Members of the One Percent catch a snuggle at the theatre. The first wife’s gone and it’s time to rock.

What does the Occupy Movement want? 

It protests the actions of the One Percent.  But what is the One Percent?   Is life really that simple?

Of course it isn’t.

That’s why all of this is so stupid.

It’s serious.  It’s not something to be made fun of.  But it’s stupid all the same.

The 99% has a 1% contained within it—those malcontents and protestors who let the world know they don’t like the real 1%. 

The 98% will always shuffle along as best they can, never quite understanding what the other two—the wealthy one percent and the malcontent one percent are talking about.

Every now and then something earth-shaking occurs, and a really charismatic member of the malcontent one percent is accepted into the ranks of the wealthy one percent.

“Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s” is a hoary saying, but it contains an actual person’s name.  Can anything come of “let’s camp out at a park?’  Or next to “a bank?”

Generalized complaint finally leads to what?

Much has been written lately of the little tempest in a teapot in jolly ol’ England; two poets—who talent-wise clearly belong to the 99%— have withdrawn their short-listed 2011 poetry collections from the T.S. Eliot Prize competition.  The sponsoring organization of the most prestigious poetry prize in Britain, something calling itself the Poetry Book Society, is now funded by a private investment firm, for it turns out the Arts Council England has recently dumped the Poetry Book Society from their National portfolio.  It seems the prestigious prize is not so important to the Arts Council. 

Why not?

Valerie Eliot is still living.   She donates the 15,000 pound annual prize money for the T.S. Eliot prize.

The slobby 98% may be buzzing about the two poets of the 99%, John and Alice, I believe they’re called, complaining about “capitalism” [let’s go to a “park” and protest “capitalism!”]

But here’s what the real One Percent is saying:   “How dare they insult Val, Tom’s wife!  The nerve!  She gives the money for the award, now doesn’t she?”

Cats pushed the Eliots into the One Percent; that’s why the Eliot Prize exists.

Speaking of Capitalism and its ‘Hidden Hand:’

Macavity’s a Mystery Cat: he’s called the Hidden Paw,
For he’s the master criminal who can defy the law!

Speaking of the law and protests and malcontents, here’s an excerpt of a recent piece we found on the blog Montevidayo that well, kind of scares us:

The fundamental components of poetry are power, risk, and resistance. A poetic situation is one in which there exists a process of resistance within a field of power. This situation necessarily creates risk, and risk is what turns death into life and life into death: it sets power free or releases it from bondage, so to speak, by raising the stakes to their limit. What results is always a catastrophe, and yet the catastrophe itself is neither right nor wrong, neither good nor evil. What we’re talking about here is the mechanism of revolt, or what Žižek (via Benjamin) identifies as “divine violence”. Divine violence does not judge; it annihilates. This is pure power. It’s egalitarian only in the sense that it serves no one and no thing. It wipes clean.

Within the context of a conventional poem, the field of power is the psychic energy channeled by the poet. This energy is contorted and amplified through a process of resistance to what the poet wants to say. The stronger the resistance, the greater the risk. What the poet risks is 1) failure and 2) the consequences of not failing. Either way, risk is a destabilizing and dislocating force. The reader will experience it as ecstasy, or anxiety, or laughter, or boredom, emptiness, etc., but the poem itself does not move its audience to act. What it does is reorient them so that action is once again possible. In other words, the poem is a product of intentional, uncalculated risk, and risk is a prerequite to, though not a gaurantee of, revolt.

“Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.”

This is a quote from famed occultist Aleister Crowley, whom I consider both a total clown and a real poet. For our purposes, what is relevant here is the whole of the law, which knows no risk; risk is what exists outside the law. There can be no turning of death into life (no resurrection) within the law. The law is made of rights, not risk. The moment you start talking about rights is the moment you have none. In other words, resistance is not resistance unless you risk everything by resisting the very concept of rights. Likewise, a poem that says what you want to say (that does “what thou wilt”) is not a poem. It’s a law. And an entire book of these non-poems is a system of death.

