Like many poets and artists in the general public ability to conceptualize what they are reading, hearing, seeing, Christian Bök is commonly labeled and called “experimental” as a “Canadian poet”. Christian Bök, is the author of Eunoia, which won the Canadian Griffin Poetry Prize, said to be “Canada’s best-selling poetry book ever, which I question by merely saying “So?” in what is eternally at once a childish answer, in response to a childish question what is statement form.
Listening to Christian Bök recordings, of recitations of well constructed, yet artificial poetry, he is said to have began writing seriously in his early twenties. While earning his B.A. and M.A. degrees at CarletonUniversity in Ottawa, Christian Bök returned to Toronto in the early 1990s to study for a Ph.D. in English literature” in what is generally considered an urban literary community. Where as of 2005 he teaches at the more rural and remote University of Calgary, so I have to wonder.
“What is being taught in higher learning institutions of the western world, as teachers worldwide seem to be required to resort to entertaining students, so as it is imagined to maintain student enrollment in satisfaction of his employment. Employment by university administrations obsessed with bottom lines measured by such metric measures in what does not correlate into what translates into an education. Conversely in what I do not suggest does not manifest as educational but which i find more so entertainingly, more so based on financing where”.
“Bök is a sound poet creating conceptual art, in constructing artistic languages for science-fiction but which is metaphysical and entertaining at best which has little relevance of its own basis. As I wonder what would we gather listening to such poetic “sound poems” centuries from now. Some time in the future, in what would be gathered from such “poetry” as Christian Bök has been know for. I wonder, what meaning that alleged “poetry” will convey. Where Homer left us a poetic record of the Trojan War in the Iliad and Odyssey, as James Joyce did of his times, in what left us memorable records like the Bible. What will be remembered centuries from now, in what Cicero could of plagiarized from indigenous aboriginal shards of what was a proud culture?
Where such sounds, of sound poems perhaps once had real meanings. In cultures manifest today on the ancient Greek shards of Rodos which were left indecipherable.
In what exists before being erased by endless races for the accumulation of profits and power, in what ended in Alexander’s Indian demise. Where if we survive these calamities of the hyper alienated cultures generated these self-absorbed, self-centered institutions based on enrollments and corporate profits, it is asked what will we as a society be remembered for. In educations which seem useless in pursuit meaning, as well as incomes. Where From which often no specific social meaning can be acquired from sounds which appear beyond the purely elitist mechanizations of a capitalist society producing what they call art at taxpayer expense, as entertaining, in what educationally has perhaps no real meaning.
Yes of course like any worker Christian Bök amongst others, as many others can hammer literally, figuratively, and expressionistically, bring into our conscience cognition aspects of their work. Work which we can imagine as any noise, or shadow in the night to be what it is. and what it is not. Where Christian Bök, amongst others can pour much of energy and enthusiasm, into mindlessly mechanics, as any ship builder, and Rosy Riveter, none the more or less. Producing nothing recognizable without diminishing the theoretical nature of what they produce. Produced in what one can refer to as if “art”, where comparisons to “primitive art” must be made to give it contextual cultural standing.
Where Christian Bök tweeted as I was writing this article “ Christian Bok @christianbok 21 Aug “We no longer have to burn books on the pyres—since now we can just delete them….” just as I looked for the “Christian Bök interview and reading on CBC Radio program And Sometimes Y, episode 5, July 25, 2006” the CBC website obscenely stated:
“Sorry, we can’t find the page you requested.”
In what translates into what represents the futility of a society which knows not what to do with itself.
But which can no doubt be found else where, as though I find it all really cool (and could merely say, time after time, time and again, it is cool) people create, perform, present what people call “art”. I feel compelled to say some thing a little deeper than a college freshmen, and a little less metaphysical than “wow that is so spaced out”, considering the state of the world in the black and white art world of good and bad, and many, many shades of gray for which I find no meaning.
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Christian Bök, the man and his Sound Poems Poetry