Dingo the Dissident

THE BLOG OF DISQUIET : Qweir Notions, an uncommonplace-book from the Armpit of Diogenes, binge-thinker jottings since 2008 .

Thursday 30 June 2016

Capitalism can never fail -

because, through its system of providential
(and apparently improvident) antinomies,
and its heuristic reversal of post-Marxian
hermeneutics of suspicion
(or, to put it another way,
by reversing the apparent polarity of loss),
release permahot profit (or gain)
from physical circumstance
in a singularity of instruments,
which we will call The Lost Chord.

More concisely: by abandoning liquidity
it will bet on its own collapse,
and thus will have the Last Word.

Wednesday 29 June 2016

The Evolution of "Please".

First there was the phrase
If it please you [note the subjunctive]
as an imprecation.
Now the single word please!
is uttered merely as an exhortation.

Tuesday 28 June 2016

World War Two

Britain won the war - but insisted on losing the peace.
America won the war and the peace, and then the cold war
through its ethic and doctrine of Arbeit macht frei.
Germany lost the war - but won the peace.
France lost the war - and also won the peace
thanks to the Common Market which it, largely, set up.
Russia won the war for Britain and the USA,
started the cold war, lost it, and has given up on peace.

Monday 27 June 2016

Poor Refugees...

...frustrated in their hopes of jumping out of the frying-pan of Syrian holocaust
into the fire of European greed, iniquity, xenophobia and decadence.

Sunday 26 June 2016

An e-mail I wrote yesterday to a Lithuanian friend.

It’s a very bad time for Europe, and particularly bad for Ireland which may soon get a frontier like that between Lithuania and Russia or Macedonia and Croatia.  (Northern Ireland, like Scotland, voted mainly to remain in the EU.)

In recent weeks thousands of people of Irish descent living in Britain have applied for Irish passports. Indeed the largest group of ‘immigrants’ in Britain is the Irish, who (according to the treaty of 1922, reinforced by the Belfast and Anglo-Irish Agreements of recent times ) have voting rights and welfare rights in any case.  Most of them, like me, can choose their nationality.  In theory, I could actually get a British passport again… Not that anything short of a very English red-hot poker up my arse would persuade me.

The referendum of course was not so much about the EU as about ‘immigration’, and it was the “working class”, the "great unwashed" "the man in the street", who voted for the right-wing demagogues, just as they voted repeatedly for Mussolini, and, eventually Hitler (though it was the middle classes who actually put him in power).
Not to mention Russia’s and Belarus’ “Dear Leaders”…

There is a strange feeling of instability, rather like the 1930s.  And there’s Ukraine and Syria, Turkey becoming more authoritarian…and the strong possibility that Mr Trump will be the next president of the United States !!!!

Not so many English people will now be buying houses in France.  People already here for 20 years are talking about having to apply for French driving-licences if not for French nationality and right to residence, even if their children were born here.

I wonder if the governments in Edinburgh and Belfast will be sending people over to Brussels to try and keep their 'countries' in the EU, as England (with poor old, horribly disempowered Wales) spends a lot of money - extracted from its poor -  to extract itself…

Blackest joke of all: Gibraltar also voted to leave the EU.  That may add to the eventual fishing-war with Spain.  (Britain had a ‘Cod War’ with Iceland in the 1960s.  Nobody was killed directly, and Iceland won.)

Many Anglophones here in south-western France (whom I generally avoid) had the same feeling in their stomachs yesterday as I had.  I certainly didn’t expect to have that ‘sinking’ feeling…like I had so often at school before 'the business' of getting caned by the headmaster.

But I am keeping cheerful.  A little cannabis in the evening is very good for my mental health, and...damn England to Hell - which kept Ireland from Europe for close on a thousand years!

Saturday 25 June 2016

Of course, Winston Churchill is to blame

for Europe's current political and economic mess.
A fierce English nationalist,
he was so contemptuous of de Gaulle
and his Free French during World War Two,
that de Gaulle famously prevented the UK
from joining the Common Market
when it finally wanted to, and thus it had to wait ten years
and join as a supplicant rather than an equal partner.

Churchill also hated the break-away Irish,
who now are in something of a pickle
and face the possibility of a serious frontier
on their island...

It's no longer a work ETHIC

but a work RELIGION. Just consider the current
attitude to 'robots' and Artificial Intelligence
(mainly dread) compared with what it was
a hundred years ago, when they dreamed that robots
and gadgets would give us the free time to fulfil ourselves.
We are terrified of free time now, must fill it up with work
or 'sport' or 'fitness-training', mindless hatha-yoga,
repainting walls, doing a useless, daft degree
in Media Studies. Few have the guts to give themselves
the freedom to be ludic, to be free.