This is what the biggest assholes in Heaven have done. Globally speaking we are living within the worst book of non-poems possible. The book is getting worse. How much worse, and for how long, will depend on our collective efforts toward escalating a sustainable risk. If risk is what exists outside the law, the law is whatever serves the biggest assholes in Heaven. It’s their execution plan. It’s what keeps the Heavens from crashing to the Earth.

They say the world will end if we don’t follow their plan. This is not just a scare tactic (though it is that too); they are telling the truth. And our role, as human beings, is to seize this truth and do what we can to make it materialize. Our task, as poets, is to not fear failure or the consequences of not failing.

The world is the end of the world.

Obey the will of the Ninety Nine Percent! 

And Aleister Crowley.

And don’t forget the Hidden Paw!

But you’ll look in on dear Mrs. Eliot in case her tea gets cold, won’t you?

Meet the new T.S. Eliot Prize sponsor! Kevin Grundle, hedge fund manager and CEO of Aurum.  (Also goes by the name of Griddlebone.)


  1. tom said,

    December 12, 2011 at 11:03 pm

    Occupy. dear god, I don’t know what to make of it at this point. I’m glad it’s happening, but it is also rather stupid. You won’t find me in a fucking tent, or sitting still like a cockroach being ‘raided’!!!

    Yes, I found the Montevidayo mildly terrifying as well. Strangest to me was the way the sectioning was done – different compartments of thought that don’t really fit together logically but are presented as if. [In praise of the middle class -then-in praise of the one percent-then-in praise of a poet he is perhaps unconsciously mocking{another story}]. A playing of both sides of the “power”field – not as an open argument but as a herky-jerky half-illusion…In the end, it seems he is praising the system of death and the non-poems. How is that ‘resistance’??

    I just wanna go read some Wallace Stevens. I’m scawed…

    Ah well, s’pose the lot of us want our cake and to eat it too. I myself am feverishly working on my QUIXOTIC DOGS – hope it will take me over the top – into the clouds among the starry assholes of heaven!

    from my hoary jaw to yours,

    Steve Barron

  2. tom said,

    December 12, 2011 at 11:29 pm

    Also, fuck that montevidayo guy. The assholes in heaven think he’s a buttboy of the state. They sit around all day eating cake and laughing at him.

  3. tom said,

    December 12, 2011 at 11:43 pm

    Fuck the law, Fuck hokey-jokey Aleister Creepy-Crawly…

    Fuck the mystery cat!
    In his fedora he never calls ‘a hat’!
    In his chinese suit, he thinks he’s so cute
    But Urn’s a master criminal too

  4. December 13, 2011 at 2:41 am

    Timidly watch, even frightened follow the
    occurring sought success your fluttered strives
    to get richer & much burdened. Still I watch
    ashamed, for more even want you more
    while I seek less and less.

    Your houses grow larger with roofs and yards
    & more successfully; & wealth & bigger do
    you grow second san paku lower darkened
    eyes bloodied with stress and ever higher
    crawl & grow & more & bloated ask:
    “How can you live in such poverty?”
    “Well, shit,” says I, “I’m happy…you?”

    Copyright 2010 – Ponds and Lawns, New and Corrected Poems, Gary B. Fitzgerald

    • tom said,

      December 13, 2011 at 5:20 am

    • Nooch said,

      December 13, 2011 at 10:39 am

      Thanks Mr. F., your poem has utility —
      It comforts me in my downward mobility!

  5. Bill said,

    December 13, 2011 at 8:25 pm

    Nauseating stuff from Montevidayo, but in the tradition of Shelleyan delusions of grandeur about the centrality of the poet to the universe. Except M’s universe is Nietzschean-Dionysiac. The delusion seems to be based on taking literally the synecdoche of poetry standing for all language, and the synecdoche of language standing for all human action. The poet is made the exemplary and omnipotent human actor. Where is Aaron Babar when we need him–or maybe he is Montevidayo. As Nietzsche said: Since the old God is dead, I am prepared to rule the world.

    On Occupy, check out Hilaire Belloc’s The Servile State. What is needed is not to make us all slaves of the state instead of slaves of capital, but to distribute widely ownership of the means of production.

