Robert R. Mitchell's Blog, page 12
May 6, 2013
thank you!
At any moment, the eBook version of my novel Only Shot At A Good Tombstone will revert to the standard $1.99 price. A big THANK YOU to all the folks in the U.S., Canada, the U.K. and Germany who gave it a shot! If you enjoy it, please take a moment to rate it and leave a comment on Amazon.com and of course Goodreads! Thanks again! Much appreciated!
Review of On the Road by Jack Kerouac (spoiler alert)
On the Road by Jack KerouacMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Review of On the Road by Jack Kerouac (spoiler alert)
Holy hell on wheels, Dean Moriarty. Frantic, ecstatic, twitching, gasping, yelling, red-eyed, good-for-nothing, beatnik John the Baptist. Who the hell are you preparing a way for? In the end, Sal Paradise, the true Bodhidharma with more than Dean’s two seconds of attention span: someone who digs existence long-term and delivers his charges to the Promised Land before entering himself. I realized rereading On the Road that in the intervening years, I subconsciously inserted constant unflinching Benzedrine use into every other memory; in part because of Kerouac’s real life use discussed in the Introduction and in part to explain even an infinitesimal fraction of Moriarty’s spastic kicks-grabbing, epiphanic, “Whooo-eeee” “IT”-jonesing, orgasmic hilarity. Aside from Sal, the heroes are America, Mexico, the earth, human beings and existence. When on the road, Sal is a new Beat version of a Steinbeck hero down to the dusty Okies with whom he picks cotton. Long-suffering, indomitable Sal abandoned delirious with dysentery in Mexico City by the exploding angel he follows to catch burning, falling, fizzling sparks of truth before they burn out. Now that I’ve finished, I’ve resolved to do two things: reread The Dharma Bums, the Subterraneans and Big Sur, to prove to myself that there is indeed Zen in Kerouac; and to listen to the jazz artists whom Sal and Dean dig so righteously everywhere they can be found.
View all my reviews
May 5, 2013
Give it a shot!
Free eBook version of Only Shot At A Good Tombstone available on Amazon.com today and tomorrow! Tell your family and friends to give it a shot!
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Free eBook!
The eBook version of Only Shot At A Good Tombstone is free today and tomorrow! Head over to Amazon.com and Give it a shot!
May 4, 2013
No muss, no fuss
Come get your perforated “Easy Tear” life
With re-sealable edges that are even and straight
Convenience and value and you don’t need a knife
Just rip ‘er on open above the “Best By” date.
Hold up the product with a stark white smile
Yeah those are fangs and they don’t retract
Pull up a chair and stay for a while
And please sign this non-aggression pact.
Luxury and comfort, no soul required
Stretch out your legs and enjoy the breeze
From the human fans that we just hired
Life is about entertainment and ease.
***
Oh here comes someone who don’t fit the bill
Their edges ain’t straight and they’re kind of curvy
Obviously from the valley, don’t belong on the hill
I suspect their motives are a little blurry.
Hold on there, you ain’t coming in here
Nothing personal but you lack self-esteem
We’re playing ping pong and drinking free beer
Just walk on by before I make you a meme.
You’re not a member of this exclusive club
Your identification does more harm than good
Keep on walking with your bus pass stub
Down across the tracks, you’ll find your hood.
***
Yeah, they’ve gone and passed on by
It was touch and go but I did not yield
Kept on trying to look me square in the eye
But that don’t work when I got my eyes peeled.
You can see them coming a mile away
Anxiety without the money for drugs
We need one hundred percent these days
Don’t need coding that’s full of bugs
It’s all done, let me refill your drink
We make the rules and the rules make us
It’s really easier than you might think
No ring-around-the-collar, no muss, no fuss.
Copyright 2013 Robert R. Mitchell
With re-sealable edges that are even and straight
Convenience and value and you don’t need a knife
Just rip ‘er on open above the “Best By” date.
Hold up the product with a stark white smile
Yeah those are fangs and they don’t retract
Pull up a chair and stay for a while
And please sign this non-aggression pact.
Luxury and comfort, no soul required
Stretch out your legs and enjoy the breeze
From the human fans that we just hired
Life is about entertainment and ease.
***
Oh here comes someone who don’t fit the bill
Their edges ain’t straight and they’re kind of curvy
Obviously from the valley, don’t belong on the hill
I suspect their motives are a little blurry.
Hold on there, you ain’t coming in here
Nothing personal but you lack self-esteem
We’re playing ping pong and drinking free beer
Just walk on by before I make you a meme.
