Monday, July 25, 2016

OTI:two poems and notes:7/25/16

Open To Interpretation


I walked away
Then came back
Okay tell me
I'll stand and listen.
Oh, I have it noted
The community avoids me,
And that is my fault? you say.
I should have kept walking
And you keep talking
Explaining me to me,
I don't see it
Just don't
Just stop
I don't want it.


Notes:  Publicity...from a dream...I was being upbraided for being shy, I think, and didn't take it, woke up in fact when the dream got too pushy!...and I titled the poem 'publicity', but not sure that was the sentiment of the was more like some high school thing when a shy fellow hasn't asked a girl to a dance, and one steps up and 'Sadie Hawkins' him!...shyness has that vulnerability...went on about that in post about Hitchcock movie Suspicion...I'm not sure just what shyness is...brb...


People who are not shy may be up-front, aggressive, or critical towards shy people in an attempt "to get them out of their shell." This can actually make a shy person feel worse, as it draws attention to them, making them more self-conscious and uncomfortable.

unquote of the remarkable things about the web is that wiki just sprung up like out of nowhere...and all the self similar sites...some more...


Physical symptoms of social phobia can include shortness of breath, trembling, increased heart rate, and sweating; in some cases, these symptoms are intense enough and numerous enough to constitute a panic attack. Shyness, on the other hand, may incorporate many of these symptoms, but at a lower intensity, infrequently, and does not interfere tremendously with normal living.

same wiki


my whole family is shy...see it in my relatives a family trait...some more than others...I could tell tales!...shyness is of course a defense everyone has...approach any animal as a stranger, and you'll usually see their shyness...I say usually, Maya, my dog, isn't shy at all...I've read it's the Husky trait to be sociable...she's part Husky and Shepard...Huskies don't make good watchdogs, I read, they greet's a secret joy of mine to take her for walks, and see her greet everyone we meet...something I'd like to do hiking friend in the mountains was like that...she'd start up conversations with everyone we came across...alone, hiking, I smile, say hello, and continue past...oh, and that gets me where I wanted to shyness...encased in our cars of course we don't greet and meet at all!...but at Malls and such, we walkabout with our own group, and it's not like we're going to invite anyone to bench sit and share tales!...and where I wanted to go with this is this quote from yesterday's link to quotes from Tale of Two Cities...I've been trying to gather this sentiment into a poem, and here early on Dickens has it...a long quote, but, hey, this isn't paper...


A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! Something of the awfulness, even of Death itself, is referable to this. No more can I turn the leaves of this dear book that I loved, and vainly hope in time to read it all. No more can I look into the depths of this unfathomable water, wherein, as momentary lights glanced into it, I have had glimpses of buried treasure and other things submerged. It was appointed that the book should shut with a spring, for ever and for ever, when I had read but a page. It was appointed that the water should be locked in an eternal frost, when the light was playing on its surface, and I stood in ignorance on the shore. My friend is dead, my neighbour is dead, my love, the darling of my soul, is dead; it is the inexorable consolidation and perpetuation of the secret that was always in that individuality, and which I shall carry in mine to my life's end. In any of the burial-places of this city through which I pass, is there a sleeper more inscrutable than its busy inhabitants are, in their innermost personality, to me, or than I am to them?

Chapter 3 A Tale Of Two Cities
Charles Dickens

so, so, in the evening I went over to the $3 movie theater in the Orange Mall...Now You See Me 2 playing, and the theater filled up...I didn't see Now You See Me, the first one, but everyone else seemed to have...a fine tale of magicians as x men like heroes...and I think a film having the most gentle rating of any I've seen in a long while...a fine thing to hear the audience laugh...


Thomas Benton claims that because shy people "have a tendency toward self-criticism, they are often high achievers, and not just in solitary activities like research and writing. Perhaps even more than the drive toward independent achievement, shy people long to make connections to others often through altruistic behavior."

from same wiki



Was Dickens shy?...
nope, not a bit...
He managed Publicity just fine.



Sunday, July 24, 2016

OTI:two poems and notes:7/24/16

Open To Interpretation


Maybe some will notice
The fault is in our star:
Too warm the sea
Moistens the heated air
And surrounding coolness
Begins hurricanes' spins.


