On Wednesday, February 4, 2009 at 9:45:29 PM UTC-5, Dale Houstman wrote:
> George Dance wrote:
> > Benediction
> >
> > Nothing is changed by the rising sun
> > itself, yet darkness retreats;
> That's a very bad enjambment,

Not only bad, but unnecessary: "itself" serves no purpose apart from that of repetitive filler.

> and a non-intriguing paradox: if "nothing
> is changed" by the rising sun, then how can "darkness retreat" since
> that's a change? This isn't even to mention the utter flat dullness of
> the opening two lines, which are really only informing us that sunrise
> means less darkness. Not exactly a poetic revelation, or even a
> particularly sharp observation. More along the lines of a massively
> stoned dullard noticing they have five fingers on each hand.

"Stoned dullard" does capture the essence of George Dance as a poet.

> > behind me, land skull-white to soon be green,
> Awkward to a fault...
> > before, grey ocean to be vivid aqua,
> These are stunningly dull sub-images, which keep reiterating the obvious
> - that the sunrise (which supposedly changes nothing) adds color to the
> things of darkness. It wasn't actually worth saying once, and you can't
> stop saying it. Extremely boring stuff that, and none of it redeemed by
> a clever bit of language, or a neatly-constructed image...

The grammatically awkward lines remind me of classic Hollywood's depiction of Native American speech. Perhaps the speaker of George's poem is a Cree warrior named "Dances Atop Sheets."

> > all of it now enlightened, all of it
> > particles in random chaos,
> > molecules in rigid stasis,
> From the banal hammering home of a mediocre "idea" to flights of
> moronic "scientific" abstraction. Hideous...

When George says "all of it," he means *all* of it. It must be thrilling for Chief Dances Atop Sheets to experience sunrise on a sub-atomic level.

> > so much from void; my eyes the very same
> > giving it all the beauty,
> > my words the meaning,
> > my hearing all the song. I am
> > the hub, the fixed point,
> > the still point without which there is no dance
> > and there is always the dance,
> > motion and stillness ever entwined,
> > now illuminated. Yet
> Really and truly horrible: an ugly mixture of pretentious mysticism lite
> and the image-less horror of one-dimensional abstraction all tied up in
> the sensation of pure hackney-dom.

And leave us not forget the pun on the author's name. George/Chief Dances Atop Sheets creates whatever meaning this sunrise has. He has elevated subjectivity to the status of Godhood. He is the axis upon which the earth turns; yet he is also without change -- eternal and everlasting.

> > nothing is changed, no, nothing is new
> > but a fresh breeze from the sea; and on the sea
> > another ship charts course, cutting
> > prow through breakers, churning
> > blades amid the foam, curling
> > sheets of white water
> > around the mewing gulls.

> It's really quite empty isn't it? A badly done exercise in "poetic
> contemplation" that is bereft of actual poetry, gutted of human
> observation, and exiled to a black pit of sentimental noodle-work in
> place of writing. A typical posterior production of yours.
> dmh

George's poetry empty because it lacks any semblance of inspiration. He records bland thoughts that arise from bland observations -- most of which have been second-handed from others.

George challenges himself to compose a poem in this, that, or the other form or style -- but the end result is inevitably as hollow and devoid of insight as your typical Hallmark card.

