Ahh. A chapbook is a short poetry pamphlet of about 16 - 32 pages or so. It can be sold in its own right at gigs etc - but also used as a sample of your abilities to send to people who might be able to take you further.
I Find this poem is really profound. I don't know if I'm going off kilter with this but I worry about society not acknowledging that those they class as role models shouldn't be left anywhere near young people.I think role models are people who are kind and honest,who encourage and respect boundaries and are without a hidden agenda. I think role models can therefore come from any background if they inspire and instill feelings of confidence and self worth in those around them
This is going to sound Soooh naff but you know that I was a massive fan of your alter ego Mike Montez and of Eddie the Mad Banana well I was talking to a man called Ian in the Republic bar today. He wrote a book a while ago about the Adelphi and I was saying how great it was there and how wonderful I thought people like you, Eddie and Dave Rotheray al were,even though I was too shy to speak to any of you. For a teenage girl the atmosphere , to me was always so friendly and inclusive and safe that it had a really positive effect on me that I still appreciate to this day .I did comment, however, that I wished all the young men I met in future years were as lovely as you lot
I think I remember the Helmet , infact it seems more familiar the more I think about it. The discos were fabulous, I seem to think you closed them with the laughing policeman but I might have dreamt it.Love the photo of you and Eddie
As I tuck my thumbs behind the lapels of my long black cloak, I push back into my headmasterly chair and catch myself saying: "Well, O'Brien...." in a chalky, knowitall way. You've acted out my theory of catharsis, as perhaps only a thinking man might. Thinking, for the uninitiated, is a process by which one either arrives at or stumbles into interesting and useful outcomes. It doesn't prove we exist, and why should I care anyway?
If I might try to exonerate myself, from what I've seen of these rôle related pieces, they have each been associated with either abuse or some some admirable trait (in the person admired or acting in the piece as a rôle to be copied). Individually, they are singular issues with no context. Put them together as "O'Brien" just has, and there you have it. A self-purging that has lead to a letting go of negativities which commingles exemplarily with a positive and open outlook.
So need any of it have been published - and wouldn't reading oneself back have done the trick? Well, yes and no. For the outgoing creative, it is perhaps like someone in the next seat on the bus pouring their heart out. Perhaps we need a fleet of psycho-buses touring the working-class streets? "Fity quid? Am only gunner 'igh street" Move along inside please, there's more...
The poem at the end (didn't it figure in some item you performed at Fox Gallery?) sums up really. At least the negatives - how uncomfortable the issue of that person wishing they'd had a child and imagining how they'd be. Ooh, writhe.
We should perhaps beware of the pejoritive stereotype, and indeed the pejoritive genotype (wow, new media studies term!). Not all gaberdeen-cloaked gents are Victorianised oddities who's model child rôle is hammered into hundreds of school interns, be that bent, altruistic, whatever. Older minds might see that they wish only to exude authority in order to maintain order, as my experience of school felt more like a street in Northern Ireland in the 70s. Student wise that is. On the other hand (but not in it), one or two teachers were heart on sleeve kind. With my sort of temperament, that worked. Alas real life sends hoards of mad hateful unruly gobshytes vomiting, fighting, swearing and cajoling until they depart, still not knowing what the word 'diploma' means.
Beyond this, I note with amusement and some self-realisation the points re being like your dad. I have one or two mannerisms. But in appearance, I throw back to my great garandad George - thinner of structure, except he had more hair. As did mum, whom I more closely resemble, in feature and temprament. Thusly artistic, sentimental - I choke watching strictly or the Waltons. Yet, like mum I've been through the wars - but shrug it off. I don't make it part of my iron will (hahahahaha).
Whilst I have been busy sabotaging my own musical career, Mike has unsold his writing at many levels. Funny how a lack of self-worth seems to breed apologetic hopelessness or something like that. By comparison, I've just begun read a musician's biog, Dave Grohl. He had some moral fibre examplified in by his mum, but interestingly no religion. How I envy 'godless' kids. No checks or imbalances keeping them inferior. No "how dare you speak to me like that?" superiors. I do wish for my time again. From about day two I'd have the presence of mind to say "f@ck you" with attitude. And I'd absolve myself of this livelong victim behavioural loathing of bullies. First one to try it, SMACK and I wouldn't stop punching the bastard until they dragged me off.
Because, in closing, we learn to oppres ourselves after a time. We avoid that street, part of school, person. We daren't flaunt our opinion regardless of how it often turns out correct - for fear of being reprimanded and made to look stupid because we're always wrong. Perhaps my fav keybash is bullybashing? Certainly gives yer summat ter think abaht...
Mike what is a ‘chapbook’?
