Sorry for the Extended Boiler-Plate

"eBay adds their own blurbs to book conditions (the pop-up balloons with
Acceptable, Good, Very Good, Like New, and Brand New). The balloon with
Very Good erringly states, 'This book has been read but is in excellent
condition'. This is eBay's mistake, not the Seller's. The balloon should
state, 'This book has been read and is in very good condition'. As this
is eBay's mistake, we will not be held responsible any longer for their
mistake. Everybody is raising their fees: eBay; USPS; UPS; etc. With
that said, we can no longer offer Free Domestic Shipping. We are now
dividing half the cost of Postage between ourselves, and our Buyer(s).
Every item that we sell is in our inventory and ready to ship. We are
not a ‘Brokerage House’, which takes an order, then scampers around
looking for the item to fill that order. This helps us to ship our items
in a timely manner, which our buyers appreciate (just look at our
Feedback!). With some books, we receive so many messages asking for a
book’s particulars—which have been pre-answered in the book’s
listing—that we can’t answer the messages. With that said, if a listing
doesn’t say 1st Edition, then it isn’t a 1st Edition. Not every
publisher puts the term ‘First Edition’ on the copyright page of a First
Edition. First Editions are also known by the price on the dust jacket,
and/or the number line found on the copyright page. This info can easily
be corroborated by logging into Amazon.com and viewing a book’s
copyright page (if Amazon.com doesn’t have said info, that is not our
fault). The (supposed) delivery times that eBay is placing with
purchases are only approximations. Delivery times will vary due to where
the item is shipping from and, where the item is headed. Please
understand, the estimations for delivery time(s) are eBay’s doing, not
ours. When we scan a book, we begin at the front, and progress through
the book, until we have scanned the rear cover. We try to show all the
'issues' a book has (tears/price-clipping on a DJ, etc.). If there are
issues on the top/bottom/front of pages, we scan those too. If a
Hardcover is scanned showing the spine/front board, this means said
Hardcover HAS NO DJ. Some of the books we sell are LIBRARY EDITION
HARDCOVERS (also called REBOUND, KATER-BOUND, ECONO-CLAD,
COVER-CRAFT or  PERMA-BOUND). These are paperback books which have been
bound in a hardcover. We try to be very careful and thorough when we list our
books. We list our books using eBay’s catalog (which contains about 65%
of what we sell). EBay’s catalog listings don’t allow entering info such
as: if a book is a Book Club Edition [BCE] or, an ex-library book
[XLB]—which can contain stamps (in the book, on the top/bottom of the
pages), stickers, a pocket, glue spots, tape on the boards, writing
within, etc.; If a book is a First Edition, is signed, has
illustrations, etc., that will be listed; if a DJ is price-clipped, that
will be listed; if the book is not a first printing, that will be listed
or shown through a scan of the Copyright Page. If there are issue(s)
with the cover/DJ, we will show scans of said issue(s). On some
books—with dust jackets—‘invisible’ tape repairs have been needed to the
inside of the dust jacket. Sometimes—luckily, not often—the eBay catalog
isn’t the most helpful when putting items on for sale. In those
instances, what is in said catalog isn’t an exact fit for the book being
sold (i.e., the ISBN comes up as a Hardcover when in actuality it’s for
a Trade Paperback, or, vice versa; the cover which appears with the ISBN
isn’t the actual cover of the book; etc.). When that happens, we will
note the disparity (usually as an ad-in description). Book Conditions
are my estimation, as a twenty–year buyer/seller. Yours might differ. If
you are unhappy with a book you have received, please send us a message,
and we’ll work together to remedy the situation. We have had many people
ask why we require purchase(s) to be paid for immediately. This is
solely because, if we allow people to not pay immediately, we wind up
with several unpaid items every week. This consequently removes said
item from circulation, for ten days (five days to wait for payment, then
five days for eBay to try and get the fraudulent buyer to pay). After
ten days, we can then re-list said unpaid-for item. We’re just a small,
sole-proprietor-ship, and can’t let our inventory sit unsold for that
long. Returns are an aspect of doing retail business. We realize this,
and further state that we are simple human beings, who are prone to make
mistakes. If we make a mistake, we have a 100% return policy. If this
happens, and it is our fault, we will refund your money to you once we
receive the item back. We will refund your postal expense to ship the
item back to us, once we receive the item back (if the cause for a
return is our fault). What we will not do is send a pre-paid envelope to
you to cover the return postage or, issue a refund before we receive the
problem item back. The reasons for this are simple: 1), our items are
priced such that we make a fraction of what the buyer’s expense is and
to send an envelope with a pre-paid envelope inside means that we have
now expended more than the item is worth; and, 2), most times we never
receive the item, which should be returned. This is an unwavering policy
for us. If this is not something you—the buyer—are comfortable with,
please feel free to shop elsewhere. Sorry for the extended boiler-plate.
A handful of problem buyers has made the above a necessity."
- posted by cjb @ 4:50 PM