On Friday, March 3, 2023 at 2:42:43 PM UTC, George Dunce wrote:
> On Wednesday, February 4, 2009 at 9:45:29 PM UTC-5, Dale Houstman wrote:
> > George Dance wrote:
> > > Benediction
> > >
> > > Nothing is changed by the rising sun
> > > itself, yet darkness retreats;
> > That's a very bad enjambment,
>
> Not only bad, but unnecessary: "itself" serves no purpose apart from that of repetitive filler.
>
> > and a non-intriguing paradox: if "nothing
> > is changed" by the rising sun, then how can "darkness retreat" since
> > that's a change? This isn't even to mention the utter flat dullness of
> > the opening two lines, which are really only informing us that sunrise
> > means less darkness. Not exactly a poetic revelation, or even a
> > particularly sharp observation. More along the lines of a massively
> > stoned dullard noticing they have five fingers on each hand.
>
> "Stoned dullard" does capture the essence of George Dance as a poet.
> > > behind me, land skull-white to soon be green,
> > Awkward to a fault...
> > > before, grey ocean to be vivid aqua,
> > These are stunningly dull sub-images, which keep reiterating the obvious
> > - that the sunrise (which supposedly changes nothing) adds color to the
> > things of darkness. It wasn't actually worth saying once, and you can't
> > stop saying it. Extremely boring stuff that, and none of it redeemed by
> > a clever bit of language, or a neatly-constructed image...
>
> The grammatically awkward lines remind me of classic Hollywood's depiction of Native American speech. Perhaps the speaker of George's poem is a Cree warrior named "Dances Atop Sheets."
> > > all of it now enlightened, all of it
> > > particles in random chaos,
> > > molecules in rigid stasis,
> > From the banal hammering home of a mediocre "idea" to flights of
> > moronic "scientific" abstraction. Hideous...
>
> When George says "all of it," he means *all* of it. It must be thrilling for Chief Dances Atop Sheets to experience sunrise on a sub-atomic level.
> > > so much from void; my eyes the very same
> > > giving it all the beauty,
> > > my words the meaning,
> > > my hearing all the song. I am
> > > the hub, the fixed point,
> > > the still point without which there is no dance
> > > and there is always the dance,
> > > motion and stillness ever entwined,
> > > now illuminated. Yet
> > Really and truly horrible: an ugly mixture of pretentious mysticism lite
> > and the image-less horror of one-dimensional abstraction all tied up in
> > the sensation of pure hackney-dom.
>
> And leave us not forget the pun on the author's name. George/Chief Dances Atop Sheets creates whatever meaning this sunrise has. He has elevated subjectivity to the status of Godhood. He is the axis upon which the earth turns; yet he is also without change -- eternal and everlasting.
> > > nothing is changed, no, nothing is new
> > > but a fresh breeze from the sea; and on the sea
> > > another ship charts course, cutting
> > > prow through breakers, churning
> > > blades amid the foam, curling
> > > sheets of white water
> > > around the mewing gulls.
> > It's really quite empty isn't it? A badly done exercise in "poetic
> > contemplation" that is bereft of actual poetry, gutted of human
> > observation, and exiled to a black pit of sentimental noodle-work in
> > place of writing. A typical posterior production of yours.
> > dmh
>
> George's poetry empty because it lacks any semblance of inspiration. He records bland thoughts that arise from bland observations -- most of which have been second-handed from others.
>
> George challenges himself to compose a poem in this, that, or the other form or style -- but the end result is inevitably as hollow and devoid of insight as your typical Hallmark card.

We like this statement in the same thread from Dale Houstman: "Of course not - she either pretended to find merit in your work, or she actually was unskilled enough to think that it was merely a slightly flawed poem rather than not a poem at all. So you gravitate toward those who shine the most light on you. Not really a revelation, like your "poem"."

That deftly states what happens with the Dockery and Sulzbach poems.

Also, continuing with Dale Houstman's comments:
"First off - the lie you keep promulgating - that I NEVER offer positive
comments. Simply not the truth - when a person posts a poem which owns
qualities of value - despite the possible failure of the poem as a whole
- AND they seem open to hearing and benefiting from not ONLY the "I like
your poem" comments, I go to great lengths to offer useful advice. You
fail on both accounts again and again: you do not offer up a poem with
any discernible merit, and you respond badly to posts that do not accept
the premise that you are a poet: the "negativity" you notice is actually
your own creation. You show ANY tendency to learn from criticism, and
from your own reading, and to start producing pieces with any value, and
you will hear positive comments from me. Until then, my merely
"pretending" to discover little pearls in your barnacles will do neither
of us any good, and - in fact - would be cynical. I'll leave the
cynicism to you."

That is what happens (then and now) when George Dance (or Dockery or Sulzbach) receive honest criticism of their "poems." They don't learn, they don't improve, they write exactly the same after years of "practice."

