i've seen, on more than one occasion, where comments made during an exit interview sparked some change in the management. it's not common, but it does happen.
2) it makes you feel better. maybe not the best reason, but it's true.
3) it's always best to be truthful. what does sugar-coating your feelings accomplish? your boss is a douchebag. he's a perfectionist, a nano-manager and ill-suited to communicating effectively to cats, never mind other humans. let it be known, people. plus, if you were to ever find yourself on a bridge that leads in his direction you'll wish it were burned. so burn that motherfucker down.

this really has nothing to do with anything topical or pertinent to being a poet, but it's been on my mind lately. exit interviews are ridiculous, anyway. but, if you truly want to accomplish something, spew away. denigrate everyone you feel deserves it. let them sort through the ashes for whatever remains. fuck it, you've got a new job with a whole new set of assholes to deal with.

driving

i want to take some time to discuss driving. we all do it, and we all hate it. or, at least i do. why do i hate driving so much? it's because of dipshits like you (well, actually i hope you guys aren't the dipshits out there, but maybe you are). i drive over 50 miles a day to commute to my ever-loving job, half of it highway and half of it residential; and it never fails that i will encounter at least one (usually multiple) asshole/idiot/timid driver every single day.

so, what do i see out there? i see people who don't drive with a purpose. driving without purpose is far and away my worst pet peeve. if you don't know where you're going, and you don't know how to get there, and you don't know when you're expected to be there, then do not get in your car and start driving around. if you do have places to be, then fucking go there already. driving without purpose and on a cell phone is liable to get you killed (and not necessarily by an accident, unless me ramming my arm down your throat and pulling out your spine can be considered an accident).

i also notice a shit-ton of people who brake inappropriately (which might not be a big deal when going 20mph, but is a big fucking deal when going 75 on an interstate), who are too timid to make the lane change ("i see someone in my side-view mirrors, oh god...he's nearly 4 miles close to me...what do i dooooo?"), who are too preoccupied with their breakfasts or phone conversations or whatever the fuck else they are doing to realize i'm on their ass in the left lane and flashing my lights for them to move the hell over.

things to watch out for:
1) cars with temporary tags. they are new cars, or at least new to the driver. the driver is either still figuring out the car, or not willing to drive it properly lest they scratch their precious vehicle. be aware of these folks, and prepare for sudden, inexplicable braking as they learn the intracacies of their brakes.

2) Kias, Daewoos, Suzukis. i have no idea why these cars have drivers who have no idea what they hell they are doing, but it seems to be true. now, i know i'm generalizing here. hell, i drive a Saturn and Saturns could easily be lumped in there as well. anyway, invariably, whenever i'm behind a Kia i get caught up in some kind of morass of idiocy as the driver attempts to make an exit on the Interstate, from the left lane, at 35mph or some other such dumbfuckery. the new breed of tiny car is also a part of this, as are the hybrids. (Yaris, Scion, Matrix, Prius, etc.). i have no idea why this is so, but maybe morons are just attracted to this sort of car. i don't know.

3) BMWs. just watch out. trust me.

okay, i'm done with my rant. i apologize if i offended you. if i did, it’s about time you learn how to fucking drive. if i didn't, you probably deal with this crap every day, too, and nodded along.

go ahead and leave a comment of your driving pet peeves. i’m sure there are many. hell, maybe i’m the kind of driver that pisses you off. maybe you can’t stand those drivers who know where they’re going, how to get there and when they need to be there. if so, tough shit.

watch where you’re going folks, follow the flow of traffic and don’t drive distracted. and always be sure to have a purpose for getting behind the wheel.
be safe.

is there anybody out there?

doubtful.
there were very few out there when i wrote this damned thing full time. but, maybe...just maybe...there are some scragglers who check this thing in the hopes that i'll come back. today is your lucky day, you sick puppies (just as today is a shitty day for all editors...you thought you were rid of me. well, think again douchebags!) -- seems i'm back.

of course, my mother is probably the only one who checks this thing anymore. so, HI MOM! love you.

so, what brought about this ignominious return?
well, my good friend Hosho McCreesh informed me, a week ago, that it had been a full year since i hung up my spurs for the soft days of margaritas and 'smores. i hadn't realized. seems like it's been both longer and shorter than that. either way, a year is a long time and i've used it to recharge, to think, to learn, to read all the shit being published out there by all those poemwhore hacks and i realized i needed to rejoin the fray. a sort of attempt to clean up this mess.
just kidding. sorta. but not really.

anyway, lots of shit has happened in the intervening year. maybe i'll get to it in future posts. maybe not. i'm sure i'll hit some of it (like my many trips to Luxembourg and Tangiers and Laos, all the bands i hung out with while they were on tour, all the novels i wrote and won Pulitzers and Nobels for, all the concept cars i helped design and got to drive...maybe i'll get to all that if i have time and run out of interesting stuff to talk about).

what's that? i've dodged the question long enough, you say?
well, the answer is yes. i'm writing again, though haltingly and sparingly, but that's okay. i've become the Stuart Smalley of the small press world. (you remember him, right? i'm good enough, i'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.) only my mantra is: i'm sick, i'm tired and doggone it, shut the fuck up because i just don't have the time for your incessant whining you fucking, little pansy! oh, and you smell.
i've also decided to give myself a break, and vowed to not put so much pressure on myself to create. i'd lost the enjoyment of writing poetry and when that happened it was only a matter of time before i quit. i'm looking to rediscover that enjoyment again. so far, so good.

work sucks. thought i'd throw that in there. hate it. wish it didn't exist. hate most of the fools there. Utah is a spectacular place, but it sure does breed it's fair (or more than fair) share of weird, foolish, socially-inept people. happens to be that a majority of them work at my company. lucky me.

what else? not much. just glad to be back. and hope to slowly get back into the scene. hope you saved a spot for me.

that's all folks

the end

i have no idea why

puzzle but not guzzle

tickle but not pickle

conquistador but not amarillo

tintinnabulation and susurrus but not cacophony or din

go figure.

if only he weren't serious

what? two posts in one day?
yup, seems like it.

well, i couldn't pass up this little nugget of dumbfuckery. you might think he was joking; but you'd be wrong.

welcome to Utah, folks. enjoy your stay. watch out for satan and fairies and evil salt nymphs. satyrs and mermaids are probably here, too.

