The White Peril 白禍

Getting about time for spring poems to be appropriate again. The Vernal Equinox is still a while off, but not spring according to the traditional lunar calendar. I posted one of my favorites when I first began this blog:

岩間とぢし氷も今朝はとけそめて苔の下水みちもとむらむ

西行法師

Iwama todjishi / koori mo kesa ha / tokesomete / Koke no shita mizu / michi motomuramu

Saigyou-houshi

Even the ice that shackles the rocks has begun to melt this morning--the water under the moss will be seeking a pathway.

the Priest Saigyo

The Japanese are very big on what you might call "the moment before." As in, the cherry trees are considered most poignantly beautiful immediately before they bloom--when you can see the buds straining to burst open. What Saigyo describes above isn't the return of spring, exactly--it's that moment when you get a sense that something is stirring under the remaining cover of winter.

Of course, the Japanese can also poeticize the moment after. Another of my favorite poets, Yosano Akiko, included this among the first poems in her most famous collection:

ゆあみして泉を出でしわがはだにふるるはつらき人の世のきぬ

与謝野晶子

Yu-ami shite / izumi wo ideshi / Waga hada ni / fururu ha tsuraki / hito no yo no kinu

Yosano Akiko

Finishing my bath
and emerging from the spring,
I could hardly bear
their chafing against my skin,
the silks of the world of man

Yosano Akiko

I have a vague memory that the きぬ may have been glossed, in an old annotated version I read years ago, as just meaning "robe," but if Akiko isn't going to use kanji, then I'm going to assume she means "silk," which in any case intensifies the heightened, raw sensitivity she feels. My guess is that the poem is from, if not now, some time in the winter, because that's when you get out of an open-air hot spring and think, Man, it's cold! Well, if you're not a poet, like me. If you're a poet, like Akiko, you think in tanka.

The new Madonna video is out.

Enh.

The Kylie hair is pretty flattering, actually. But it's Kylie hair. That's not a slam on Kylie (who didn't really invent it herself, anyway). We love Kylie. But Madonna is not Kylie. Sure, she's done revivals and rip-offs before, but she always seemed to be enjoying herself, and they served some kind of expressive point. Remaking the "Fever" video minus the metallic body paint? No point to that that I can see. And kind of grim actually.

Oh, and speaking of which--one more thing.

Mads? Listening? Here it is:

UNCLENCH.

YOUR.

JAW.

Seriously, it can't be just whatever your aesthetic-body-maintenance people are doing, unless they've gone and wired your mouth shut. Part of it's age, probably, but most of it is clearly posture and attitude. Your lips no longer look pliant and inviting, so your trademark brazen stare has no tease to it. It just looks scary. I mean, scary-scary, not thrilling-scary.

Seriously, have you relaxed a single muscle--at all, ever--since the obstetrician dilated you so you could pass that last kid? Girlfriend, you have enough money to finance ten Methuselah-length lifetimes. You've been the most famous woman on the planet for the better part of two decades. Rock critics capitulated to you as far back as Like a Prayer. Contemporary music videos, for both better and worse, would be inconceivable without you. You used to be an overachiever because you had a million ideas; now you work hard to make videos for disco songs that show people, you know, dancing around. A real flight of imagination, that.

Let's just hope you come up with something better for "Jump," which is supposed to be the third single, yeah? It's the best song on the album and doesn't deserve the see-me-do-Dance-Dance-Revolution-with-a-bunch-of-teenagers treatment.

Like most very fascinating people, Oriana Fallaci can be infuriating; but she's been decrying Islamofascism for years. (She's the journalist who, during an audience with Khomeini, yanked off the hood of her chador and called it a "filthy medieval rag.") And it says something that there's an Italian curator who thinks that this is a meaningful piece of art to offer audiences.

One doesn't want art to be making pat points that can be summarized in a single sentence--for that, you can just, like, write a single sentence--but a certain coherence, even if it's at the dream level, would be nice. Does Fallaci symbolize American decadence because she now lives in New York? Does the painter think she's done things to deserve beheading? Or are we just being [yawn] transgressive again, throwing grapeshot around and hoping that some of it strikes a target that people will find worth talking about? What Fallaci's fierce, knowing gaze--which the artist has at least depicted with a simple immediacy that shows he's not an empty set technically--has to do with weakness and perversity, I'm afraid I cannot imagine. Of course, it's redundant to point out that Americans are not being given instructions to demonstrate outside the nearest Italian diplomatic building (unless my latest e-mail from the US embassy has been held up--you know, watch it when traveling, no update on threats of terrorism in Japan, don't forget to do your taxes, here's how to renew your passport by mail, bring Italian flags to Mita for burning on Sunday).

Madonna, darling, you really need to listen to Heather at Go Fug Yourself. She's only looking after your best interests.

I mean, I gotta hand it to you--photo comparisons show you've had work done, but you clearly haven't had your eyebrows jerked up two inches or gotten your doctor to immobilize your entire face with botox or collagened your lips to dirigible proportions. Good on you for that.

But from the looks of things, that bod of yours has the same fat content as a Snackwells cookie. It's just about as appetizing, too. Middle-aged beauty just isn't the same as 20s beauty, and you (and quite a few of your gay fans around your age) really could stand to remember that every now and then. Guys in their late 40s who want to maintain the granite six-pack they've had for the last two decades can often do it with martial discipline and a little lipo; but the grain of their skin is different, and it no longer hugs their muscles the same way. When they relax into being a little fleshier and more substantive, middle-aged guys stay yummy and touchable-looking. When they avoid adipose cells like the Plague, they look as if they'd starved themselves to vanishing point and been reupholstered in easy-care vinyl. It's depressing to see.

Oops, imagine that. I got derailed into talking about male sexiness. Anyway, back to the issue at hand: Madge, that last video proved to us that you can still fold yourself up like a contortionist and dance around frantically without losing your breath. The point is made. You've impressed your fans once again. Now, if you actually want to make us happy, you might consider going back to making videos that are actually beautiful to look at. Maybe you could come up with a few ideas if you took a day off from the gym and kicked back a little.

Great news: Kylie is in remission. (Via Ghost of a Flea, as if you had to ask)