On Friday, March 3, 2023 at 10:38:08 AM UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
> On Friday, March 3, 2023 at 2:42:43 PM UTC, George Dunce wrote:
> > On Wednesday, February 4, 2009 at 9:45:29 PM UTC-5, Dale Houstman wrote:
> > > George Dance wrote:
> > > > Benediction
> > > >
> > > > Nothing is changed by the rising sun
> > > > itself, yet darkness retreats;
> > > That's a very bad enjambment,
> >
> > Not only bad, but unnecessary: "itself" serves no purpose apart from that of repetitive filler.
> >
> > > and a non-intriguing paradox: if "nothing
> > > is changed" by the rising sun, then how can "darkness retreat" since
> > > that's a change? This isn't even to mention the utter flat dullness of
> > > the opening two lines, which are really only informing us that sunrise
> > > means less darkness. Not exactly a poetic revelation, or even a
> > > particularly sharp observation. More along the lines of a massively
> > > stoned dullard noticing they have five fingers on each hand.
> >
> > "Stoned dullard" does capture the essence of George Dance as a poet.
> > > > behind me, land skull-white to soon be green,
> > > Awkward to a fault...
> > > > before, grey ocean to be vivid aqua,
> > > These are stunningly dull sub-images, which keep reiterating the obvious
> > > - that the sunrise (which supposedly changes nothing) adds color to the
> > > things of darkness. It wasn't actually worth saying once, and you can't
> > > stop saying it. Extremely boring stuff that, and none of it redeemed by
> > > a clever bit of language, or a neatly-constructed image...
> >
> > The grammatically awkward lines remind me of classic Hollywood's depiction of Native American speech. Perhaps the speaker of George's poem is a Cree warrior named "Dances Atop Sheets."
> > > > all of it now enlightened, all of it
> > > > particles in random chaos,
> > > > molecules in rigid stasis,
> > > From the banal hammering home of a mediocre "idea" to flights of
> > > moronic "scientific" abstraction. Hideous...
> >
> > When George says "all of it," he means *all* of it. It must be thrilling for Chief Dances Atop Sheets to experience sunrise on a sub-atomic level.
> > > > so much from void; my eyes the very same
> > > > giving it all the beauty,
> > > > my words the meaning,
> > > > my hearing all the song. I am
> > > > the hub, the fixed point,
> > > > the still point without which there is no dance
> > > > and there is always the dance,
> > > > motion and stillness ever entwined,
> > > > now illuminated. Yet
> > > Really and truly horrible: an ugly mixture of pretentious mysticism lite
> > > and the image-less horror of one-dimensional abstraction all tied up in
> > > the sensation of pure hackney-dom.
> >
> > And leave us not forget the pun on the author's name. George/Chief Dances Atop Sheets creates whatever meaning this sunrise has. He has elevated subjectivity to the status of Godhood. He is the axis upon which the earth turns; yet he is also without change -- eternal and everlasting.
> > > > nothing is changed, no, nothing is new
> > > > but a fresh breeze from the sea; and on the sea
> > > > another ship charts course, cutting
> > > > prow through breakers, churning
> > > > blades amid the foam, curling
> > > > sheets of white water
> > > > around the mewing gulls.
> > > It's really quite empty isn't it? A badly done exercise in "poetic
> > > contemplation" that is bereft of actual poetry, gutted of human
> > > observation, and exiled to a black pit of sentimental noodle-work in
> > > place of writing. A typical posterior production of yours.
> > > dmh
> >
> > George's poetry empty because it lacks any semblance of inspiration. He records bland thoughts that arise from bland observations -- most of which have been second-handed from others.
> >
> > George challenges himself to compose a poem in this, that, or the other form or style -- but the end result is inevitably as hollow and devoid of insight as your typical Hallmark card.
> We like this statement in the same thread from Dale Houstman: "Of course not - she either pretended to find merit in your work, or she actually was unskilled enough to think that it was merely a slightly flawed poem rather than not a poem at all. So you gravitate toward those who shine the most light on you. Not really a revelation, like your "poem"."
>
> That deftly states what happens with the Dockery and Sulzbach poems.
>
> Also, continuing with Dale Houstman's comments:
> "First off - the lie you keep promulgating - that I NEVER offer positive
> comments. Simply not the truth - when a person posts a poem which owns
> qualities of value - despite the possible failure of the poem as a whole
> - AND they seem open to hearing and benefiting from not ONLY the "I like
> your poem" comments, I go to great lengths to offer useful advice. You
> fail on both accounts again and again: you do not offer up a poem with
> any discernible merit, and you respond badly to posts that do not accept
> the premise that you are a poet: the "negativity" you notice is actually
> your own creation. You show ANY tendency to learn from criticism, and
> from your own reading, and to start producing pieces with any value, and
> you will hear positive comments from me. Until then, my merely
> "pretending" to discover little pearls in your barnacles will do neither
> of us any good, and - in fact - would be cynical. I'll leave the
> cynicism to you."
>
> That is what happens (then and now) when George Dance (or Dockery or Sulzbach) receive honest criticism of their "poems." They don't learn, they don't improve, they write exactly the same after years of "practice."
>

Yes, the old threads from when George was a more active participant in the group discussions can be enlightening.