forgive me father...

it's been 11 days since my last post. things are pretty slow around here.

i got rejected twice by Barnstorm Magazine.

i haven't written much at all in the last 7 months, and absolutely nothing at all in the last 4. it happens. there are reasons for this current drought that are beyond my control, and i hope for it all to come back in the next few months. we'll see. the last poem i wrote was so bad that the paper i wrote it on literally shuttered at the horror. i would hate for that to be my swan song, but we all can't retire with our last at-bat being a home run.

my mother-in-law is in town for a 10 day visit. the wife is healing quite nicely and will be titrated off Coumadin soon. other than that, it's been not much of anything else. at least spring is finally here.

oh, and we've surpassed 100 finds for the Guerilla Poetics Project (107 as of this post) and are moving along quite nicely. it's the one bright spot in my life (poetically-speaking) lately.

quick update

it's been awhile since my last one. here's what's new:

Eric Dejaeger has been kind enough to translate two more of my poems, one of which he has posted on Fricotage. there are some very kind comments left about it, both for the poem itself (thank you) and for Eric's translation (which he deserves). i had to use Babelfish to translate the comments, and i doubt the translations were the best...but i got the gist.
speaking of translated texts, i've sent out copies of the Mi(ni)crobe chapbook Eric created of his translations of some of my poems. if you haven't received yours yet, it's in the mail (or i have neglected to send you one). i have 4 left, so let me know if you want one.

lastly, i was lucky enough to have two poems voted for printing as a broadside for The Guerilla Poetics Project. i'm honored and excited about this. 12 poems in total were selected out of a humongous cache of over 100. the 12 poems are all very strong and will make great additions to the already fabulous collection. the GPP is also looking to have these broadsides designed by people other than the printer, so if you are interested check out the blog and send the GPP an email.

that's it for now. some submissions out, updates when they return.

CHAMPIONSHIP SANDWICH!

well, my beloved Florida Gators done did it again!
in an historic (that's for you, Kav) win, the Florida Basketball Gators repeated as National Champions (the first since Duke in 1992, and only the second team since the early 70s). even more impressive is the fact that the Florida Football Gators won the National Championship back in January, making Florida the first school to win a football and basketball national championship in the same year, and only the second school (kudos to you, Michigan State) to have multiple titles in both sports.
this has been an amazing year for Gator athletics. i know it can't last forever, but i certainly hope it does!

update

it's been a bit since my last update.
what's new:

i received my copies of Eric Dejaeger's Microbe Editions chapbook in which my poetry is presented in both English and French (as translated by Eric). if you would like a copy, let me know. i have already put aside a few copies for those of you i think might want one, so most likely you're already listed, but still...just in case i don't have you down...

i received word from some little punk (you know who you are ;)) that one of my poems will appear in the next two issues (different poems for each issue, mind you) of The Quirk. this little punk is diligently working on getting the issue designed and collated. he promises it will be a killer issue. i'll be the judge of that, thank you very much! :) i'll update when i hear more. i'm quite excited about this, actually.

i received a rejection from Brian Morrissey of Poesy magazine, though his rejection letter was quite complimentary of me and he asked to see more. and that he shall. i hope to mail him off a new batch soon, but you know how motivation can be a challenge for me. (you don't? well, too bad i'm too lazy to tell you about it, but maybe one day...it's a pretty great story...ah, who am i kidding, it's a bore, much like myself.) anyway, Poesy is a great magazine, and i've appeared in a few issues in the past. maybe i'll slip one past him again in the very near future.

lastly, the latest month's mailings of The Guerilla Poetics Project broadsides have been received, including the first ever broadside printed by a printer other than the original GPP printer. it's a doozy, too. check out the blog for a picture. i've said it before, and i'll say it again: the GPP is something fresh and exciting. if you agree, and believe in the same ideals we believe in, then help us out in any way you can!

oh, and i almost forgot. the wife's cast came off three weeks early. apparently, she's some kind of freak of nature when it comes to healing. her bone is already mended and now she's working on getting the muscles and tendons back to strength. lucky her. if it were me, i'd be in the cast three weeks longer, probably. and my leg would look like a broomstick (or MORE like a broomstick). sad.
anyway, her leg is atrophied a little, and still quite tender and puffy. the skin is tight and swollen and bruised. it's pretty nasty, really. it was really gross before she shaved: it looked like a man's leg. ugh. but, she's on the way to a full recovery and she'll be back in the gym in no time. yea!

we've finally made it

yea! it's so damn great to live in this fucking state. what is wrong with people? seriously, what is wrong with them? man. just when you think the government couldn't get any dumber, they go and do something like this. it's enough to make someone go crazy with rage.

and if the dumbasses at the Tax Commission didn't know that merlot was a type of wine, then i doubt they'll know a muscat is too. maybe those of us here in Utah who disagree with this kind of thing should inundate the Tax Commission with applications for vanity plates featuring rare alcoholic beverages just to see if we can squeeze one past them.

that'll show 'em who they're dealing with...
maybe not, but it would still be fun.

bad moon rising

here's a photo i just took of the full moon rising over Lone Peak. i couldn't quite get it to look exactly like it did, but the ones i took with the film camera are probably much better. it was less blindingly white, as this photo shows it, and more pale yellowish-blue, with wisps of cirrus clouds streaking across it; and the faintest hint of the mountain illuminated below it.

simply gorgeous.

the ankle, and a nice email

well, it turns out the wife doesn't need surgery; a small bit of good news after a lot of bad.
she had the ankle set and casted yesterday, and will remain in a cast for the next 6 weeks. she's in a considerable amount of pain, but that too will pass soon enough. before you know it, she'll be hobbling around, then the cast will be off and she'll back up on those rocks.
we got lucky, too, in that no hematoma developed as a result of being on Coumadin. bleeding to death isn't really a concern in something like this, but hematomas aren't uncommon from soft tissue trauma. however, the swelling and bruising she experienced was normal.
and not needing surgery means she can remain on Coumadin, which is good because she'll be idle for some time, which is a risk factor for developing further blood clots.
anyway, all in all she's doing well. she fell off the horse (and hurt herself) but she's climbing back in the saddle again.

