September 20th, 2008 posted by Bender Rodríguez
As a kid, Saturday morning meant one thing: cartoons. Remember that quiet time just after sunrise, when your parents were still asleep? You'd wake up early, maybe pour yourself a bowl of cereal, turn on the tube, and get lost in a universe of the implausible. From an interview with poet Billy Collins on American Public Media's Weekend America. Before he was twice appointed U.S. Poet Laureate, before he'd won awards and written volumes of poetry, Billy Collins was just a boy sitting in front of a black-and-white TV.
Maybe the indirect influences are more benign. Because the direct influences, as a poet, are always accompanied by jealousy. You know, you could even substitute the word "jealousy" for literary influence. "Literary influence" is what the professors call it in the classroom, but actually the emotional experience of it is envy. Writers would not be moved to emulation unless they were envious of previous writers. So the little propeller that drives creative work - you can't see it because it's under the water - the little propeller is jealousy. And that's what keeps the arts moving. But don't tell anybody!
The opening theme to "Looney Tunes Merrie Melodies" cartoons is kind of like "The Star-Spangled Banner" for a lot of children of my generation. You'd hear those opening notes, and the glockenspiel kind of cuts in there, adding some extra zaniness. You would be brought to full attention because you knew you'd be treated by this world of animation that was so delightful, and so different from the normal world in which you were plodding around as a kid, scraping your knees and getting into all sorts of trouble.
"Any advertisement in public space that gives you no choice whether you see it or not is yours. It belongs to you. It's yours to take, re-arrange, and re-use. Asking for permission is like asking to keep a rock someone just threw at your head."
Banksy