Despite Dale's observations to the contrary, George has learned something from AAPC: he's learned to maintain a lower profile. By limiting himself (largely) to posting his block --- and elaborating on its content "in response" to an obligatory (and inane) comment from Stink, he comes across as being knowledgeable.

It is only when he posts, and reacts to, an original poem that his shortcomings are brought into view.

On Friday, March 3, 2023 at 3:54:48 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Friday, March 3, 2023 at 10:38:08 AM UTC-5, NancyGene wrote:
> > On Friday, March 3, 2023 at 2:42:43 PM UTC, George Dunce wrote:
> > > On Wednesday, February 4, 2009 at 9:45:29 PM UTC-5, Dale Houstman wrote:
> > > > George Dance wrote:
> > > > > Benediction
> > > > >
> > > > > Nothing is changed by the rising sun
> > > > > itself, yet darkness retreats;
> > > > That's a very bad enjambment,
> > >
> > > Not only bad, but unnecessary: "itself" serves no purpose apart from that of repetitive filler.
> > >
> > > > and a non-intriguing paradox: if "nothing
> > > > is changed" by the rising sun, then how can "darkness retreat" since
> > > > that's a change? This isn't even to mention the utter flat dullness of
> > > > the opening two lines, which are really only informing us that sunrise
> > > > means less darkness. Not exactly a poetic revelation, or even a
> > > > particularly sharp observation. More along the lines of a massively
> > > > stoned dullard noticing they have five fingers on each hand.
> > >
> > > "Stoned dullard" does capture the essence of George Dance as a poet.
> > > > > behind me, land skull-white to soon be green,
> > > > Awkward to a fault...
> > > > > before, grey ocean to be vivid aqua,
> > > > These are stunningly dull sub-images, which keep reiterating the obvious
> > > > - that the sunrise (which supposedly changes nothing) adds color to the
> > > > things of darkness. It wasn't actually worth saying once, and you can't
> > > > stop saying it. Extremely boring stuff that, and none of it redeemed by
> > > > a clever bit of language, or a neatly-constructed image...
> > >
> > > The grammatically awkward lines remind me of classic Hollywood's depiction of Native American speech. Perhaps the speaker of George's poem is a Cree warrior named "Dances Atop Sheets."
> > > > > all of it now enlightened, all of it
> > > > > particles in random chaos,
> > > > > molecules in rigid stasis,
> > > > From the banal hammering home of a mediocre "idea" to flights of
> > > > moronic "scientific" abstraction. Hideous...
> > >
> > > When George says "all of it," he means *all* of it. It must be thrilling for Chief Dances Atop Sheets to experience sunrise on a sub-atomic level.
> > > > > so much from void; my eyes the very same
> > > > > giving it all the beauty,
> > > > > my words the meaning,
> > > > > my hearing all the song. I am
> > > > > the hub, the fixed point,
> > > > > the still point without which there is no dance
> > > > > and there is always the dance,
> > > > > motion and stillness ever entwined,
> > > > > now illuminated. Yet
> > > > Really and truly horrible: an ugly mixture of pretentious mysticism lite
> > > > and the image-less horror of one-dimensional abstraction all tied up in
> > > > the sensation of pure hackney-dom.
> > >
> > > And leave us not forget the pun on the author's name. George/Chief Dances Atop Sheets creates whatever meaning this sunrise has. He has elevated subjectivity to the status of Godhood. He is the axis upon which the earth turns; yet he is also without change -- eternal and everlasting.
> > > > > nothing is changed, no, nothing is new
> > > > > but a fresh breeze from the sea; and on the sea
> > > > > another ship charts course, cutting
> > > > > prow through breakers, churning
> > > > > blades amid the foam, curling
> > > > > sheets of white water
> > > > > around the mewing gulls.
> > > > It's really quite empty isn't it? A badly done exercise in "poetic
> > > > contemplation" that is bereft of actual poetry, gutted of human
> > > > observation, and exiled to a black pit of sentimental noodle-work in
> > > > place of writing. A typical posterior production of yours.
> > > > dmh
> > >
> > > George's poetry empty because it lacks any semblance of inspiration. He records bland thoughts that arise from bland observations -- most of which have been second-handed from others.
> > >
> > > George challenges himself to compose a poem in this, that, or the other form or style -- but the end result is inevitably as hollow and devoid of insight as your typical Hallmark card.
> > We like this statement in the same thread from Dale Houstman: "Of course not - she either pretended to find merit in your work, or she actually was unskilled enough to think that it was merely a slightly flawed poem rather than not a poem at all. So you gravitate toward those who shine the most light on you. Not really a revelation, like your "poem"."
> >
> > That deftly states what happens with the Dockery and Sulzbach poems.
> >
> > Also, continuing with Dale Houstman's comments:
> > "First off - the lie you keep promulgating - that I NEVER offer positive
> > comments. Simply not the truth - when a person posts a poem which owns
> > qualities of value - despite the possible failure of the poem as a whole
> > - AND they seem open to hearing and benefiting from not ONLY the "I like
> > your poem" comments, I go to great lengths to offer useful advice. You
> > fail on both accounts again and again: you do not offer up a poem with
> > any discernible merit, and you respond badly to posts that do not accept
> > the premise that you are a poet: the "negativity" you notice is actually
> > your own creation. You show ANY tendency to learn from criticism, and
> > from your own reading, and to start producing pieces with any value, and
> > you will hear positive comments from me. Until then, my merely
> > "pretending" to discover little pearls in your barnacles will do neither
> > of us any good, and - in fact - would be cynical. I'll leave the
> > cynicism to you."
> >
> > That is what happens (then and now) when George Dance (or Dockery or Sulzbach) receive honest criticism of their "poems." They don't learn, they don't improve, they write exactly the same after years of "practice."
> >
> Yes, the old threads from when George was a more active participant in the group discussions can be enlightening.