i received a very nice email today from Rachel Bunting letting me know that my poem where have you gone, Jack Kevorkian? appears as a poem of the week on Kendall A. Bell's website and that she liked the poem very much. i don't recall submitting to him (though it IS entirely possible that i did), so he probably found it on my website (or another). i'm honored to have the poem as poem of the week, and gladder still that it touched someone enough for them to email me. thank you Kendall and Rachel for your support and kind words.

well, damn

and in the continuing saga of the .barrett household, my wife broke her ankle earlier this morning while rock climbing.
for Valentine's Day i purchased a year's membership to a new indoor rock climbing gym (the largest in the west...or at least it will be when construction is finished in April). it was something she always wanted to do, and i didn't (fear of heights and all).
anyway, i decided it might be fun to try the damn thing. since the gym isn't fully completed, yet, only the bouldering section is open. we've gone a few times and really enjoy it: it's a good workout, requires some mental flexibility to figure out the best route, and is something we both can enjoy.
to continue making a short story less short, my wife was tackling a difficult route, one she'd tried days before without success. it was a hard one, at least for us newbies.
she got to the hardest part of the route and lost her grip, falling to the padded floor. it was only a 6 foot or so drop, and onto a good 2 feet of padding, but she landed awkwardly with her leg underneath her. we thought it was merely a bad sprain (i've had a few in my life, and they can be quite painful). we called our insurance ompany's nurseline, being unable to get through to our doctors, and since Julee is on Coumadin they recommended her getting the ankle checked out, just to be sure.
luckily we did, as she fractured her fibula. it's nothing severe, as fractured fibulas aren't uncommon; however, we're worried about the Coumadin and what effect it might have on the swelling, bruising and internal bleeding. she may need surgery to put a pin in the bone, but we won't know until later this week, when she can get an appointment to see an orthopaedic surgeon.

needless to say, it's certainly not something we need right now.

UPDATE: 25 Feb 07, 10:20 AM: it appears the swelling and bruising haven't gotten any worse and aren't abnormal for such trauma. this is obviously good news as it means the blood isn't pooling unusually. the risk for hematomas is definitely real when experiencing trauma while on Coumadin.

morning commutes suck.....but

at least, if things work out just right, and i get out of bed in time and eat breakfast fast enough and don't dawdle too long with getting everything ready, i get to see a gorgeous mountain sunrise like this every so often. the thing is these pictures don't even do the real thing justice. it was absolutely stunning.

almost makes the snowstorm that hit later that night worth it. ALMOST!

updates

my wife got both her legs ultrasounded (is that the past tense of the verb ultrasound? it sounds weird). anyway, she got them done and there are no clots in her legs. there shouldn't have been, but the ultrasound was performed just to be 100% certain. so, it looks like this weekend will be when we take her off the blood-thinners. i'd be a liar if i said i wasn't nervous about this whole thing. most likely, though, she'll end up back on them for life. if you're gonna roll the dice, you might as well stack the odds in your favor as much as you can.

on the poetry front, Brian McGettrick has accepted two of my poems (to not think of an elephant and Perspective from the 10,000 Foot View) for his guest-edited issue of remark. (which is due out sometime this spring or summer). i also will have a poem in C. Allen Rearick's guest-edited issue (a tangle of arms and hair), due out very soon, and will have two more poems (Sins of the Father and why i wish we never met) in a later, regularly edited issue sometime later this year.
also, i received word that one of the 18 poems i wrote for my wife about her ordeal, and our attempts at dealing with it, has been accepted by David Greenspan of Butcher Shop Press.
David wrote a diatribe lamenting the current state of poetry, and soliciting for poems that we "beautiful". i sent him a few of the poems about our recent issues, and told him that though "there might not be the beauty of a fucking daffodil in a field...or a goddamn sunset behind the smog of a forest fire...but i'll be damned if there isn't beauty in escaping death and coming out on the other side..."
he apparently agreed. the poem First Night Home was accepted and will appear in that issue.

other than this, there's nothing much else to report. the Guerilla Poetics Project is still going strong, with many new operative and 64 registered finds.

the verdict

well, the wife got her angiogram read by the pulmonologist.
everything is fully resolved!

however, she will remain on Coumadin for another 2 weeks (to make the treatment a full 6 months), just to be safe, then she'll have ultrasounds performed on her legs (to ensure that no clots are hanging out there, either) and if everything is clean we have a decision to make:
the doctor said she can either remain on Coumadin for life (which brings with it a 1% chance of bleeding to death) or she stop taking it (which brings about a 5% of a second clotting event). those percentages are pretty much even, so we really don't know what to do. the doctor, even, couldn't tell us. he said her case is unique in that she had no risk factors, and she was so young, so they'll have to play it by ear.

i think we're going to experiment with taking her off of Coumadin for a few weeks, get some genetic testing done to rule out those rare but serious disorders, then see how it goes.
i suppose the really good news about all of this is that the treatment worked and those massive clots in her lungs (she saw both angiograms -- the first one from 6 months ago and the one from yesterday -- and she said it was shocking how large the clots in her lungs were) are gone.

tapping veins

my wife got her angiogram this morning. they were finally able to tap one of her veins, and thusly inject her with the radiocontrast dye. she said it was a horrible feeling as the dye causes an instantaneous release of adrenaline, which causes the heart to race and the fight-or-flight response to kick in...but, just then, they stick you in a big tube and tell you lie still. paranoia and claustrophobia start to creep in (even if you aren't normally claustrophobic), and it gets really creepy.
also, the dye causes the blood vessels to warm up, and it's particularly noticeable around the urethra, so a few seconds after the injection you are convinced you just pissed yourself on the table.