Friday 24 June 2016

Gloss on A POEM OF DESPAIR by "Igor Severyanin"

I know nothing, trust in nothing,
don't see life's reputed brighter side.
I'm wary even of my close companions.
Friendship is vacuous. I'm just
a piece of shit washed up by a filthy tide.

A hospital is bombed. Refugees are raped.
Everywhere corruption, lies and greed.
Seeing is revulsion, hearing is white noise.
To do evil seems to be our guiding creed.

I know Philosophy's corrupt and love is self-deceit -
just smoke and mirrors. Hope's another
universal cause of misery. I am lucky to have fun
in living, I'm not crushed by futility.
I'll have a body-bag, please - no winding-sheet.

Igor Vasilyevich Lotaryov (1887-1941) was a St Petersburg poet who presided over the circle of 'Ego-Futurists', and admired - even looked like - Oscar Wilde.

The Verlaine of fin-de-siècle Russia, 'Severyanin' was one of the first poets to leave Russia after the October Revolution. He settled in Estonia in 1918, then tried to return to Russia shorttly afterwards, but could not because of the civil war, marriage to a local girl, unreceptive literary climate, etc.

Severyanin died from a heart attack in Russian-occupied Tallinn, several decades after his reputation had been dissolved by the Soviet optimism which ended in capitalist infection.

The last 2½ lines of the above poem are mine, not Severyanin's.

Thursday 23 June 2016

from my Dictionary of British Oppressive Slang

A little Rough-and-Tumble
(especially in schools and institutions)
= physical and often sexual abuse,
purportedly 'character-building'.

Slap and Tickle
= abusive sexual intercourse,
often fuelled by alcohol.

Wednesday 22 June 2016


No trumpet sounds for life-in-death;
there is no winding-sheet or mummy-cloth.
The entrails rot and deliquesce -
the darkness is not nothing;
no-one, nothing was nor is my debtor.
All life is death
and death's mistake is life.

Being with you
(kind-of close,
not civil partner, not wife,
but buddy-voluntary)
was (when you were not morose)
as good as being solitary
the food was better.
(Love is just emotion,
life for most is drab devotion.)

I settle
solitary below the rich but thin alluvium
of loneliness upon the planet.
The hungry roots above are nourished
quietly, without mammalian kerfuffle -
Quince, Pseudopanax, Oak and Medlar,
Rose-bay Willowherb and nettle,
The badgers scrape and snuffle.

Tuesday 21 June 2016


I'd rather be insanitary than insane
(though not yet the second, I am indeed the first)
- on the other hand
I'd rather have Alzheimer's
than be a bureaucrat or any kind of crat,
or work in any kind of bureau, office
or officious, sedentary habitat.
I'd rather be homosexual than homogeneous
(though 'homosexuals'  now, alas! are wallowing
in self-sought LBGT homogenisation);
I'd rather live in sensual asexuality
than in unsensual normality.
I'd rather be a terrorist than Prime Minister,
and rather a string-quartet violist than either.
I'd rather be a tree
than William Shakespeare -
but rather Walter Whitman than a flea.

Monday 20 June 2016

The good thing about having no "social life"

is that you can go to bed early.
The good thing about not having a job
is that you can get up late.

We spend much of our lives
pulling bits (emotional or sexual)
and pieces (painting, literature, music...)
from other humans
to fill spaces which we think
should not be empty.

One third of my my life has been spent
reading books (from Homer via Icelandic Sagas
to Anne Enright and Kate Atkinson),
one third spent in sweet sleep
and one third "being different",
and "socially mismatched".
Living your life through books (of quality)
can make you think you're wise
and gorgeously detached.

Sunday 19 June 2016

Homage to Dorothy - 2

"Do not stand at my grave and weep" -
though I am there, I do not sleep;
I rot into a chalky sludge.
Rotting is fun!  I will not budge.
You can join me, if you wish -
melt into my toxic squish...

Saturday 18 June 2016

Friday 17 June 2016

Being Bullish about Europa

The British used to talk about
Crossing to The Continent, while the Irish
fled to Catholic Christendom
(France, Spain and Italy).
Turkish Cypriots went to the Ottoman Mainland
which once ruled over Greece,
while Greek Cypriots went to
the Hellenic Homeland
(which once included coastal Turkey).
Finns, Swedes, Norwegians
and Estonians (and less-surprisingly
Manx and Maltese) even today
talk of Going to Europe
as if they lived in Greenland.

For "Ever-greater Union" let us pray.