"Good find." George Dance was more active when he was working than he is when retired.
>
> Despite Dale's observations to the contrary, George has learned something from AAPC: he's learned to maintain a lower profile. By limiting himself (largely) to posting his block --- and elaborating on its content "in response" to an obligatory (and inane) comment from Stink, he comes across as being knowledgeable.

Is that why Dockery and Stink have decided that George Dance is the ultimate authority on poetry?
>
> It is only when he posts, and reacts to, an original poem that his shortcomings are brought into view.

They certainly have been pointed out, but Dockery and Stink try to shout down criticisms and bury them. George Dance will not acknowledge any fault. George Dance's poems are as mechanical as if Hal had written them. Emotions? No.

NancyGene wrote:

>

> Is that why Dockery and

Call me Zod, please, TIA.

> have decided that George Dance is the ultimate authority on poetry?

Certainly more-so than you'll ever be, NastyGene.... ha ha.

General-Zod wrote:

> NancyGene wrote:

>>

>> Is that why Dockery and

> Call me Zod, please, TIA.

>> have decided that George Dance is the ultimate authority on poetry?

> Certainly more-so than you'll ever be, NastyGene.... ha ha.

NancyGene is too obsessed with her malicious agenda to match up

HTH and HAND.

Will Dockery wrote:

> General-Zod wrote:

>> NancyGene wrote:

>>>

>>> Is that why Dockery and

>> Call me Zod, please, TIA.

>>> have decided that George Dance is the ultimate authority on poetry?

>> Certainly more-so than you'll ever be, NastyGene.... ha ha.

> NancyGene is too obsessed with her malicious agenda to match up

> HTH and HAND.

Nancy G. didn't even know who John Donne was ... ha ha...

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:

>> General-Zod wrote:

>>> NancyGene wrote:

>>>>

>>>> Is that why Dockery and

>>> Call me Zod, please, TIA.

>>>> have decided that George Dance is the ultimate authority on poetry?

>>> Certainly more-so than you'll ever be, NastyGene.... ha ha.

>> NancyGene is too obsessed with her malicious agenda to match up

>> HTH and HAND.

> Nancy G. didn't even know who John Donne was ... ha ha...

That was surprising, yes.