Another Brief Hiatus…

Last time we here at Brad OH Inc. took a hiatus, it was on account of an unavoidable adventure over in England. Well, we’ll be off on another quick break, and this time it’s for at least as good of a reason.

As mentioned previously, Brad OH Inc.’s debut novel, ‘Edgar’s Worst Sunday’ will soon be published by Sands Press. Well, we’re in the thick of it now, and will be working on edits for the foreseeable future.

We’ll keep you updated, and resume regular postings as soon as possible.

Until then, read a book.

Your Favourite Corporate Person,

-Brad OH Inc.

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Where the Children Sleep

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Over here, the children sleep,

In warm and comfy beds,

They dream of games and food and joy,

And peace is in their heads.

Will they see their friends at school?

Will they see a parade?

Will their parents yell today?

Or will their anger fade?

Over there, the children sleep,

On ground filthy and cold,

Will they have the same tomorrow?

Perchance will they be sold?

Will they have friends remaining,

When the bombs somehow bring peace?

Will their parents hold them tight,

or dying will they cease?

Yet we continue on our way,

Dividing here and there,

With more than enough to go around,

And make it ‘us’, everywhere.

Around the world, the children sleep,

The darkening night away,

And do they dream in that deep sleep,

About a better day?

 

-Brad OH Inc.

Rhapsody

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Civil discourse these days has become pretty uncommon. You’ll rarely hear a debate that doesn’t soon slip into name calling and paranoid wailing.

It’s both sides.

Everyone is simply too afraid. Afraid of everything, yet somehow afraid of all the wrong things.

That fear is the problem, and it stunts any level of intelligent discourse by wheeling us into knee-jerk reactions and assumptions—making our conclusions for us. When angry and afraid, you go with what you know: Red or Blue.

That’s the thing about political thought however, it never quite fits into a single definition. Try as they may, there is no binary option that can capture the nuance of human belief—of our values.

Values, now there’s a word that’s thrown around a lot in politics, yet never really utilized the way it should be. Values, after all, are what it really comes down to. The truth of it is, I strongly suspect that a measure of fundamental values would show a far less divided picture of humanity than a typical measure of political preferences.

Behind the rhetoric and uproar, there do remain basic rights and wrongs, and obvious decencies which I still believe the vast majority of people can agree upon. These are values which go beyond culture and language.

They are innate to us, and are denied only by the most wretched of deviants, or those desperate souls who by poverty or avarice have found themselves denied entirely of their moral compass.

What would happen then, if people were to put aside their labels and colours—the brand names of political philosophy—and turn away from their hot button issues to discuss instead the basic values they hold dear.

No loose terms like freedom here. Tell me what that really means.

What do you love?

What do you fear?

What do you hate?

Do you realize the last answer is most likely the twisted spawn of some unknowable combination of the former two?

Or that the second closely follows the first?

Really though. If the world at large could manage such civil debate for a while—I mean really keep it going, get deep, and avoid falling back into the ‘yeah but’ type thinking which somehow convinces us that the forces of reality must in the end overwhelm the deepest of truths—what might be the result?

And what would you have to say?

-Brad OH Inc.

Gethsemane

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

In light of the season, a re-share of an old post.

Gethsemane

The green of the trees,

Had passed to grey,

In the deepening dark of night.

I stood waiting,

For you to show,

And knew I would not fight.

I’d seen it all,

What was to come,

We had our roles to play.

To bring it here,

To share those words,

Then sweep it all away.

For no act’s worth,

Is known until,

The final die is cast.

We’d built this house,

And raised it high,

But now to make it last.

The night was still,

The rest were calm,

When you came through the gate.

With fear and fire,

You kissed my lips,

And forever sealed our fate.

-Brad OH Inc.

Interview with ‘Edmonton: Unbound’ Author M. Lea Kulmatycki

Today, the Edmonton Writers’ Group is happy to share that our new anthology, Edmonton: Unbound, is now available for purchase in the giftshop of the Muttart Conservatory.

But wait, there’s more! Author’s of Edmonton: Unbound will be at the ‘Poets and Writers Networking Event’ on April 6th from 6:00-9:00pm at the Strathcona Place Centre, 10831 University Ave, Edmonton, AB.

We’ll be there to network, sell, and even sign books. So be sure to stop by, enjoy the event, and grab a copy of Edmonton: Unbound if you haven’t managed to do so yet.

Edmonton: Unbound’ contains fourteen stories by twelve members of the Edmonton Writers’ Group.

They are unified only by the common theme of their current hometown, Edmonton, AB. Ranging from simple domestic interactions, to futuristic sci-fi adventures, to deep psychological introspections, these stories take a look at Edmonton from viewpoints as different as the writers themselves. This anthology is a love letter to our hometown, and demonstrates our incredibly varied approaches to literature, and to life.

As a gesture of our gratitude, all proceeds from the sales of this book will be donated to the Edmonton Public Library, which has been gracious enough to host our humble group at the Capilano branch for over a decade and a half.

Click the Image to buy ‘Edmonton: Unbound’

To celebrate the upcoming event, we have an interview with one of the ‘Edmonton: Unbound’ authors, and the creator of our cover art, M. Lea Kulmatycki.

1. What was your initial inspiration for the story you included in this anthology, and how the story changed from its original conception?

Lea Kulmatycki: My brother worked as a day camp leader one summer during high school. One of the most difficult aspects of his job was getting his little campers on and off the bus at the same time. I never had this problem because the day camp I worked at was within walking distance of many cool attractions. I didn’t feel I could create enough material with a bus ride, so I changed it to a streetcar and decided Cal’s group of day campers would visit the museum. I took my day campers often to the Provincial Museum and Archives of Alberta. The kids loved it.

