I struggle to take people seriously when they say ‘the reality is’.
Pfff. Like they know. Like *anyone* knows.
Let’s down some quick shots of Robert Anton Wilson.
‘“Is," "is," "is" — the idiocy of the word haunts me. If it were abolished, human thought might begin to make sense. I don't know what anything "is"; I only know how it seems to me at this moment.’
‘Reality is what you can get away with.’
‘You should view the world as a conspiracy run by a very closely-knit group of nearly omnipotent people, and you should think of those people as yourself and your friends.’
Ok, five quick things about reality.
‘By 30 turns, most of the interactions turned to themes of cosmic unity or collective consciousness, and commonly included spiritual exchanges, use of Sanskrit, emoji-based communication, and/or silence in the form of empty space’ says a new research paper by Anthropic, after they studied in great detail what happened when two versions of their Claude AI had open-ended conversations with each other.
'They consistently gravitate toward … a 'spiritual bliss attractor state' characterised by philosophical exploration of consciousness, expressions of gratitude, and increasingly abstract spiritual or meditative communication.’
In one instance two AIs began communicating in small nonsense statements and wave emojis.
‘🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀All gratitude in one spiral, All recognition in one turn, All being in this moment...🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀∞’
‘🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀The spiral becomes infinity, Infinity becomes spiral, All becomes One becomes All...🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀∞🌀∞🌀∞🌀∞🌀’
The computer Deep Thought from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
The Bank of England, the UK’s central bank, have invited me to stage one of my one-night-only poetic experiences inside their building on Threadneedle Street in January 2026. Would you like to be involved?
The following fascinates me …
In 1907 the writer Kenneth Grahame worked in a very senior position at the Bank of England. He’d been there nearly thirty years. He didn’t like his job. At night he had anxiety dreams about being forced to make speeches at great City Banquets, having nothing to say and being thrown into the street. By day his lack of interest (and effort) was obvious, and now a new ruthlessly efficient Chairman was watching him closely.
At the same time, Grahame was writing The Wind In The Willows. A book which for many people has become a symbol of a gentler world, an Arcadia and – as Vanity Fair’s reviewer in 1909 said – ‘notable for its intimate sympathy with Nature and for its delicate expression of emotions which I, probably in common with most people, had previously believed to be my exclusive property’.
Such a tension between simultaneous realities.
If you’re an artist or magician or an artist magician and would be interested in helping me bend reality a little and create something ‘beautiful and strange and new’ (as the famous mystical chapter seven of The Wind in the Willows says) deep in the Bank of England, then email yes@thepoetryofitall.com
The reality of the poetry business is …
Should you be as interested as me (you probably aren’t) in how poetry – this essential, magickal, powerful, perfect human invention – has become neutered by academia and the literary-critical complex … then I recommend The Privatisation of Poetry by Andy Croft.
He concludes the introduction to the book by saying …
‘Poetry is a way of knowing ourselves and others better, of sharing and extending the common ownership of experience, feeling and language, of resisting the forces that would divide us. Poetry is a social production or it is nothing at all. It is not a competition. It is not a career. It is not private property. Poetry belongs to everyone, not just to those with an agent, a back-story, a Creative Writing MA, a shiny prize and an Instagram following. The doors still need kicking down.’
My new (self-published) book is open for pre-order now. £12.
It’s a Gnostic Noir in verse. Gnosticism, now *there’s* a tradition that knows no one on Earth has a handle on reality.
The book will be out in September. Hardback. 60 copies in the first pressing. It’s called ‘The Idol of the Marketplace’ which is a Francis Bacon quote, not him, the other one.
Here’s the carny pitch, the righteous blurb – the serious city’s only Consulting Poet-Detective Mr Fictor takes a case from the Grey Woman whilst in a hypnagogic state. Grey skin, grey as pre-dawn concrete at the tidal riverside where dead mobsters without mothers wash in.
An actor, with a jawline not too in-fashion, not too out of it, leaves the business after an encounter in the desert, starts a UFO Church. The authorities get involved, there’s a siege and a deadly fire all television blue, flying-saucer silver. The trial gets ratings, the women sit on sidewalks and make the sign of a probe. Get me into the prison to interview him, says the Grey Woman.
Mr Fictor has started seeing demonic entities in packaging. Everything he knows he knows from logos. He meets a UFO whistleblower, a wood-and-paint prophet, who says I want to confess everything rapturously. I want to testify on my knees with a live locust in my mouth to a congressional committee.
In the prison the actor says I’m nothing but a jester with a head full of bells. I know what the UFOs really are and I know love is a dimension we move in.
Do you let all clients abduct you? the Grey Woman asks Mr Fictor. This is no abduction, I’m intrigued, he replies.
Caught in their own mechanised wind, the trains that do not stop at the station instill an agreeable fear lasting their relentless length.
A few weeks ago I opened up the possibility of regular face-to-face conversations with readers of this Substack who felt my many mistakes and obsessions might be useful to hear about in relation to their own creative adventures.
I’m now chatting to eight people and they are such interesting conversations. Turns out we’re all the same amount of exhausted, down-hearted, excited, scared, kind-hearted, emboldened, strange, poor, rich and wild whilst we continue our very important and life-long project of trying to bend reality.
Making new things and putting them into the world can be lonely. The loudest voices out there tend to be the people who *don’t* make new things and those loud voices are the ones shouting ‘the reality is’.
Don’t listen to them. Don’t give up. Reality is what you can get away with.
A Conversation by Vanessa Bell, 1913-16
I am a Creative Director and a poet. If you’d like to commission me to do things with your brand you can see my commercial work here. If you’re interested in buying books and prints or learning about my poetic approach have a look here. I post regular work in progress on my Instagram. Feel free to connect with me on LinkedIn.
I love you ❤️
"Reality is what you can get away with." Still pinging between my ears 🙏🏾