BUT, the good thing is that the test is over. the films will be read by the pulmonologist this afternoon and we'll know what the next course of treatment is (be it continued blood-thinning therapy or not).

i'll update soon with what the pulmonologist finds.

on the poetry front, Guerilla Poetics Project found broadside #62 was just registered. we're averaging a find/register every three days. phenomenal!

an update on the wife, and a little poetics

well, we've been having a bitch of time getting the wife the xray for her chest (actually, an CT angiogram, to be precise). Monday, we went in and it turns out we were supposed to have an appointment, yet were never told to set one up. so, we drove all the way to the hospital for nothing. fine, whatever. the doctor's appointment (to have the angiogram read) was also that day, so that had to be rescheduled. we set up a an appointment for the angiogram for yesterday (Friday) and the doctor's appointment for the reading for next Monday. yesterday, we go in and the nurses (3 different ones) were unable to tap a vein in Julee's arm. she has 5 pricks on each elbow pit and one on the underside of her right forearm. and, since she's on bloodthinners, they are bruised like she's some kind of heroin addict. she had to stop because it was hurting her so much. so, no dice on the angiogram once again.
she set up another appointment for Monday morning, then that afternoon (assuming all goes well) she will have the damn things read and we'll know where we stand. her veins are deep and she's always had a hard time when she tried to give blood, but this was ridiculous. anyway, we're hoping Monday will be different.

i just found out from Eric Dejaeger that he has uploaded my poem six pack and his translation of it here. i still haven't received my copies of the book Eric released. i'm afraid they have been lost in the mail.

down goes frazier...

well, just received a letter yesterday from Greg Edwards, editor of Naked Knuckle, informing me that he has decided to call it quits. this sucks. Naked Knuckle quickly became a favorite of mine, and was consistently full of great poetry. the design, too, was original and quirky. anyway, RIP Naked Knuckle. another will come in to fill the void, no doubt, i just hope it's as good as NK.

on a personal note, my dual-language (English-French) chapbook, the uncertainty principle, was published by Eric Dejaeger's Microbe Editions. unfortunately, they are not for sale as all copies were given to the subscribers to Microbe. fortunately, i receive 20 copies to do with what i please. unfortunately, i neglected to give Eric my new address and they have now been lost in transit. regardless, i'm proud of this book and want to thank Eric for translating my poems and finding them keen enough to collect into a book.

lastly, this Friday my wife, Julee, will get her 6 month lung xray to make sure the clot has fully resolved. if so, she will be taken off Coumadin (gulp!) and we'll start the next phase of our lives. obviously, the clot being gone is a good thing, a very good thing, but being removed from Coumadin scares me as there is always the possibility another clot could form. she go through an extensive round of genetic testing in a few weeks to check out all the known culprits, and if she's clean...it's pretty much a wait and see thing. if she does happen to have one of these extremely rare disorders (please, no!), then she'll be put back on Coumadin for life. anyway, i'll post the results, in case you're interested.

GO GATORS!

and with the most dominating performance in a BCS bowl game EVER, the Florida Football Gators are the #1 team in the nation.

that's football AND basketball, folks. first time in the history of the NCAA that the same team has held the championship in both sports.

surrender, give us your women, we are coming to repeat in both!

GO GATORS!

good news for j.b!

snuck in here while j.b was in the toilet.

check this out: sanity returning?

big poetry update

the past two days i received:

* the newest issue of Nerve Cowboy (#22) in which my poem Letter to Glenn appears. other poets appearing in this issue included: David J. Thompson, Christopher Cunningham, Gerald Locklin, Michael Kriesel, Robert L. Penick, Michael Estabrook and Nathan Graziano.

* the first three issues of Adrian Manning's Concrete Meat Sheet -- a single sheet broadside journal of poetry. i will have a poem featured in issue #4. check out Concrete Meat Press for more information.

* the latest Guerilla Poetics Project broadside mailing. the package included 10 copies of broadsides #9 and #10 (by David Barker and William Taylor, Jr., respectively) which will soon be placed into undisclosed books at an undisclosed bookstore somewhere in the Salt Lake Valley.

new year college football-arama

lots of games.

there's nothing better than just lying on this couch, the laptop on, the tv switching between the many games, and doing nothing but relaxing.

gotta love it.

hope you all had a safe and happy new year's celebration.

a continuation of my assault on religion...(UPDATED)

are we really supposed to believe this book? and use it as a guide for morality? and worse, use it as a guide for a laws in a civilized society?

the bible was written by a multitude of fearful, faulty men and does NOT contain the immutable word of god. we might as well be using The Collected Works of Shakespeare as our basis for morality. we'd probably be better off if we did. plus, we'd know the contents inside were in fact the immutable word of the bard.

UPDATE:

Here are more sites to enjoy during the extended New Year weekend:
Why Won't God Heal Amputees?
The Creation Fallacy
Evil Bible
The Secular Outpost Blog
The Secular Web
American Atheists

HAPPY NEW YEARS!

a little New Years anti-religious discussion

since i posted an article about atheism from Sam Harris before Christmas, i will do the same before New Years. here is an article just published in Newsweek & The Washington Post.

also, the catering to the religious is getting ridiculous. especially when this is the outcome. this is outrageous and should not be accepted by anyone. we must cater to a small minority of biblical literalists (who believe the earth is 6000 years old!!) so we don't hurt their delicate feelings. are you fucking kidding me? the earth IS billions of years old (just over 4 to be exact). the universe is over 3 times older than that. i cannot believe that we must suspend science, knowledge, logic and rational thought so a few halfwit creationists don't get offended. what is wrong with this country?

enjoy!

oh, and Happy New Year!

the faux moral high ground (UPDATED)

today, we're going to learn about civility, folks.

there is an odd quality in some folks where they feel they can say or do anything and not deal with the repercussions. and some even get indignant at the fact that anyone else retaliates or gets angry at what they do.

let me posit an example:
say someone (we'll call him Steve) spits in another person's face (we'll call him Mark). Mark did nothing to provoke something as insulting as being spat in the face, yet Steve goes ahead and does it. Mark, as a result, gets angry and calls Steve a name (or spits back in his face, or clocks him one). Steve suddenly gets angry at Mark for reacting; for defending himself. Steve is aghast that Mark would even be upset at being spat at.
someone like Steve would say, "i'm sorry you're angry that i spat in your face." NOT "i'm sorry i spat in your face." the difference is huge. and it's telling of Steve's maturity level. in the first instance there is no real apology, merely more insults and aggression.

Steve has no right taking the moral high ground in this situation. yet, i've seen it happen a lot: at work, i've seen it happen amongst "alleged" friends, i've even had it happen to me (and recently). most of the people in this world understand we live in a civilized society, and are not Steves; but there are still enough Steves out there to make our lives miserable. we need fewer Steves and more Marks.
dissent is fine. argument is fine. but, when ad hominem and epithets start flying, it can get ugly; yet when the one who starts the ugliness suddenly becomes indignant that the other responds in kind we have chaos.