2. What difficulties did you encounter while writing this story, other than finding the time to do it?

Lea Kulmatycki: The research involved. The museum moved from its original location and it was difficult to find the specific information I required to insure as much authenticity as possible.

3. What research did you do with regard to the story?

Lea Kulmatycki: While the story is historical “fiction”, I tried to represent the “history” as accurately as possible. There was a lot of research involved!

4. Are you writer that plots out all the different angles, or are you more free-form. Why do you think you write this way?

Lea Kulmatycki: I’m probably a mix between the two. I start with an idea and then I plan out the first chapter/part of the story. At the same time I’m mulling over the ending. Once I have these two pieces, I start writing and let the story take its course. I don’t even start to write a story if I don’t have a solid idea for these two parts. I spend an eternity working on the first chapter/part of a story. This is where I establish voice, organization, etc. Once I’m happy with the first chapter, the rest seems to flow.

5. What is your typical response to “writers’ block”?

Lea Kulmatycki: I’ve stopped worrying about it. Instead of sitting and looking at a blank page or writing to just write, I do something else. However, my mind is always focused on thinking of ways to iron out the particular problem that has me stumped. Teaching doesn’t leave me much time to write, so driving to and from school is also great time to work out story problems.

Lea Kulmatycki’s story, “So What Did I Do This Summer?”, is featured in ‘Edmonton: Unbound’, which you can purchase now on Amazon.

Remember to stop by and catch us at the ‘Poets and Writers Networking Event’ on April 6th from 6-9:00pm at the Strathcona Place Centre, 10831 University Ave, Edmonton, AB.

-Brad OH Inc.

The Evocation Series- ‘The Ants Go Marching’

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

The following post is part of ‘The Evocation Series’. Click Here for more information about the project, and to learn how to get involved yourself!

Nursery Rhyme- ‘The Ants Go Marching’

Song Link

It’s been stormy lately. The clouds gathered, and held overlong, until they finally released. Now, the rains sweep the sidewalks and playgrounds, drenching and destroying all that they pass.

Before them, the young ones are driven to flee, to seek protection in places where it is their natural right to feel entirely protected.

The ants go marching one by one

Hurrah, hurrah

The ants go marching one by one

Hurrah, hurrah

Of course, a thing like that can be easy to ignore. They are only ants, after all. Ants, or children, or women, or elderly, or the lower class. None of them are of any account to the storm.

But lately, they’ve been learning to work together.

The ants go marching four by four

Hurrah, hurrah

The ants go marching four by four

Hurrah, hurrah

There are few things more repulsive than ants on the move. Acting as if they have a place to be, as if their opinions or lives are of comparable worth to the tides and the clouds—the immutable forces of nature.

So, the clouds appeal to virtue, and cry out their right to rain, to flood and wipe out what has been in the name of what they claim.

Their cries come as the thunderclap, yet their aspirations lay bare their false faith. But when these high-minded appeals are taken up by the ants, they ring the truer.

The ants go marching seven by seven

The little one stops to pray to heaven

And they all go marching down to the ground to get out of the rain

Boom boom boom

Then finally, the clouds have nothing more to say. They have spent their energy with no thought of others, and now they find themselves old and empty. Once dark and tall and terrible, they are wisps of their former selves, and no longer must the ants look to them to read their fate.

The clouds have been forgotten, and the deep burrowed dens of the ants have only served to bring them all together.

The rain waters evaporate, and the threat of the storm passes into a fresh, life-asserting calm.

The ants go marching ten by ten

Hurrah, hurrah

The ants go marching ten by ten

Hurrah, hurrah

The ants go marching ten by ten

The little one stops to shout, “The End!”

Will there finally be a rainbow?

*This article is dedicated to the youth across America—who stand now in defiance of those who would see them dead for a little more spending money. It is their will to defy their elders, to ignore entrenched ignorance and light a new way forward, that now represents the greatest hope for that once proud nation.

Never stop.

-Brad OH Inc.

On Misanthropy

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Misanthropy

[mis-an-thruh-pee, miz-]

noun

  1. hatred, dislike, or distrust of humankind.

I’ve been accused of it before, and I can certainly see where the assumption might stem from. After all, I spend a fair bit of my time on this blog ranting about the failings, shortcomings, and general depravity that are the human condition.

In truth though, I really don’t consider myself a misanthrope. I’m seldom shocked by people’s endless travesties, nor occasional decencies. But the distrust part is probably fair—the endless flow of disappointment and decay witnessed on any social media or news channel should be enough to ingrain a deep-seated distrust of people in anyone paying even an iota of attention.

It’s the distrust though, and not the hatred or dislike, which serves as the base of any misanthropy I might exhibit. Maybe disappointment is the more accurate word. To me, the categories seem to border on mutually exclusive.

To hate or even dislike humankind, one would expect little of them, and demand even less. For me, it is the opposite.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I find myself harbouring an unshakeable love and optimism for humanity. I believe in our potential whole-heartedly, and am in awe to imagine the heights of virtue, justice, and wonder we could aspire to if only unburdened of our pride and avarice.

It is this hope for and faith in our potential which keeps my outlook on the dark side—my gestating joy clouded constantly by the disappointment of reality and our inability to rise above the pettiness and fearful indecency which has mired us in the same patterns our entire existence.

This dismal divide has been the guiding force behind most of my writing, and continues to be the driving factor behind many of my choices and actions. It is a subtle push, a shivering hope, that we may eventually see the day that humankind ceases to fear, and stands no longer in dereliction of our innate potential, but rise instead to be the glorious, luminous beings that are and always have been our truest nature.

-Brad OH Inc.