Ahh. A chapbook is a short poetry pamphlet of about 16 - 32 pages or so. It can be sold in its own right at gigs etc - but also used as a sample of your abilities to send to people who might be able to take you further.
I Find this poem is really profound. I don't know if I'm going off kilter with this but I worry about society not acknowledging that those they class as role models shouldn't be left anywhere near young people.I think role models are people who are kind and honest,who encourage and respect boundaries and are without a hidden agenda. I think role models can therefore come from any background if they inspire and instill feelings of confidence and self worth in those around them
This is going to sound Soooh naff but you know that I was a massive fan of your alter ego Mike Montez and of Eddie the Mad Banana well I was talking to a man called Ian in the Republic bar today. He wrote a book a while ago about the Adelphi and I was saying how great it was there and how wonderful I thought people like you, Eddie and Dave Rotheray al were,even though I was too shy to speak to any of you. For a teenage girl the atmosphere , to me was always so friendly and inclusive and safe that it had a really positive effect on me that I still appreciate to this day .I did comment, however, that I wished all the young men I met in future years were as lovely as you lot
They were happy days in the Adelphi. I had a short piece on their webpage recently. https://www.theadelphi.com/all-behold/
I think I remember the Helmet , infact it seems more familiar the more I think about it. The discos were fabulous, I seem to think you closed them with the laughing policeman but I might have dreamt it.Love the photo of you and Eddie
As I tuck my thumbs behind the lapels of my long black cloak, I push back into my headmasterly chair and catch myself saying: "Well, O'Brien...." in a chalky, knowitall way. You've acted out my theory of catharsis, as perhaps only a thinking man might. Thinking, for the uninitiated, is a process by which one either arrives at or stumbles into interesting and useful outcomes. It doesn't prove we exist, and why should I care anyway?
If I might try to exonerate myself, from what I've seen of these rôle related pieces, they have each been associated with either abuse or some some admirable trait (in the person admired or acting in the piece as a rôle to be copied). Individually, they are singular issues with no context. Put them together as "O'Brien" just has, and there you have it. A self-purging that has lead to a letting go of negativities which commingles exemplarily with a positive and open outlook.
So need any of it have been published - and wouldn't reading oneself back have done the trick? Well, yes and no. For the outgoing creative, it is perhaps like someone in the next seat on the bus pouring their heart out. Perhaps we need a fleet of psycho-buses touring the working-class streets? "Fity quid? Am only gunner 'igh street" Move along inside please, there's more...
The poem at the end (didn't it figure in some item you performed at Fox Gallery?) sums up really. At least the negatives - how uncomfortable the issue of that person wishing they'd had a child and imagining how they'd be. Ooh, writhe.
We should perhaps beware of the pejoritive stereotype, and indeed the pejoritive genotype (wow, new media studies term!). Not all gaberdeen-cloaked gents are Victorianised oddities who's model child rôle is hammered into hundreds of school interns, be that bent, altruistic, whatever. Older minds might see that they wish only to exude authority in order to maintain order, as my experience of school felt more like a street in Northern Ireland in the 70s. Student wise that is. On the other hand (but not in it), one or two teachers were heart on sleeve kind. With my sort of temperament, that worked. Alas real life sends hoards of mad hateful unruly gobshytes vomiting, fighting, swearing and cajoling until they depart, still not knowing what the word 'diploma' means.
Beyond this, I note with amusement and some self-realisation the points re being like your dad. I have one or two mannerisms. But in appearance, I throw back to my great garandad George - thinner of structure, except he had more hair. As did mum, whom I more closely resemble, in feature and temprament. Thusly artistic, sentimental - I choke watching strictly or the Waltons. Yet, like mum I've been through the wars - but shrug it off. I don't make it part of my iron will (hahahahaha).
Whilst I have been busy sabotaging my own musical career, Mike has unsold his writing at many levels. Funny how a lack of self-worth seems to breed apologetic hopelessness or something like that. By comparison, I've just begun read a musician's biog, Dave Grohl. He had some moral fibre examplified in by his mum, but interestingly no religion. How I envy 'godless' kids. No checks or imbalances keeping them inferior. No "how dare you speak to me like that?" superiors. I do wish for my time again. From about day two I'd have the presence of mind to say "f@ck you" with attitude. And I'd absolve myself of this livelong victim behavioural loathing of bullies. First one to try it, SMACK and I wouldn't stop punching the bastard until they dragged me off.
Because, in closing, we learn to oppres ourselves after a time. We avoid that street, part of school, person. We daren't flaunt our opinion regardless of how it often turns out correct - for fear of being reprimanded and made to look stupid because we're always wrong. Perhaps my fav keybash is bullybashing? Certainly gives yer summat ter think abaht...
I bought this book, and it's brilliant.
I'm surprised that you still have some left. I'd recommend it to anyone.