Oh, you stole your sister
Echo's daffodils,
Narcissus another name...

Notes:  Fault...arrived at this poem after doing a bunch that don't quite make it to 'poem''s very hard to write poems about current events, things in the news, and such...Fault was the last one I did in this group, and it has a telling pun in 'fault'...familiar is earthquake 'faults'...what these are gets explained every time there is an earthquake!...but it's not like the earth is at 'fault', being a motorist running a red light is at 'fault'...Nature is all about faults...we just deal with them, endure them, call them 'acts of nature' human affairs, fault begins to take on connotations of irresponsibility, and a whole philosophy of crime and punishment...hmmph...let me continue with listing the group!...and afterwards some notes on the notes!...


They have no sense
So we are left with their nonsense
Swabbing blood stained cement decks.


And grabbed by the collars
They twirl and spin
Every which way
Snapping at the hands that feed them.


There's no room for a populace gone crazy,
And our graveyards fill with the 
Fatalitied innocent trying to sustain peace.

A Rose Is A Rose

In France it was called "The Terror"
In Germany "The Holocaust"
Elsewhere more names
For this same weather
Like "Hurricane" and "Cyclone".


Insects have it worked out
Which of them begins
And ends
The recycling of corpses
If they can get to one
Before the war loosed dogs.


Our soldier's battles and deaths
Can be reported alongside
The stock markets' daily
Report of losses and gains.
Why not?
It's where wars begin, and sustain.
But instead it is for buffs
That delve into such history stuff
And sad soldiers' duties
To report to families.


Lincoln wore all black
And kept the Black Book nearby
A funerary attire
The citizenry adopted.


Notenotes: Nonsense...nonsense is one of Nature's faults, for people nonsense is a fault...having established a pun/play on the word fault, maybe that makes sense!...Collared...revolutionaries are like that...reference my wrestling with Maya, my dog!...I'm not adverse to using a hackneyed phrase like 'hand that feeds them' if I can put it in a setting that breaths life back into it...Robert Graves goes on somewhere, about the word 'haywire'...used so often to describe things gone awry, it lost it's original freshness, which he explains as the frustration a farmer had when bailing a bale of hay, the wire snaps, and scatters the hay all over...Fatalitied...I made up a way of getting 'freshness'!...I was thinking here of events in Turkey...what in the world are they going to do with the rounded up!...which brought to mind the French Terror, which in my study of the Romantic poets I keep coming across...and that led to A Rose Is A Rose...

quote from wiki

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet" is a frequently referenced part of William Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet, in which Juliet seems to argue that it does not matter that Romeo is from her rival's house of Montague, that is, that he is named "Montague." The reference is often used to imply that the names of things do not affect what they really are.


...different names can be a disguise of the same thing...I did search: Wordsworth French Terror...and found myself studying the self same thing that is happening in Turkey...Robespierre's justification of 'terror' is chilling...clearly modern terrorists have a model to follow, as did Hitler, Stalin, Mao Tse Tung, and their ilk...and of course to counter such terrorists, there is counter terrorists, witness the growing chorus of Guglianis!...I's the best of times, it's the worst of of my toon personalities is made by the movie Tale of Two the book too...'a far far better thing than I ever did before'...


  • It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.
  • Note: These closing lines bring Dickens' motif of doubles...