Thursday 16 June 2016

My excursion into the (usually fatuous) genre of Science Fiction

What if there's no tomorrow ?
There wasn't one today.
O ostrich optimists -
your bus has gone astray!


definitely didn't do Pilates,
nor did Pilate
have any truck with Christes.

Wednesday 15 June 2016

If a "work of art" can be defined as

something that one person creates
and another appreciates,
a "great" work of art might only be
something that people will merely
pay money to have or to see.

Tuesday 14 June 2016

The meek

give thanks to God
and 'Allah
for letting them keep on begging
and starving and grovelling
until they get guns
and never inherit the earth.

On the Puritan Ethic.

Mother Death
is a workaholic.

Monday 13 June 2016

As soon as possible

after birth,
children are killed by the System
so that the dead can continue
to be buried by the dead.

Sunday 12 June 2016

The wonderful thing about Jews

is that they view Jesus as an impostor.
The sad thing about Jews
is that they forced rather than eased
upon an unconsulted Muslim population
(whose Holy Qur'an admittedly
is very far from Hebrew-friendly)
yet another pseudo-democratic,
demagogic, territory-worshipping nation.

Saturday 11 June 2016

My friend Tina

sent me her photo of this carving
high up on the corner of St Faith's church at Overbury
in Worcestershire.

I observed that this medieval grotesque (with teeth)
is pulling the toothy mouth of a Blemya-like mask on her belly -
which could also be a vagina dentata...

"The mind boggles," she replied.

I wrote back:
                        "My mind spends most of its time boggling.
Maybe it is the same as 'Meditation' - but nobody is saying...

Friday 10 June 2016


Cain killed Abel.
Romulus killed Remus.
That's it, 'in a nutshell'.
All else, such as
the blinding of Polyphemus,
is just embroidery.

Thursday 9 June 2016

A restaurant

is much like a brothel:
accepting money for temporary,
superficial pleasure
it is value for money but rarely.

Wednesday 8 June 2016

Vicious Cycle

Stress makes animals
especially humans
which stresses others...
thus creating

Tuesday 7 June 2016

Devised by American Intelligence:

the possible faces of Adolf Hitler
- should he have gone on the run in 1945
instead of killing himself.

Monday 6 June 2016


and what in Ireland we
call Devilment
are much more fun
than cleanliness
or religious bamboozlement.

Sunday 5 June 2016

Long, slow globalisation

The Latgalians
the Semigallians
the Selonians
the Curonians
the Skalvians
the Sambians
the Natangians
the Warmians
the Pogesanians
the Bartians
the Nadruvians
the Aukštaitians
and the Yotvingians
also known as the Sudovians
- along with thousands
of other 'ethnicities'
including the Tasmanians,
the Huns, the Picts
and the Magdalenians -
are (alas ?)
no longer with us.

Friday 3 June 2016

Thursday 2 June 2016

Progress, God, Truth, Work,

pleasure, life, time -
everything is illusion
if we believe in it.
Reality exists only
outside our minds.

Wednesday 1 June 2016

Poems of the Month : Jim Benz

June's Poems of the Month
on my Beyond-the-Pale website
are by the fine American poet Jim Benz,
a follower of this blog.

You can read them now at

Terms of Agreement:
By reading these poem you understand that I, hereinunder known as "The Blogger", am re-publishing them without permission from The Poet, and, moreover, you agree to the following terms: 1) You MAY NOT use this poem for your own pleasure, nor may you relate it to the works of Abū Rayhān Bīrūnī. 2) You MAY NOT redistribute the elements of this poem (for example, in a blender) without written permission from the Nantong Ronghui Machine Company Ltd. 3) You MAY link this poem to any sexual deviance you wish, but ONLY if it is NOT wrapped in cellophane. 4) You WILL abide by any philosophical statement inserted into this poem at a later date, regardless of logical coherence or uropatagium. 5) Online payment via PayPal is the preferred method of subscription to this poem. Payment is due in advance for access to premium services, including web piracy.

Now read Jim's Blog 
Then write and ask him why he hasn't updated it recently.

People talk about the 'Protestant' work-ethic,

when they mean the Puritan - or work-worshipping - ethic
which lies deep in monastic Christianity, in Roman, Jewish
and all created history.
It was the work-ethic that built ziggurats and pyramids,
canals, Ur and Babylon, rhetoric and revelation,
the Temples of Jerusalem, India and pre-Columbian America,
Dubai, the Dome on the Rock, the Great Wall of China,
representative democracies, language,
Stonehenge and the Vatican
 - all the ever-crumbling, planet-warming vanity of Man.