The immense support that Vagabond has shown to new and established poets alike through their Rare Objects Series is without competition, and with the series soon winding up at #100, it presents an impressive and elegant tribute to the poetic spirit rather than the publishing market, the poet and reader rather than the profit margin.
Recently I resubscribed to the New Yorker, that bastion of journalism and commentary so often lauded by us literary types. I had a subscription about five years ago that I let lapse after a year. Finding myself with a lot more time to read, it made sense to reacquaint myself with the magazine.
Being a typical inner-city type, I went to the Wheeler Centre’s Festival of Dangerous Ideas (a wonderful echo chamber) in Melbourne to see the creator of The Wire, David Simon speak. The show is one of the finest critiques of modern capitalism that I have seen on a screen in sometime, so I was expecting some of those same incendiary notions to be raised by Simon himself. What we instead got was the typical, liberal response to the failures of capitalism.
Critical of himself, and his own practise of indulging in nostalgia, Assayas, with his Après Mai (After May), removes responsibility from the viewer, and the result is the most guiltless, blissful and problematic viewing experience I’ve had, twice, this year.
Politicians invariably attribute their most reactionary idiocies to the population. They are, they say, merely reflecting the electorate’s wishes. But the most recent elections revealed little positive enthusiasm for the conservative program. A survey immediately after the poll showed that respondents expected the new government to make matters worse rather than better on job security, workers’ rights, the environment, public services and welfare.