"you're stupid."
"well, you're ugly."
"why are you calling me ugly?"
"because you called me stupid."
"i can't believe you got mad at that."
"then apologize to me."
"i'm sorry you got mad that i called you stupid."
"that's not an apology."

i'm sure you've had experiences with Steves before, too.
all we can do is call them on their arrogance and rudeness, then cut all ties. life is far too short to deal with juvenile adults. it's hard enough dealing with mature adults.


UPDATE: in the above example, let's say Steve and Mark are carpenters and Steve, before the argument and subsequent spitting, told Mark that he respects Mark's abilities as a carpenter (and it was genuine). then, suppose, after Steve spat in Mark's face he goes back to his previous comment of "respecting" Mark, further driving Steve's indignation that Mark is upset at Steve. after all, he respects Mark.

well, i for one would hate to see how Steve would've treated Mark had he NOT respected him so.

i add this update because this is an important part of the faux moral high ground. a compliment will be paid just before, or during, an insulting or derogatory action to "lessen the blow", or to set up the oncoming indignation.

aren't people just the best?

new broadsides

in today's mail, i received a package of the two latest broadsides for The Guerilla Poetics Project:

GPP007 -- My Daughter's Eyes by Nathan Graziano
&
GPP008 -- work ethic by Brian McGettrick

i'll be hiding these around the greater Salt Lake area in the next few days. with one find already logged from Utah, my passions for this project have been renewed and i hope for more finds to be logged from here, soon.

& Happy New Years, folks! be safe and have fun.

some answers this Christmas Eve

as some (or all) of you may or may not know, the wife and i are atheists. we still celebrate xmas in the same way the vast majority of the country does. we don't feel this is hypocritical as xmas is no longer a christian holiday (or, at least, an exclusively christian holiday) and is more about celebrating the previous year (as well as getting a day or two off of work). also, if jesus was a real man (something that has yet to be proven) he wasn't born in December, but in sometime in the spring. a pagan winter celebration was expropriated by the christians.

anyway, i've been reading some fine "atheist" books lately (The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, and Letter to a Christian Nation by Sam Harris). they are tremendous books that should be read by all (atheist, religious, agnostic alike). the philosophies and arguments contained inside can help make this world a better place THROUGH the elimination of religion, not by expanding it. let's put it this way, religion has had thousands of years to eliminate pain, suffering, hatred and unnecessary death; yet it has done nothing more than increase the instances of each, in some cases unforgiveably so. the authors rationally and logically posit a case where atheism is better for a society. i agree.

so, for this xmas, here is a great little article on the 10 myths (and truths) about atheism by Sam Harris. enjoy.

Merry Christmas to everyone (in the secular way, that is, meaning a healthy, peaceful, happy and safe weekend!) and i hope everyone has a Happy New Year.
the wife and i are ready to wad up 2006, douse it in gasoline and set it ablaze. we are hoping 2007 is considerably better.

let us pray... :)

first ad

the very first ad for The Guerilla Poetics Project appears in the current issue of The Small Press Review. the ad will appear in the next few issues and we hope it scares up some new members. look for ads in a few other places soon.

literary update

G. Emil Reutter published a short review of my Bottle of Smoke Press book, The 25 Best-Loved Poems of the Future, in his blog. Mr. Reutter also relayed a story to me about one of the poems in the book, penis boy. he said he was at a reading recently and it was full of those bored, distracted poetry types when he got up and read penis boy to the group. the people stopped and at the end the crowd erupted in laughter and applause. what a great thing to hear.
as G. Emil said in his email, it is not important enough to just turn a clever phrase and crystalize a beautiful image. one must also relate to the readers, and this is what i (and a whole host of others out there) aim to do in our poetry. it's always a fine thing to hear that you have been successful, at least once!

and THIS is what the Guerilla Poetics Project is all about: bringing poetry back to the people by connecting with them in a way they aren't used to.

thanks for the kind words and review, G!

the funniest man in the world

we had the pleasure of seeing Brian Regan live last night. if you are not familiar with Mr. Regan's comedy, you are in for a treat. I recommend purchasing his CD and DVD. you will NOT be disappointed. and, if you ever get the chance to see him live, DO IT! the show was sold out, at a University of Utah auditorium, and we were in the very first row. it was a fabulous night. he put on a great show. so great, in fact, that one of the security guys, his back to the stage, was laughing throughout the entire show.

some housecleaning

my father-in-law and step-mother-in-law are in town until Thursday. we haven't seen them in over a year (when we flew back to Florida last year). this is their first time out here in Utah in the 7 years we've lived here. we'll have a good time taking them around to see the sights, to point and stare at polygamists, to goof on all the crazy, rural Utahns.

and most importantly, my Florida Football Gators won the SEC Championship, are 12-1 overall while playing the most difficult schedule in college football. They earned the right to play Ohio State University for the National Championship in January; to which we have scored some tickets.
Go Gators!

no poetry updates to speak of, other than the fact that 21 broadsides have been found and registered in the Guerilla Poetics Project. this movement is gathering steam.

guerilla poetics

broadside #17 has been found and registered.

we are averaging a find every 5 days. there have been, however, 4 in the past 3 days. the movement is gaining momentum, the project is gaining credibility. we have over 90 operatives in 3 continents, and we're about to take over the world.

if you haven't joined us yet, you should do so NOW!

it's beginning to look a lot like...

we had the first real snow of the season the other night. you know, there's still something so magical about waking up to a couple of inches of pristine snow. the sledding is nice, and snowshoeing is a wonderful wintertime activity, but unless you're an avid skier, the snow really isn't all that much fun: you have to shovel it from your walkway, the temperatures are brutal, and (at least here in Utah) the salt they use on the highway to melt the ice is hell on your car.
here's a picture from outside our house:


but the worst is the driving. it's amazing to me how people seem to FORGET how to drive in the snow every year. they live here. they've been through it before. it's not like we are suddenly a bunch of Louisianians who've never seen snow. how can they forget how to drive.
yesterday, we had over 60 accidents on the roads. it took me one and a half hours to get to work, where it normally takes me less than 45 minutes. it's ridiculous. some people slow down to the point of inanity, while others fly by at speeds so unsafe it's almost funny. and the worst are the morons driving 4X4s. they think they are immune to the laws of friction.
just because your vehicle gives power to all four wheels doesn't mean it won't slide on a patch of ice.