    Oh, it was Dicken's tale, thought it was Hugo's...forgot...we guillotined insects mercilessly as kids...Insects...and insects is a pun on those mechanical sorts who just respond like keys to a player piano's scroll...Bodie's Black Piano...dogs go feral let loose...people too...Reports...just trying to get at freedom of press suppression in a terror/counter terror milieu...I'm out of my depth in this stuff, and with a word like milieu, which must be French...remarkably, many poets try to swim in it, politics and such...seeking grand faction in the Terror thought to eradicate Christianity, sending monks and nuns to's take gives the breakdown of what segments of society were executed...25 per cent were from the aristocracy (8%), the clergy, and the middle class...the rest were commoners slaughtered by commoners...which is ironic, insomuch as the effort of the terror was to voice the common people's will...what happened seems to be the establishment of martial law with the goal of straightening things out, and then normal governance restored...a Terror would have happened with America's revolution too I think, but with our frontier there was room for everyone to kind of spread out and not get on one another's nerves!, with every Nation so crowded, there's just no room, for a 'populace gone crazy' the Terror, the prisons of Paris became overcrowded, and the 'nation's razor' trimmed...Reports is kind of generic...I don't know if seeing by everyone everyday battle reports helps any...WW2 was fought with hardly anyone knowing what was going on...which is curious, as I have some history stuff that seems to show that the politically savvy knew exactly how that war would progress from beginning to end...see Claire Booth Luce, Life Magazine, General Stillwell piece, 1942 issue...sometime I want to work this up, as it has Captain Frank Robert's in it...'Black Book' has become a pun for IslamChristianityJudaism's text book...I think Durrell wrote a novel, The Black Book...brb...I read it, and forget what it was about...was that the murder as a game story!?...anyway, it's a different Black Book!...Black Books goes along with my Black Decks and such! times, people weary of their poverty, and just life's travails in general, lending support to the nefarious ambitious...Wordsworth...the second poem up there at top...I didn't know that Daffodils and the flower named after Narcissus are one and the same...studied this out, and learned the flower lore of Daffodils...sacred to Persephone...and maybe the flower of the Elysian Fields...and his sister was his Echo, literally transcribing his day to day for years and years...maybe Google's mine...ral...reference Wordsworth poem I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud, and his sister's letter describing daffodils on one of their walks...'their' being Coleridge, Wordsworth and Dororthy...oh, I shouldn't use 'gyre' references, for the scholarly!, Yeats, I think...brb...yep, and gosh I just don't like 'gyre' at the end of Fault is now 'spin'...oh, got rid of 'the' too...'the hurricane's gyre' before...much better now!



    Saturday, July 23, 2016

    OTI:sixteen poems and notes:7/23/16

    Open To Interpretation

    Lost Song From A Dream

    I cried beat beat
    I tried beat beat
    Our love was so complete
    Beat beat

    Da da beat beat
    Da da beat beat
    Dada da da da da da
    Beat beat

    And a kind of woodblock telegraph key tapping for drum beats

    Oh it's gone,
    I had the whole song...

    Oh, No Doubt

    Oh, no doubt
    Your redoubt
    Is impervious
    To all my flirts
    And so obvious
    If one succeeds
    It will be genius.


    That computer rehearsed
    Its chess move how many billion times?
    Nothing, nothing at all
    To the stars' reiterations
    That brought you here.
    No wonder I fear
    From some stupid impulse
    I'm repulsed
    And wander another eternity.


    Flowers are in attendance
    At funerals and weddings,
    And more attentive than I,
    So easily I drift off subject
    Unless it's mine.

    Beauty And Proportion

    So, you too love
    Beauty and Proportion,
    Even your own.
    My flatteries never meet
    Your humble look,
    Rather your questing look,
    "Tis so?"
    "Yes, you're beautiful."  I say,
    Grateful to speak what most pleases you,
    And greet your embrace.


    Tease my ass
    Oh you do you do
    An expression of affection
    They say
    Pleases me too.


    Would that I would
    Have you don sackcloth with me?
    Like Francis his Claire?
    Just getting naked together
    Would be a start,
    From there
    We can go anywhere.

    Rich And Poor

    Oh, we could be really really rich
    Or really really poor
    From fickle Fortune's door.
    Most likely some middle niche
    Our own efforts marry...
    Anyway, those shopping carts
    Look really really heavy.

    Your Castle

    Oh, your castle from the outside
    Seems spacious
    But inside it's kind of tiny
    And nightly crowded with unknightly knights.
    Weapons aside, we'd hardly make a phalanx against the kittens.
    But we pay the rent,
    And may as well be heaven sent.

    What Am I Saying?

    I can look dour,
    I can look serious,
    What am I saying?
    I am.
    I could be your bodyguard,
    I could be your
    Knight in shining armor.
    What am I saying?
    I've got no armor,
    Or much polish.


    My musings for you
    Are now everywhere
    Under the leaf litter
    Of this new forest.
    Reach down,
    And brush any leaf aside,
    You may find one,
    But more likely
    Some pesky insects
    I with must needs share this floor.