 

Meek's Cutoff. USA 2010. Dir: Kelly Reichart. 104 min. 35mm

CHRISTOPHER BRAYSHAW

INTRODUCED BY THE PHOTOGRAPHER / Kelly Reichart's Old Joy (2006) and Wendy and Lucy (2008) are set in the present day Pacific Northwest and powerfully evoke the class- and environmentally- based divides animating the art of figures as otherwise disparate as novelist Don Carpenter, photographer Robert Adams, and poet Richard Hugo.  This long, slow historical film's depictions of the empty landscapes of Oregon's Malheur National Wildlife Refuge and Warm Springs Reservoir feature as prominently as any character, and have lingered with me.  Reichart's theme is the alienation of her laboring settler subjects in space and time. Hopelessly lost, they cross and recross the same stretch of interior desert. Sympathetic viewers quickly grasp the characters' rootlessness in a place they cannot "read," a space beyond language where all metanarratives -- Christianity; capital; Manifest Destiny -- have broken down.  Filmed on a microbudget in southeastern Oregon, in places even I have found hard to visit first hand. (CJB)

Christopher Brayshaw is a Vancouver-based writer and photographer
- posted by cjb @ 11:09 PM

 

The Stranger's Charles Mudede likens internet trolling to "a hamburger yelling at you."
- posted by cjb @ 10:06 PM

 

- posted by cjb @ 10:15 PM

 

"[O]ne of the constants of what has become known as 'the Abbotsford shuffle' is that you get evicted from -- well, even that particular parking lot. Roy has been evicted from one corner of the parking lot to the other corner of the parking lot to the other corner of the parking lot to the other corner."

Chief Justice Hinkson: "[T]o assert that homelessness is a choice ignores realities such as poverty, low income, lack of work opportunities, the decline in public assistance, the structure and administration of government support, the lack of affordable housing, addiction disorders, and mental illness. I accept that drug and alcohol addictions are health issues as much as physical and other mental illnesses. Nearly all of the formerly homeless witnesses called by DWS gave evidence relating to some combination of financial desperation, drug addiction, mental illness, physical disability, institutional trauma and distrust, physical or emotional abuse and family breakdown which led, at least in part, [to] the witness becoming homeless."
- posted by cjb @ 8:40 PM

 

JW, Approach, 2014

The most interesting picture in the new show is the completely batshit Changing Room, 2015, which looks for all the world like one of Jack Shadbolt's early 1980s Max Ernst-meets-Vogue collages, which I couldn't emulate if I tried.  Mask maker, below, and Approach are photographs I feel closer to, both for their complexly canted spatial construction & the posing of their figures, which echoes certain premodern figures like Gauguin (above), and Picasso's blue-period harlequins (below).  The dog- or cat- dish placed on cardboard is a nice touch; it signifies the animal owner's recognition that any companion animal's food bowl is a de facto rocket launch.  Listener's Fight Club-style bro energy & swoopy perspective doesn't work for me, with the exception of  the guy on the far right's hands and shoes, which I think I've seen before in Woman and Her Doctor (1980-1) and a century prior in Manet's In The Conservatory (1879).