but, the snow really is beautiful. and the ski resorts are open now, so if you're into skiing you might want to make your way out to Utah for some fine powder. apparently, we have "the greatest snow on earth" (don't groan at me, i didn't coin the slogan). so much so, it's even on our license plates.

i have to get the car washed soon. it's streaked with dried salt and mud. the snowbanks along the sides of the road, where the snowplows mounded the snow, are covered in dirt and exhaust. but, it's gorgeous, clear, cold days like today that make you happy to be alive. well, maybe not the cold, but the rest of it is nice.

a movie, two broadsides and some updates

i recently saw the movie Factotum, based on Charles Bukowski's book of the same name. the young actor who played Henry Chinaski (the alter ego hero of Bukowski's writings), one Matt Dillon, did a fairly fine job. He has a bright future ahead of him in the movies i think. i wouldn't be surprised to see him more often.

one thing that confused me was Chinaski, as played by Dillon, was left-handed in the movie. lefties are always shocking to us righties (i mean, when you give someone a pen to write something down and they start writing with their left hands, you can't tell me that shocks you...it's not natural). i was unaware that Chinaski/Bukowski was a lefty. if not, then Dillon did a horrible job portraying Chinaski. if you're any kind of an actor you switch your dexterity based upon the character you're inhabiting. it's rule #1 in acting. or possibly rule #2. i'm not real sure.

one last thing about the movie is Lily Taylor and Marisa Tomei are also in it. and Ms. Tomei is nekkid, for you horndogs out there. it's a fine movie, a bit slow and without much plot (the hallmark of Bukowski novels), but worth the $6 on PPV.

the other day i received the two newest broadsides of the Guerilla Poetics Project. these are broadsides #5 and 6. i plan on going out this weekend to stick them in books around the Salt Lake Valley. i've mentioned the GPP here before, so don't make me do it again (though i will). visit the site, read the manifesto, see what it is all about. then, if you like what you read and agree with our philosophy, purpose and tactics, join us!

i received word from Eric DeJaeger in Belgium that my bilingual chapbook, the uncertainty principle, will be out soon. it will feature a bunch of my short poems in English and their French translations as interpreted by Mr. DeJaeger. i am very excited about this book and will update when it is released, which shouldn't be long.

and, lastly, i haven't spoken very much lately about Hemispherical Press as i've not really done much of late. there are 4 releases on the docket, though, and the first, Or. by David Michael McNamara, a small book of 5 poems, will be out shortly. future releases included chapbooks by Owen Roberts, C. Allen Rearick and Hosho McCreesh.

getting paid

i received my contributor's and subscriber's copies of The Stinging Fly in today's mail, along with a check for $30 as payment for the pleasure of being published.

it's not the first time i was paid for my poetry (i won a poetry contest a few years back which netted me $45 and came in second the year before for $20) but it is the first time i've been paid for a poem to be published in a non-contest issue. i think i could easily get used to this.

The Stinging Fly is out of Dublin, Ireland, and is a GORGEOUS, glossy journal filled with amazing writing (both Irish and International). it's a damned honor being published in it, and it's an indescribable feeling being paid for your work. i highly recommend it!

naked knuckle

i received my contributor's and subscriber's copies of the new Naked Knuckle yesterday. Issue #7. my poem Of An Otherwise Stark, Rural Highway kicks off the issue. other poets include Karl Koweski, David J. Thompson and Michael Estabrook.

Naked Knuckle is a great small-format journal out of Modesto, California. subscribe. submit. support.

i heard from my friend (and fellow writer) Kelly Thompson that the new The Stinging Fly is out, where my poem the perfect night is featured. i will update when i receive it.

update

i received a rejection today from The Burnside Review (my second rejection from them). it would appear i'm not quite right for them. shouldn't probably submit there anymore (mental note).

i also heard back from Adrian Manning of Concrete Meat Press that my poem "marriage as still life" will be published in a future issue of his one-sheet journal Concrete Meat (potentially issue 4). i'll update when it comes out.

other than that, not much going on. i've submitted very little in the last few months, so i shouldn't expect much in the way of rejections (or acceptances) in the near future. and, neither should you.

Number Seven

and just like that, broadside #7 of The Guerilla Poetics Project has been found. these really are like the golden tickets of Willy Wonka (or at least it feels that way in my mind):

I've got a golden ticket. I've a golden chance to make my way. And with a golden ticket, it's a golden day...

anyway, #7 was found at Moe's in Berkeley, California (the first broadside found in the US west of the mighty Mississip). the broadside was found in a copy of Ginsberg's Howl, and it just so happened to be the first broadside the GPP created, featuring my poem like fireworks. when it was registered, this is what the young woman had to say about the broadside:

I was looking at three different books about Howl and Ginsberg and so I'm not 100% I listed the right book that I found the poem in, but I think it was that one. The poem just rocks my socks, and it felt extra-magical because I found it like a little hidden treasure- like the poem was meant for whoever found it, and that was me, and I feel very lucky. Tell Justin Barrett his poem made me do a little dance in Moe's. Your project is really cool..."

what a wonderful thing to hear. THIS is precisely why the GPP exists. we are attempting to touch the very core of people's beings; those who otherwise would not have known our work.

now, join us in hiding these golden tickets so that others may be similarly touched, and may find their entry into the hidden Wonka world of poetry.

what i've been up to

it's been a while since my last update. not doing much of anything. just working, working out and working on The Guerilla Poetics Project stuff.

i've decided to whip together an update as my mother said if i didn't my "fans" would be upset. what a dear.
FANS! my mother is so funny. ya gotta love her.
the only fans i have are: myself, my dog, and my mother. and i'm not even certain about my dog.

anyway, there are a few things to update:

i received my subscription copies of Poesy, the International Issue, with a wonderful interview by my Australian buddy Glenn W. Cooper. and, he's kind enough to even mention me in it. thanks Glenn. Poesy is a great journal full of good poetry.

i also, out of the blue, received a package full of Poems-For-All from Richard Hansen and the 24th St. Irregular Press for my poem counterfeit poem. i had two other poems published for Poems-For-All, a few years ago.