You’re not a member of this exclusive club
Your identification does more harm than good
Keep on walking with your bus pass stub
Down across the tracks, you’ll find your hood.
***
Yeah, they’ve gone and passed on by
It was touch and go but I did not yield
Kept on trying to look me square in the eye
But that don’t work when I got my eyes peeled.
You can see them coming a mile away
Anxiety without the money for drugs
We need one hundred percent these days
Don’t need coding that’s full of bugs
It’s all done, let me refill your drink
We make the rules and the rules make us
It’s really easier than you might think
No ring-around-the-collar, no muss, no fuss.
Copyright 2013 Robert R. Mitchell
May 2, 2013
Northern California camp out on 20 acres beneath the eucalyptus trees, trying to connect with the ghosts of Kerouac and Steinbeck although not sure they met in the afterlife - 1st stanza
Coyote cagey doe crashing
down eucalyptus carpeted
dry, deep, dusty drainages
Down to the organic farm
and its spiritualist bungalow
full of chanting New Agers
Beneath the telephone wire
screech owls, silent in flight
until the scream and the doe
pauses.
Copyright 2013 Robert R. Mitchell
down eucalyptus carpeted
dry, deep, dusty drainages
Down to the organic farm
and its spiritualist bungalow
full of chanting New Agers
Beneath the telephone wire
screech owls, silent in flight
until the scream and the doe
pauses.
Copyright 2013 Robert R. Mitchell
May 1, 2013
May Day in Seattle 2013
Anarchists, cops and news
Pepper spray, camera crews
Broken Walgreens window
Elite Globalization hero?
Bandanas and hair like MacGyver
They preempted my Survivor
Now May Day is no more
Tribal Council has the floor.
Pepper spray, camera crews
Broken Walgreens window
Elite Globalization hero?
Bandanas and hair like MacGyver
They preempted my Survivor
Now May Day is no more
Tribal Council has the floor.
April 28, 2013
Review: One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Alexander Solzhenitsyn.
The words spoken and written about this novel far outnumber the millions of Soviets sentenced to the gulags it describes. It would seem, therefore, that the only possibility of saying something “new” is to describe our own personal reaction to the story. Even then, our words are not “new” in the sense of “groundbreaking,” but merely “new” in the sense of pedestrian uniqueness, much like a fingerprint.
Finishing this work is always a solemn experience for me. I believe it should be read several times in a lifetime because while certain passages or images will linger until we die, the emotional impact of the book as a whole is most significant and life-changing immediately upon completion. Ideally, it should be read in as close to a single sitting as possible, much like the underground hand-typed copies of Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago were read before being passed along to the next hungry reader.
Ivan Denisovich Shukhov’s joyful tally of the good things his day included always leaves me speechless and reverent as if I am visiting the death bed or grave of a great but humble hero who triumphed over unimaginable evil against impossible odds. The fact that Solzhenitsyn writes from experience means that every decision, every rationale, every strategy Ivan employs to survive is meticulously noted, explained and evaluated. Solzhenitsyn’s sparse and explicit prose perfectly conveys the barren Siberian landscape, the brutal weather and the bitter human interactions of the prison camp. While a hero in every sense of the word, Ivan is not perfect, idealistic or selfless. He is a survivor who manages to navigate a hellish, brutal world with his humanity, intellect, self-consciousness, sanity and empathy intact.
Finishing this work is always a solemn experience for me. I believe it should be read several times in a lifetime because while certain passages or images will linger until we die, the emotional impact of the book as a whole is most significant and life-changing immediately upon completion. Ideally, it should be read in as close to a single sitting as possible, much like the underground hand-typed copies of Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago were read before being passed along to the next hungry reader.
Ivan Denisovich Shukhov’s joyful tally of the good things his day included always leaves me speechless and reverent as if I am visiting the death bed or grave of a great but humble hero who triumphed over unimaginable evil against impossible odds. The fact that Solzhenitsyn writes from experience means that every decision, every rationale, every strategy Ivan employs to survive is meticulously noted, explained and evaluated. Solzhenitsyn’s sparse and explicit prose perfectly conveys the barren Siberian landscape, the brutal weather and the bitter human interactions of the prison camp. While a hero in every sense of the word, Ivan is not perfect, idealistic or selfless. He is a survivor who manages to navigate a hellish, brutal world with his humanity, intellect, self-consciousness, sanity and empathy intact.
Currently reading
Rereading "One Day In The Life Of Ivan Denisovich" by Alexander Solzhenitsyn.