    The Cacophony

    Too muted my musings?
    Blame the cacophony.
    I'd need sirens to drive through all that,
    And even still they won't pull over.
    Maybe in the dead of night
    When traffic's light
    While awaiting sleep
    You'll hear my tunes
    With the Mockingbird's.

    A Second Stanza For The Lost Song

    You sighed,
    "My heart doesn't yours entreat."

    Mine, like a metronome
    Set to double time,
    Went still.


    Oh, I am perverse,
    But it's just too hot
    To do much else
    Than layabout
    And write verses for you.


    Some anticipation this,
    I have no idea what to expect
    So always prepare
    For never.


    You're my conversation now...
    When I left the mountains
    I lost my conversation...
    Conversations actually.
    Now, there's you.
    It can be fatal not to have someone
    To talk to, they say.
    What do they know,
    It can be Death himself
    Waiting behind your Black Glass Doors.


    Notes:  Lost Song...I tried to retrieve it from my dream, where it was playing perfectly...and I could still hear it as I key padded, but it faded, and faded, and was gone...the second Lost Song is an effort to make a verse from the night I had a whole lot of poems dreamed...all I had to do was awake and transcribe, but couldn't manage even one word, so illusive they were!...Oh, No Doubt...flirts are always a fail, and silly, until one works!...Rehearsal...reference the final episode of Person of Interest...a goof...Flowers...another goof...Beauty and Proportion...maybe lose 'proportion', but it was part of the conversation...a memento...Tease...if people tease you, I've heard, it's actually a sign of affection...that's a stretch, I guess, but I've gone with it...Would...reference St. Francis and St. Claire...'I and You' between different classes is the stuff of fairytales...Rich And Poor...a kind of generic sentiment...but I really wanted the 'shopping carts' pun...Your Castle...this started off grand...imagining Arthur and his Knights with the Green Knight barging in...less grand, it's truer...fond of 'phalanx against the kittens'...What Am I Saying?...a self deprecating carry over from 'unknightly knights' some point all these postings may bite one in the butt...old paper authors are full of such tales...and the clutter on their forest floor the same...The Cacophony...a revisit of the longing for quiet just to often refrain!...A Second Stanza...trying to make another stanza to the lost song...the sound of a metronome came to me as being similar to the woodblock like rhythm beats in the dream song...double time as it was a quick beat...and that to heart beats, and a poem!...Perverse...last night's Milton study uncovered that he had a long stretch of leisure through wealthy patronage...there isn't much to be said for writing, exertion wise, though Hemingway said it took an athletes does take quiet...sitting on top of Cuyamaca Peak alone silence quiet, with just that one conversation in your head...Never...I haven't got enough of contemplating 'never' yet...likely never will!'s true, I think, not talking to anyone days on end, weeks, months, is against our natures...and not having a Muse, a'd Picasso put it?...'without a girl, I'm not Picasso!'...Muses seem to reside in scary inaccessible places...


    It was a virtue not to stay,
    To go our headstrong and heroic way
    Seeking her out at the volcano's head,
    Among pack ice, or where the track had faded
    Beyond the cavern of the seven sleepers
    from The White Goddess
    by Robert Graves

    Friday, July 22, 2016

    OTI:one poem and notes:7/22/16

    Open To Interpretation


    'O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth. '
    That's some thought, Milton, for your
    Sister friend, Lycidas nicknamed,
    But what lament could you fashion
    For a beheaded Syrian boy
    And a rubble field with shredded children?
    I hold my cup under the soda machine's ice dispenser,
    And one cube falls apart,
    And rests between my thumb and forefinger's grip,
    That webbed platform of skin there.
    A dull pain a sudden,
    Out of proportion to one ice cube,
    But it hurts, and I switch my grip and shake my hand.
    Warmth gently returns,
    'Wafted' another term.


