by Anton Martin Smith Antonmartinsmith@gmail.com or martinantonsmith@gmail.com (email me!)
Welcome friends colleagues and ardent enemies.
Let me spin a mighty tale which starts with meandering but ends with Revolutionary consequences.
And yes please drink while you listen – but try not to barf – it will ruin my train of thought.
But if you must please use the wooden buckets provided shackled under your tables.
Let me begin by talking of ‘luck’ – something I’ve heard of but never experienced myself.
Well perhaps I’ve had a little here and there but only by chance.
Why is it that when you have had a stretch of good luck –
And by ‘good luck’ all I mean is that nothing ‘really bad’ has happened for a couple of weeks.
I say this because let’s be honest –
That’s the reality of this urbano-mega-city-techno-prison most of us live in now.
Good luck is now defined negatively.
You didn’t get fired this week;
You didn’t step on some dog-shite this week;.
Your girlfriend didn’t cheat on you on her ‘girls weekend’ this time round.
Et cetera Et Cetera.
I could go on longer – but you are a street-wise audience and you catch my drift.
You see long ago ‘Good Luck’ was defined positively.
You found a twenty dollar note on the ground;
You went to a rock concert, got drunk and got laid all on the same night;
You went to the CD or record store and found a gem in the bargain bin.
I could go on and on –
But again – you fine folk will, like a fine Phoenecian sail – catch my drift.
And how pray-tell did we let this steep decline happen over say thirty years?
Your guess is naturally as good as mine and my blind furtive jabs.
But I’ll hazard a guess for perhaps one of the many multitudes of ghastly reasons –
MONEY PRINTING GONE WILD.
Yes deplorably we schmucks were slowly inflated out of our own lives.
I would say “great now we can revolt and chop some heads off – French Revolution style”.
But they ain’t so stupid to allow that stuff again –
So they became weaselly smart about weakening the masses, us the great unwashed!
They had to drug us up to the eyeballs to numb us,
In pills dished out by an army of quacks,
In our chemically laced food,
They frazelled our nerves too via our environments
Via coraling us our concrete jungles,
And the cubicle-ised our work spaces,
They corrupted the airwaves with their drone faced on-payroll mouthpieces,
They jacked up the price of beer so to close our glorious institutions the bars and hotels!
Of course they jacked up our rent too – that goes without saying.
Yep – They really did a number on us my dear souls.
And sadly as a poor but time rich poet at the arse end of the world –
I don’t have the exact solution.
I would be lying if I pretended I was Sun Tzu, Confucius, Neitschze or Kierkegaard –
But I do feel just a little like Thomas Paine of the American Revolution.
So I sincerely wonder about the following:
Perhaps we need to become more vicious?
That is to ‘fight fire with fire’ – to ‘wage war with war’.
Of course friends and adversaries – I know what you’re now asking me:
‘How do we do this given the fact – as you mentioned – that we have been so ‘beaten down’?
Well – that is indeed a good question.
The answer to that is surely what has always been true throughout of fabled History.
When someone has nothing at all to lose – the real question is this:
Why wouldn’t they revolt?
After all it’s only natural isn’t it?
It is indeed the norm of History in those first hand accounts that are being burnt by the enemy.
Yes – Revolution – even if we’ve been drugged, corralled, lied to and whipped mercilessly.
So despite appearances to the contrary –
As a simple country farmer might say to his weary and confused firstborn.
“There’s nuthin’ new under the sun, son”.
Personally, I will be revolting very soon, very revolting and very soon.
But then again I’m lucky – for my type – a writer and poet – the ‘pen is mightier than the sword’.
For those reading and listening this ‘Historical Yelp’ – I will see you at the victory party,
And naturally I promise to read a more than salubrious ‘victory poem’.
So now there is only one last thing to mention.
Hazaar to the Revolution – which starts tomorrow roughly at four pm!
I know that all of you ‘Soon to be Revolutionaries’ – are all the type to hate early starts.
Which will be perfect planning:
Our early-risers and sworn enemies will have finished their days work by then and are well pooped,
While we will be ‘full of beans’ having not long been out of bed.
Yes, I’m already liking the sound of this ‘Artists and Writers Revolution’.
Now my now half sozzled folks – may I ask you of this minor worry fleeting through my mind?
I am perhaps simply and once again, ‘delving into the realms of fantasy’ again?
No no don’t answer – I will answer myself – I know you will agree anyway!.
Surely I am not delirious – although that would be ‘kinda stock’ of me, wouldn’t it now?.
But no let me gather myself, that was just a minor crisis of confidence – I think this ale is a little off.
But I can’t entirely rule it out my dear soon to be, most likely tomorrow sometime, Revolutionaries!
Oh wait, yes you are right – I’ve been to hasty – we need to take some time on this.
After all we all know the adage ‘only fools rush in’ – we don’t want to be like the ‘Huns in thirty-nine’!
I’m sorry to say this my future valiant soldier-victor-heros…BUT…
Tomorrows ‘Revolution’ is hereby duly postponed!
Just while we figure out if we are..er I mean I am…in a ‘wildly creative but far too delusional dreamscape’,
Or are we indeed being ‘celebrator-ily rational’ in our ‘Revolution-Tomorrow-at-circa Four-PM’ plans.
I ask of you gathered here – is it not wise to do our due diligence?
The only thing worse than being trampled on hostages of our current dictators is to be Failed Revolutionaries!
So yes my future martyrs – we must simply think this Revolution thing over just a smidgen more.
Of course to do this we must stay here in this delightful ale-den & lubricate ourselves further.
So for now fellow would-be-Revolutionaries – relax, laugh, fornicate and be ‘truculently merry’.
And as we do let us all talk together with the cautious somber glee of coming iron-clad battle plans.
And in closing yes – let me quell your worried hearts by saying this:
I’m indubitably sorry for whipping you all up like this,
& I of course naturally apologize for doing this exact same revolutionary speech every single night,
Over and over again ad infinitum, and seemingly without regard for simple human decency.
I promise it won’t happen again….tonight…
But I would be calous liar if I was to pronounce that I will not do the exact same thing tomorrow night.
Now can anyone buy me my next drink? –
I know I don’t need to remind you all that I’m a truth-committed-starving-always-short-of-funds-poet?
Oh thankyou Sir – I wasn’t expecting a delicious fine ale so soon.
How verily kind of you – and that’s my favorite brand – let me read the label to you:
” ‘The Poet’s Daily Drop’ – A Revolutionary Ale?”
Anton Martin Smith Writer 