Just posted my comment on the other thread. Would you like me to repost it here, Sophie?

Oh phoo, here it is on the thread with its clone (meme?) on the other thread.

Flipping Big Question -- I think the whole chat room ethos could poison genuine personal communication. I guess the internet needs us to give it the commanding power it needs to be what it has the potential to be (if that makes sense), the way the Romans only remained in power as long as their roads allowed communication to pass freely from the hub to the territories. Once 'communication' breaks down then whatever the 'communication' supported (held together and gave shape to and empowered) is fractured. Soon, we may only have the world wide web as our 'family' since the world outside will have been stalled by lack of direct contact and by incoherence.

Oh anon was me by the way.

I like phoo poo and all variations and believe it's great to begin all communicatons with such an expressive sound poem!

I still think we're maybe at the point on the www/net that it's like an epistolary novel. I guess it's all down to whether all communication (Baudrillard is always a mischievous muck stirrer) has value since at least there is contact. And can we ever be other than we are? Okay, we can pretend, but that just means we're writing fiction. And fiction communicates something true about the human condition.

Or maybe we are starting to 'hear' the silent majorities --as Baudrillard describes them, 'The whole chaotic constellation of the social revolves around that spongy referent, that opaque but equally translucent reality, that nothingness: the masses. A statistical crystal ball, the masses are 'swirling with currents and flows,'in the image of matter and the natural elements. So at least they are represented to us.' trans. Paul Foss, John Johnston & Paul Patton.

Maybe the net is the silent majority having discovered its voice?

Philip Pullman has cyberspace as Schaupenhaurian Space.

I especially like The Guillemots.

Hello Cayn, get your invasion steel-toe-capped wellies ready and your emergency biscuits!

can't post a thread with any length on here! Help!

Thanks KP -- this is what I tried to post last night -- oh how roughly I was rebuffed!

No -- it still won't let me post up a decent size paragraph. I can get a couple of lines but no more. What is happening to me?!

But isn't the 'silent majority' founded on 'ease'? The most comfortable option is to remain opinionated but not have to own up to those opinions or face the consequence of a belief system, reassured by the fact that most people are of your ilk.
Funny if the net coaxed a voice out of 'em.
The voice it coaxed would be elusive. Well, transitory.
The voices we coax out of the net are all elusive.
Or maybe it's Marxist 'alienation' -- no longer something caused by being a wage slave, but an entrapment prompted by boredom and the enticements of escapism.

I'm working at Blackpool Theatre of Variety on Monday and Tuesday, and I'm doing an odd all-day poetry thing today so I wish you all a marvellous weekend and I shall see you all next Wednesday.

If a chat room works, great, but expand, knock through; more people to listen
For me writing has given me a bridge of words to command, maybe glisten
If you’re reading my work now, I thank you; please think; whether aged 1 or 90,
Use your first tongue, enable me to I’ll listen to you; a bridge of words is mighty

I see WOL as one big dys'fun'ctional family.
I like what you said Phil, Here here Cayn we should all stand up for inclusion Peter might lend you his space ship if you ask him nicely - so you can invade Mars Attacks style and warm up the big chill, Sophie I love what you said about Karma - I think we are just all treading water and Moxy you are always inspiring.

It's amazing being part of this group and belonging to such a wonderfully, diverse and philosophical and intelligent community (please ignore spello's I'm hung over and a rubbish speller to boot)

One of my friends performed at The Big Chill, so I suppose it was an invasion of sorts!

Hello. I baked the first totally spherical sweet biscuit today. Then I sealed it in wax as if it were a cheese. The problem, Cayn, is that it is too big to get past the rim of a mug or cup. In a French style coffee bowl it merely floats on the surface because of the wax. I have created an anomaly. It is, Maggie, a biscuit for the dysfunctional.

It is poetry flavoured and poetry odorant, of course, its cohesion when masticated is surprisingly high. When eaten in the absence of oxygen, it will sustain life. Astronauts and divers will benefit although they will wax lyrical about their experiences which may scupper the scientific verity they were supposed to provide. Oh oh the hydrophobic phases of the cell membranes! Ho ho. Popeye is a Michelin multi-star chef in these here parts. As is Dangerous Dan. Goodnight.

And hello again, Pete, hello Phil! I have been experimenting with my rear nasal fossae.

A biscuit that doesn't dunk?!? Oh the humanity!!!

Hi guys,
Thank you Moxy, I've never been called a biscuit before, not sure what it says about my hips the fact that I can't get pass the rim of the cup.boohoo
But I like the idea of giving much needed air to wet suited divers especially if they'll keep their flippers on for me.
Please can I be a round pink wafer or better still a loveheart shaped chocky biccy. mmm

Much love to everyone.

xxxx

Yes it is true the chat room of that dark empty place
It reminds me of the isolation we occasionally face
As a P’Der I have been there, all lost and confused
So write a poem about you feelings being refused

When I feel like a small voice in a big male voice choir
I stamp on their toes and make them sing higher
Then my voice shines forth all deep and low
Then they will have to listen to enjoy the show

Control is the big thing for Parkinson's sufferers
It’s how people react that our feelings it renders
I find in my poetry the world is at my command
So write some yourself, help, me, give me a hand

There is always room to chat and room to listen
Read my words being pushed out by a huge piston
We may never meet in person as I'm from Blighty
Email me by return, for a 'word' bridge is mighty

© Phil Golding 26th February 2007