    Notes: I don't know how I got to reading Milton, not Milton, but Poetry's biography take...oh, I did see a bit in passing where he goes on about Narcissus in a couple of his poems, in one, Eve replaces they hold up mirrors to Dolphins and the Dolphins recognize themselves...dilemma is when we look into one another's eyes, we don't see, recognize, ourselves...might say humanity is in a state of pre-recognition of our own odd thought, but if you can't see yourself in others...Milton distinguished between Shakespeare and Ben Johnson as two different sorts of with a scholarly education, Johnson, and Shakespeare had a self taught, limited schooling one...and Shakespeare the better for his, as he was unhindered by scholarship...something Milton recognized himself as being hampered by...but Milton soldiered on, and wrote up a lot, poems and prose, to the delight of scholars, who write about him only second to Shakespeare!...or so I have it from Poetry's take...I can't sit on a bench in a Cathedral...seems a massive diversion...Milton is another of my poems about other's 'I and You'...'Sister friend'...I have it that in gay community parlance, a 'sister' is a lover who is chaste...a gay couple not engaged in sex are called 'sisters'...a civilization not engaged in sex?...seems a few going on about that, which is likely why Gauguin fled to Tahiti!...reference Milton's poem Lycidas, the only one I read in school about...I really envy how these old poets go on about flowers, and grottoes, and brooks, and such...they wanted much to capture the feel of the old Greeks and Romans, and I suspect they'd all been a happier lot just chucking the Black Book and its heaven sent gloom...



    Thursday, July 21, 2016

    OTI:two poems and notes:6/21/16

    Open To Interpretation


    Geraldine undressed,
    And Christabel
    Saw Christina,
    And caught her breath.


    Ah, you thought to escape
    But took a few things with.
    I thought I'd seen that
    In your 'Nevemore'.
    Her pose is classic
    And fantastic,
    A language to supplant
    All that went before.


    Notes: Well, I suppose my 'I and You' poems can include observing others' 'I's and You's"...I've done a few such already, here's a couple more...Coleridge...reference Samuel Taylor Coleridge and his fragmentary poem Christabel...I was thinking of putting Christabel and Geraldine aboard the Black Ship, as co captains, or one or the other as captain, while Dulcinea is away in the clutches of the Black Dragon...Coleridge really throws a screw ball with really doesn't know what affliction affects her side and bosom that so shocks Christabel, and one's imagination takes off...likely a ploy by Coleridge!...he could be very calculating...considering, I thought of Christina, the famous painting by Andrew Wyeth (the viewer does a double take when noticing Christina is crippled)...Gauguin...I was checking Nevermore references...Nevermore being the refrain in Edgar Allen Poe's poem The Raven...and now the far away destination of the Black Dragon with Dulicinea in its claws!...and I happened on Gauguin's painting O Taiti, which has Nevemore painted in the upper left corner...Gauguin had just heard a recital of The Raven...the Raven being recited, in English I imagine, before Gauguin with his entourage, in Tahiti, another screwball!...(a screwball is a baseball pitch that is very slow and has no spin whatsoever, and so air pressure pushes it any old way on the way to the plate--a dancing pitch)...Gauguin in wiki's take is said to have said that it is not a Raven standing near the top of the painting...Gauguin could be even more calculating...but he had his own method of printing that introduced randomness into the final print--screwiness!...oh, the bird is Gauguin...that beak, his I have screwball wrong...a screwball goes the opposite of a curve ball...which I think is like for a right handed pitcher a curve ball curves from the pitcher's right to left, and a screwball would be very hard to throw, as one would have to torque one's forearm and hand to left and down to impart the backward sort of spin to make the ball go left to right from pitcher's perspective...brb...sort of got it...what I was thinking of, above, was the sort of suspends the ball on one's knuckles, just your fingernails grab it, and it releases with no spin...'no spin' is the pun I'm trying to sustain!...knuckleballs often are uncontrollable, missing everything and going to the screen, or hitting the batter...



    Tuesday, July 19, 2016

    OTI:one poem and notes:7/19/16

    Open To Interpretation


    "Lenore" said Poe, Edgar Allen,
    Aside the Black Ship's railing beside Ishmael,
    Looking out over the black waves.
    "Dulcinea to us." said Ishmael.
    Poe gave Ishmael a wry look,
    And listened to the Raven on his shoulder croaking in his ear.
    The Ravens and Gulls were back in the rigging,
    And the crew returned to their knees
    Cleaning and polishing the Black Deck.
    "The one Black Dragon captured Lenore...
    From Nemo and the Nautilus..." said Poe.
    "Nemo!?"  What of Ichi and his craft?" asked Ishmael.
    Poe lent his ear to the Raven.
    "Ichi traded Lenore to Nemo for treasure, and a new crew for his craft. 
    They rode the waves westward, with Lenore's Dolphins, and blessings."
    "And where to the Black Dragon with Dulcinea?" asked Ishmael
    Poe paused to listen to the Raven.
    "To the South, to the Land of Lost Loves, Nevermore... 
    Wait...there's more..." Poe continued,
    "Ravens Huginn and Muninn have eyes on the Dragon, and pursue..."
    "And so we have, and so we will!" Ishmael called to the gathered crew.