Lastly, we've had a 6th broadside found and registered with The Guerilla Poetics Project. this movement is gaining some serious momentum, but we still need your help. if you are not already involved, please check the website out and support us. there are a variety of ways you can help us ranging from a straight donation to purchasing donated goods to becoming an operative in the field.

dominating the small press

my buddy Glenn W. Cooper appears in the recently released International Issue of the journal Poesy, where not only are his poems featured, but a wonderful interview. Glenn is an amazing poet living in a cultural island and continent wasteland in the middle of the Pacific.

this is Glenn's 4th interview (2nd in print) and i am so proud of -- and happy for -- him.

and thank you, Glenn, for the plugs for my own work; you're the tits.

poems are meant to be found

The Guerilla Poetics Project is barrelling along like a locomotive off its tracks; gaining speed as it careens down a treeless hill towards the small press village in the valley.

to date, five broadsides have been found of the hundreds that have been placed across this world. three of the five are even from different countries (Ireland, Canada and the US).
we are always eager to find more operatives, especially in places where we currently have no presence. if you are interested in helping us subvert the current publishing paradigm, while also connecting great writing to the masses, then check out the website and join us.

while you're there buy a chapbook or two, or one of the snazzy vinyl stickers or a set of coasters, the proceeds of which all go to the furthering of our mission.
and coming soon: a GPPReader featuring great poetry of the GPP.

this is going to be huge, folks. for once, be part of something larger than yourself; something beautiful; something immortal.

for what are we paying?

my wife is required to get her blood thinning levels (known as an International Normalize Ratio; or an INR) checked every so often. She has been on Coumadin for six weeks now (with four and a half months to go, at least) and in the beginning her levels will fluctuate as the doctors try to pinpoint the correct dosage for her body chemistry and eating habits (certain foods can counteract the effectivity of Coumadin).

a therapeutic INR level is between 2.0 and 3.0 (where a 1.0 is "normal"). she has gone to the clinic weekly to get it checked out, and it's fluctuated rather wildly. it rose up to 3.7 three weeks ago, whereupon her dose was adjusted. it dropped the subsequent week to 2.4 (just about where she needs to be) and was told to come back in two weeks. being the vigilant and intelligent girl she is, she went back the next week (just last week) surmising that without an adjustment it is likely her INR had continued to plummet.
it had dropped to 2.0.
then, the doctor told her to come back in a month without adjusting her dosage! A MONTH! he obviously didn't review her chart, or the trend of her levels, or anything like that. anything BELOW a 2.0 and she is at risk to have another clot. jesus h. christ!

well, my vigilant and intelligent wife KNEW a month wasn't right as her levels had been steadily dropping, and who was to say it plateaued at 2.0? she went back this week to get it tested and lo and behold! it was at 1.6! well below the therapeutic level. if my wife wasn't vigilant and intelligent, she would've been walking around with an increased chance of having another thrombic episode, and we would've been through the same hell we just went through six weeks ago.

so, my question is this: what the hell are we paying this guy for, exactly?
insight? no.
concern? no.
expertise? no.
incomptence? apparently.
apathy? definitely!

i can tell you this, we will no longer be paying him a dime. we're looking for another clinic that can handle the workload; with doctors who care, understand trends, and with the time (or ethics) to do their job right.

and all of this now reminds me of a little joke:
Q. what do call a person who graduates last in his class in medical school?
A. doctor.

it appears we found ourselves such a guy.

words dance

i received my contributor's copy of the new words dance (issue #10), where my poem an avalanche of suffering is featured on page 15 (only like the greatest page of every single journal, apparently (or else why was i featured there?)!).
other poets featured in this issue (edited by Jessica Mahlstedt, by the way) include: Christopher Cunningham, C. Allen Rearick, William Taylor, Jr., Nathan Graziano and S.A. Griffin. it's a fabulous issue. you should check it out. your mother would be proud.

benign neglect

that's what the cardiologist says the treatment for my "condition" requires. basically, he is saying that what i have (the ectopic heartbeat, or premature ventricular contractions (PVCs) and premature atrial contractions (PACs)) are entirely normal and not life-threatening.

but, that's easy for him to say.
sure, i believe him. my heart is healthy and strong. the stress test proved that. (apparently, too, i wowed them by staying on the thing for 12 minutes. it wasn't 3 minutes as i previously mentioned, but 12 whole minutes. suck it, losers! AND, that was with me out of shape. once i'm in shape, watch out.)

anyway, this good stress test is allegedly a clean bill of health for one year; meaning that there is little to no chance of anything heart-related happening to me in the next year. that's good.
but, the PVCs and PACs are very disconcerting. and scary. it's one thing to say, "don't worry about it, they are benign, ignore them" and it's another thing altogether to actually IGNORE your heart stopping and starting again. this ISN'T what is actually happens, but i'll be damned if it isn't what it feels like. i wish i got a copy of the EKG where one of these PAC occurred. it was crazy to see your heart flatlined for over 2.5 seconds, have a humongous palpitation, then continue on like nothing happened.

anyway, all in all, i'm heart healthy and should be kicking around for a while yet.

and i know that makes all of you feel just a little bit queasy, doesn't it? ha!

virus and concrete meat

Adrian Manning of Concrete Meat Press has put up a "Concrete Meat Press Suggests" page where he will feature the poetry of those poets he likes. two of my poems are up already and other poems by dozens of other poets will be appear over the next few weeks. check it out and support the small press by purchasing one of CMP's offerings.

also, i've contracted a terrible chest cold and have been convalescing for the past few days. i'm catching up on my email and correspondence, so if you i owe you one, sorry. i don't know about you guys, but i do not handle being sick very well. my wife says i revert twenty years or so into a whining teenager. i say she's wrong by about ten years. i easily act more like a whining 5-year-old than a teenager.

more poetry news: the first broadside of the Guerilla Poetics Project has been found. the new website will be up very soon which will include better broadside registration abilities, and a fabulous forum. this is getting big, folks. if you're interested in joining us as an operative, visit the site (or the blog) and let us know! we can use all the help we can get.

stationary bike

i started working out today -- riding a stationary bike for 30 minutes.
my thighs burned something fierce, but i kept up pretty good. it felt great to get the lungs puffing and the blood circulating.

tomorrow, i'll shoot for 45 minutes. any more than that and i'm sure to pass out.