Opinions and judgments my own; these are working notes in a (public) scrapbook, not "reviewing."
- posted by cjb @ 2:46 PM

 

JW, Mask maker, 2015
- posted by cjb @ 10:22 PM

 
The Most Unforgettable Night Of Whatever

Teenie's Blues
The Freaky Intro from the Boxset

Special Guest: Denny Dias

Bodhisattva
Black Cow
Aja
Hey Nineteen + Walter's Rap
Black Friday
Pearl of the Quarter
Show Biz Kids
Babylon Sisters
Godwhacker
Green Earrings
Daddy Don't Live in That New York City No More
Gaucho
Joe Tex (Band Intros)
Josie
Peg
My Old School
Reelin' in the Years

Encore:

Kid Charlemagne
- posted by cjb @ 10:05 AM

 

Madly
by Christopher Brayshaw

In memoriam
Peter Culley, 1958-2015

not even in Sirkean
consolation of objects (PC)

my life held precariously
in the seeing hands of others (Frank O'Hara)

Active browser
window: Pete seated
at a local hippie poet's
mother's kitchen table.
'Conversation' between
the 3 of them, simulated
for the camera, ostensible
critique of a poem Mom
wrote, actually a
monologue by her sharp-
faced son, who fills each
second of screen time
restlessly with talk.

Pete seldom speaks
but mumbles, slump-
shouldered, head
down, face hidden
by his ball cap's
wide white brim.
& when the older,
better-known poet
leans across & swats
the cap away, the startled
face exposed there's
younger than the one
I thought I knew.

Soft, round chin.
Curly dark hair --
theatrically patting it
back into place. Thick
lips whose corners
telegraph his feelings.
Skutz of scouring-pad
beard.  Big 1980s glasses
constant over decades,
an extraneous, protective
gesture, like cling
wrap stretched across
last night's casserole
in its plastic dish
in the fridge.

& his familiar voice --
deliberate; soft-spoken;
its Soundcloud histogram
open in window #2 --
a low-watt late night FM
DJ's.  Gerry Todd's
younger boho brother.

Audience of dozens
this Thursday, 5 a.m.:
insomniac grandma
awake on living room
couch by rubber tree
& wooden stereo --
cabbie deadheading
down 19 from Lantzville --
hangarounds trimming
bud in buzzing Area A
shed -- all absorbing
Funkentelechny, Judee
Sill, Theo Parrish &
Barry Gibb's "In the
Morning," only sung by
Jennifer Warnes! Next up,
Boots Riley's Coup, &
he ambles down the hall,
lights up just past
the parking lot fire door.
White pre-dawn sky. Birds
lively in the trees.

Back in the booth
line 2 blinking -- AM DJ's
late.  32 minutes to fill.
Takes down the double
album's purple sleeve --
Miles' catlike eyes wide
behind huge hexagonal
shades -- cues the first cut's
quavering organ tones.

Cymbal taps & Cosey's
steel guitar: light rain
along the fence at Morden
colliery.  The former "pride
of industry" defunct,
admired now by Prius
mom 'n dad, up island
for a weekend. Scarce
profit.  At least one
strike each year, put down
by barged-in constables.
They moved the town by rail,
dud cordwood cheques
stacked in the paymaster's crib
& these Goretex assholes
want to preserve it, like
braid garlic nailed
to the wall?

Things naturally fall apart.

After spring storms, Players
butts, maple helicopters,
pulpy chunk gyproc &
a blackbird's chewed-off wing
gather at the base
of Scotchtown Road hill.
Primitive accumulation.
Putting things together,
not aesthetic choice,
but index.