    Notes: Huginn and Muninn are Odin's mythological Ravens, noted for their spy craft!..."Lenore" references The Raven poem by Edgar Allen a kid I had a complete works of Edgar Allen Poe, a squat book with tiny tiny print and thin paper of course the famous stories Vincent Price made famous in the movies!

    Sunday, July 17, 2016

    OTI:one poem and notes:7/17/16

    Open To Interpretation


    So, Narcissus, were you surprised
    When Ophelia floated by,
    Echo of a future time?


    Notes:  Hamlet is Narcissus, and Ophelia, Echo...a wonder if the scholar critics picked this up...brb...lots see the jumps out when Ophelia is looking into the river...having myself been considering Ovid's tale of Narcissus and Echo, it just makes sense...instead of being fixated on his own beauty, like Narcissus, Hamlet becomes fixated on revenge for the murder of his father, King Hamlet...and Ophelia's lament is the same as Echo's...they express their love, but are rebuffed by Narcissus' and Hamlet's preoccupations!...the whole tragic play of Hamlet tumbles out from this 'deafness'...ral...I just returned from watching Hamlet performed in the little out door theater in the old town park next to the old Gem theater...the old part of Garden Grove, the main street, has been kept as it was when I knew it as a kid...oddly, it's not very popular, as many town's old restored centers are, probably because there are no swinging night spots...anyway, I'd  been back and forth to Home Depot getting materials and parts, fixing up the porch for Maya, my dog, and me!...I always pass Main Street when I return, and this evening took note of folk filing into the outdoor theater...oh!, my thought, Hamlet is about to start! I parked by the Gem, and went over to buy a ticket...I was hardly dressed for the occasion, t-shirt and levis, all dusty from working about the house, but I had my long sleeve plaid shirt in Silver, my jeep, so went back for that, and my Valley hoodie, which I didn't need, evening very is really cool...big old time pine trees above the stage's ceiling with its lighting fixtures, and a three quarter moon...and, and I was much bemused by the stage set...maybe I can find pic...brb...okay, here's link to Summerfest Orange County facebook Hamlet...scroll down a bit and there's a pic of the stage the very center it was a double deck stage...a kind of small balcony...when the ghost appears, he comes out of the lower part, and above on the balcony patio part King Claudius and Queen Gertrude were carrying on in was just like I imagined in my Two Hamlets poem!...ral...and there's more! either side there were dark doorways, and stairs going up to second level doorways, everything black, of course...but to indicate snow having fallen, I guess, the upper edges of the walls and's supposed to be a castle interior and exterior...were splattered with white wash...and it actually looked like 'white wash', poop from birds...from Ravens and Gulls!...the whole dammed set up looked like the Black Ship!...and with morose Hamlet sitting stage, my left, by a simulated grave, his father's, later to be Ophelia's, dressed all in black, of course, it was perfect!...below Decks too! the end of the performance, I stood right up, giving my standing ovation!...and after a bit, sat down, chagrined...I was the only one standing...what can I say, I had a beer at intermission...I was so sleepy from old house tasks that I needed something to stay awake! was all very nicely down, I thought...the players within the play did a Vietnamese dance number, which was touching, as Town now has many Vietnamese...didn't see any in audience, which had that wine and cheese old hippies ambience!...hmmph...anyway...I haven't seen a live stage play in play in the summer series is the Pirates of Penzance!...I might go to each one to hark back to when I was a stage hand for that play at Melodyland, 1966 or so!...oh, when Hamlet sends a falsified letter to the King of England in secret, disparaging R&G as traitors, insuring their execution, that's right out of Bellerophon...Shakespeare knew his old Greek tales, and his audience too!