farewell sedentary lifestyle

on Monday, i had my stress/treadmill test at the cardiologists. the doctor said his initial impression is that everything is a-ok. my heart is healthy and strong. blood is flowing properly and sufficiently. i have an appointment with him in two weeks for the final verdict, but it appears all i have is an irregular heartbeat (my heart skips a beat every so often). this is called an ectopic heartbeat. it's benign and not life-threatening, but is quite startling and disconcerting when it occurs. a skipped beat feels like the heart has stopped, then kicks back into action. scary. i did get to see what it looks like on the EKG, and it's a two second flatline followed by a sharp spike of activity. wild.

unfortunately, this condition can be aggravated by certain foods and drinks, specifically caffeine and alcohol. both do affect my arrhythmia (making it more frequent) so i now have to curtail my intake of both.

however, the diagnosis is good news. certainly could've been worse.

but, back to the stress test. having lived a fully sedentary lifestyle the last year and a half, my body is NOT used to moving in any kind of aerobic way. so, running on a treadmill was a shock to my system. the point of the test is to get the heart rate up and push the body to exhaustion so that an echocardiogram can be taken at that point (the technician had only one minute after i dismounted the treadmill to get a complete echo of the heart; this was no easy matter, trust me). an echo of the heart at exhaustion can tell a lot more than one at rest. any problem is magnified. any irregularity is revealed.
well, it didn't take long at all for me to reach exhaustion. in a matter of three minutes i was huffing and puffing, my heart rate pushing past 200 bpm, sweat dripping off of me. THREE minutes! it was embarrassing.
and today, two days later, i'm so sore that i can barely walk. pathetic.

it's so embarrassing and pathetic, that i've decided to finally get up off my bony ass and start working out. soon, i'll be taut and lithe. not really, but i'll at least be able to last longer than three minutes. that's the plan, at least.

three minutes.
man, how disappointing. i guess i know how my wife feels, now: unfulfilled, unsatisfied, left wanting. there's only so much one can do in three minutes.

words dance

i received word that my poem an avalanche of suffering was accepted by words dance's guest editor, Jessica Mahlstedt, for issue #10; a print issue.

i've appeared in a few previous issues of words dance -- both online and in print -- in the past. it's a fine journal of poetry filled with quality poems. check out the website and subscribe/submit.

the diagnosis

well,
it appears there is nothing wrong with me (or my heart that is). the cardiologist said everything looked normal, the electrical pulses and sinus rhythm looked normal, the muscle appeared normal and strong. the only thing he noticed was the membrane between the left and right atria was thin and i potentially have something called a Patent Foramen Ovale (PFO) that 25% of adults have. it isn't life-threatening and things should be fine. there is still the possibility a small hole exists, but unless i have consistent symptoms there's nothing to worry about.

i am currently wearing a Holter Monitor (a 24-hour EKG device) in order to attempt to capture the bizarre and disconcerting arrhythmia that i experience. i will be taking a treadmill/stress EKG test on Monday and will follow up in two weeks to see if there is anything they find from these new tests.

it appears all the symptoms (apart from the arrhythmia) were due to stress and panic. i'm wondering if my wife's episode just 4 weeks ago played a part in this. now that she's well and back to normal i probably started to relax and all the emotions and pent up nerves and anxiety just flooded through my body causing my heart to race and i panicked.
i'm also prone to panic attacks and high anxiety. it's one of the fabulous Barrett traits along with a very big....well...nevermind.

anyway, it appears things are well.
for those of you hoping this was the end of justin.barrett, sorry suckas!it'll take more than a bum heart to get rid of this guy.

for those well-wishers out there, thank you!

i might have a weak heart, but there ain't no keeping this bastard down. for too long, at least.
ha!

i LOVE mail...and an eerily prescient title

in today's mail was a fine package from S.A. Griffin, venerable poet, artist, actor living in Los Angeles. in the package were a heft stack of his fabulous one-sheet journal MEAT, issue #10, with my poem our current president included. i'm honored to be included in issue #10. some great poems by Mr. Griffin, Ann Menebroker, Scott Wannberg, and others.

and, while reading through the previous posts on this blog (yes, i'm a vain egoist and i read my own posts from time to time), just before writing this, i noticed the eerily appropriate title to the post regarding my wife's own health issues: "the terror of your heart ripped from your solar plexis". it wasn't my heart that was ripped out during this ordeal, but a small hole.

my wife has that hole now. like e.e. cummings she carries my heart in her heart.

echo (updated)

i had my echocardiogram today. i won't find out the results until Friday morning, when i will see the cardiologist and he can give me the final diagnosis.

but, the echocardiogram is really fucking cool. first, the technician just searched around the front my chest, and we saw the pumps working and the valves flapping. then she went down around to the side of the chest and we saw the 4 chamber of the heart. she was even able to colorize it to see the blood flow.

then, she pulled out another instrument and we got to see my heart in 3D. and she was even able to take slices off of the 3D heart and view the inside, all the walls, the septa. it was insane. i've never seen anything like it.

also, it was all in real-time, so whatever my heart experienced could be seen on the screen. that was trippy.

before the whole echocardiogram began, the technician asked me what was going on, to get an understanding of what i was experiencing. she then asked me if there was any family history of heart problems, or any sudden deaths. i remember the ER doctor asking me the same thing when i was in there. i said no, because to the best of my knowledge there have been no heart problems in my family, either side. granted, we're not the closest of families and there are uncles i haven't seen in 20 years or more.

but, it just occured to me that my maternal grandfather died suddenly and unexpectedly when my mother was five. i'm terrified now that maybe he has some kind of heart condition. i know very little about the guy, other than his name, so it's possible he did have heart problems. i've asked my mother about it but haven't heard back from her yet.

anyway, Friday will be the day we find out the prognosis; and whether surgery will be necessary or not. i'll update when possible.

UPDATE: i heard back from my mother. my grandfather DID die of a sudden heart attack. "coronary thrombosis" was the official cause of death. FABU-fucking-LOUS! he was only 48, too. shit. i'm only 33, but that ain't too far off. so, i must inform my cardiologist of this, just to be safe. i hope that what i have is nothing related to what happened to him.
and now, i must attempt to remain calm for the next 40 hours; not gonna be easy.