-That sounds like a lot of work!

Smart poets pursue a
"poetics of leisure" (Paul
Nelson).  Or "pleasure"
(Rolf Maurer). Or arrive
in town already wounded,
their knees worn out
on the civic mat. Even that
Adanac apartment's.
"In BC you could get
away from the state
by walking uphill
barefoot for 10 min."
or an hour and a half
on the Queen of Coquitlam,
grey city shrinking
like Deltaport lights,
a floating psychic equilibrium
reestablished by distance.

Perpetually on the edge
of the polis' frame
proud skink or pufferfish
who falls in & out
with everyone, returns
reports of the island's
mirror-world to those
still caught in the city's
flapping jaws, slow cadence
of clashing teeth
the tap  tap  tap
of Foster's drum, or
sneakered E&N crosstie
footfall.

Walking from Beck Lake
to Harewood. Circling
Buttertubs Marsh.
Accompanied by Shasta,
brindle catahoula, "Best
Of" Used Nanaimo
by a country mile.

& what's seen there,
on those walks: not Flickr's
sheet of slides, but
direct-to-disc download,
an inscribing needle
on a spinning silver platter.
Sharpie titled & stacked
on a spindle, like
the homebrew CD-Rs
distributed at the wake.
Chick Corea, Lil' Wayne,
Andy Pratt, Dionne
Warwick, Sandy Denny:
pieces of the past,
circular salmon dispersing
upstream through the
pools under the rail
bridge & yodelling
Bungy Zone.

OS 2.0, a world
reinstalled from pictures.
Nanaimo c. 2006,
where condos haven't yet
sprung up like teeth
scattered on the ground,
an occupying orc army
frowning down on
the Newcastle ferry,
or an advancing wave
of fecal-colored froth,
yeast proofing in a jar,
the sour pulpy stench
of capital's pandesal.

A place where
a human in distress
could receive as
much attention
as an off-leash dog, or
a tiny, sad, furious
African man playing
a muted silver trumpet
low & slow in mourning
beside the statue of Frank
Ney, developer mayor,
in pirate drag.

In Hammertown's end,
the city's upscaling &
abandonment of its poor.

Like you wouldn't treat a dog.

Alternatives really
only ever visible
afterwards, as loss.

Columbia Studio B,
19 June 1974, where no
orchestra played & yet
is heard, clearly,
in the recording, in
the echoing space
above Miles' trumpet
& Harmon mute,
as if his love for Duke
could call him back,
or some semblance of him
back, like Spicer's
spook radio voices.

I listened for you, Peter,
heard only static:

an old vinyl record
in an empty DJ booth,
needle turning uselessly
in the innermost groove;

your faulty heart,
the slowing ebb of blood
at night, at home
Daph  Shasta  porchfish
everyone settling in there;

in a last still photograph
I didn't take but made
up now among these
other desktop things:

Late May north of Cassidy,
a scrappy garry oak
meadow already platted,
levelled & cleared, today,
by ridiculous cartoon toys.
A Finning yellow excavator
labors mightily in a field, cab
swinging round. Through
cracked plexiglass the
operator beholds the
flapping stakes outlining
the new limited-access road.
Trucks idling, the work crew's
silver pickups glinting in the
sun, cab radios playing
the last few notes
of a long, slow, ambient song
segueing now into
clattering electric funk.
Just outside the frame
a watcher halts to notice,
winds up, lets the dog's
ball chucker fly,
walks on. Late spring,
bright warm white sky,
everything moving along.


April - October 2015
Vancouver
- posted by cjb @ 5:50 PM

 
ACT (Aesthetically Claimed Thing): Peter Watts, "The Island"

On a par with PW's Blindsight, which is to say, exemplary.
- posted by cjb @ 8:18 AM

 
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- posted by cjb @ 11:34 PM

 

Peter Culley, self-portrait, 2015
- posted by cjb @ 10:14 PM