    • thomasbrady said,

      December 14, 2011 at 3:24 pm

      Hi Bill,

      Yea, Belloc at least brings a few facts and ideas to bear on the issue. People today are generally satisfied to rant. I don’t know Belloc too well, but he’s quite a figure…


  6. tom said,

    December 13, 2011 at 9:24 pm

    • tom said,

      December 14, 2011 at 12:04 am

      ^ This guy is above the text, crying down on all the Montevidayans who are too cool to come comment at the aesthetically repulsive old pukey Scarriet. Tears in heaven.

      • thomasbrady said,

        December 14, 2011 at 3:25 pm


        Say it aint so!

  7. Mabool said,

    December 14, 2011 at 9:05 pm

    Who is this guy Tom, aka Mallie? Go my second comment in your post of Nov 26, ADIEU TO QUAINT MODERNISM. My by-line there is a hot link to an author of 2006 vintage. I don’t think they are the same people, but there are similarities.

    • Anonymous said,

      December 14, 2011 at 10:09 pm

      It’s Macavity.

    • Mabool said,

      December 15, 2011 at 8:23 am

      Sorry, Tom, I don’t use Youtube. There is a a thing supposedly by Mallie, found by googling “mallie: spectacular consumption”. It is similar to the thing by Hernan Cortes that I put in the other Scarriet comment stream. These things are parodies of the academic manner, and both are pretty good, they get the job done. The Cortes item is the better of the two. For example, both move from a weak verb ( to be ) to a variety of strong verbs. Cortes manages the transition better. Separately, Cortes has no instances of the relative pronoun ‘which’, whereas Mallie has four. The which-connective is always a cop-out yet it is hard to avoid in expository writing. Cortes avoided it.

  8. tom said,

    December 15, 2011 at 8:44 am

    Whiches and cop-outs are best served dry. You can find more about this in my cookbook, ‘To Serve Man’.

    • Mabool said,

      December 15, 2011 at 2:51 pm

      The party is over anyway. Go to Silliman’s blog. Nothing but Youtube. There is a reason for this. The Internet is now Apps/Tweets/Facebook. When you pull up Silliman on your iPhone, all you get is audio/video. Which is a good thing because you can’t see text on an iPhone screen. Silliman’s message, if there is one, is audio. The iPhone can do that. A mainly text blog like Scarriet cannot exist in this environment. Go around the web and and you will find that poetry blogs are either shut down or getting no comments. It’s over.

      • December 15, 2011 at 3:27 pm

        But it does exist,
        And (at times) is funny—
        It don’t need ads
        And it don’t need money.

        It only needs love
        (Or at least attention)
        From Brady and others
        Too few to mention.

        • Mabool said,

          December 15, 2011 at 8:52 pm


      • thomasbrady said,

        December 15, 2011 at 9:37 pm

        But it’s so time-consuming and inconvenient to listen to or watch a file. I’d rather read. It’s the best way to get information. Silliman’s videos don’t interest me at all. It’s like having a TV on in a laundromat. Silliman’s blog is like no one’s there.

      • tom said,

        December 15, 2011 at 10:32 pm

        Oooooh ‘poetry blogs r dead’! Good one!

  9. tom said,

    December 15, 2011 at 10:40 pm

    They’ve been ‘dead’. It doesn’t matter – people still write and tumble and youtube. I don’t know how much “love” there is on the internet.

    The Mallie event really happened in 2004. That’s not even on the internet anymore; you can’t find it. And yes, that was thousands of years ago.

  10. Bill said,

    December 15, 2011 at 11:02 pm

    Video clips and soundfiles are too controlling. As if you contrived to trickle out words one at a time and made your audience sit waiting dumbly. While a reader can evaluate a page of text, then stay or move on.

  11. tom said,

    December 16, 2011 at 6:18 am

    I don’t see why one way of receiving information would be any more “controlling” than another. Either way, one has to fight a bit for ‘actual information’.

  12. thomasbrady said,

    December 18, 2011 at 12:29 am

    Mallie! Now I remember! From the old Foetry.com!

    When I googled “mallie on foetry” I came up with the following:


    Ah, the good old days…

  13. noochinator said,

    June 3, 2015 at 7:43 pm

    Ahhhh, yes, the 1 percent
    That the Occupiers are abhorrin’ —
    Will the Movement vote in 2016
    For President Lizzie Warren?

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