EPILOGUE
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Without academic standing and personal connections no writer or poet has a snow flake's chance in hell of getting published by any successful mainstream or university press. The so-called "marketplace of ideas" is actually closed by the presumption that great writing cannot possibly emanate from anywhere else than among those who are college educated and therefore "enlightened", a prejudice cast in the stone and steel of office buidings owned and operated by universities and publishing houses around the World. Self-publishing is, therefore, the last resort of poor writers and poets before succumbing to complete social oblivion. It is a lonely path, especially when friends and family say nothing to encourage or discourage what they have been taught to regard as literary pretention. Faced with such a wall of silence, perhaps many have spared themselves the torment of hopeless struggling - except for a few like me who just cannot leave it alone, the yearning to speak and be heard overwhelming all common sense. So, here was one voice, lost in a global mass society of seven billion and counting. If our modern civilization survives its madness, perhaps someday a scholar or collector will notice - and perhaps not. It is beyond my vision. |