Jeffrey Alexander Martin

My default perspective of people is that they're nice. That doesn't particularly hold true if you compare things to history, or other cultures, or even all of my own experience. I've had my life threatened many times, I've been shot at, had someone try to stab me, been successfully poisoned in Africa, have had money stolen, been lied to and betrayed, been lied about, and I've been conned a few times. I've largely ignored this contradiction because I didn't know how to reconcile it. But, the last 16 months have held it in my awareness so consistently that I need to confront my ideas about the niceness of people. Today is a good example. I decided to go for a walk at Lake Harbor Park to clear my head. It's been a drizzly day, which I like. With an overcast sky blocking out the sun, the park wasn't too busy, which I also like. I took a trail that isn't the most popular. You walk up a small incline of sand, and then turn down a narrow ravine wit...

Life is full of choices. Sometimes it's hard to know which choice is correct. Still, a path must be chosen. In Dalton Township, the choice is clear. Everyone is asking themselves, "What do I want to see happen in Dalton Township?" Here's what I think needs to happen. Real Choice We won! We have a real election happening this year. That hasn't happened in Dalton in a long time. Elections are one of the most important checks and balances in politics. A balance of power, and checks upon that power, are essential to protecting and defending individual rights. In Dalton, that will start with a choice by the people about who will be in office. Making that choice available is a civic duty. A burden that must be carried by a willing volunteer. Sixteen months ago I said that there would be a choice in this election. And there is. Restore Checks and Balances Make transparency and the Open Meetings Act a priority by broadcasting and recording meetings. Bef...

If you're writing a story without a plan, and you're writing it with someone else, you never know which way it's going to go. After I finished my class with Tima I sent the story we had written to a friend. She read it and responded that it is a "terrifying story", and she's right. Tima went a little wild, and I let things escalate. - - - - - - - Jed sat upon the mountain cliff, looking down over the thick treetops below him. And saw there a big and bad bear. Jed remembered the words of his father, "If you see a bear, take out your knife and kill it." But bear already had his own knife, and attacked. This bear was a terrorist. Jed dug his feet into the ground, adjusted the knife in his hand, and then leapt forward to meet his destiny. At this moment he slipped and fell into the mouth of the bear. And the bear ate Jed. Arnold the bear put his knife away. He always wanted to use it, but never seemed to need anything other than his claws...

From one perspective you see a thing. From another perspective you can see the same thing, and it looks completely different. This applies to all of existence, even in total. (For those who want more on that, you can read this poem, and you can also lookup Viktor Frankl's concept of dimensional ontology.) Read it, then I'll explain, just a little. - - - - - - - I have seen many moons, or rather; Fortuna has opportuned me, with such a possibility. But I, in my infinite imprudence, have largely failed to notice the passing. Worlds turning, Time's twisted fate, weaving a single thread, from disparate fibers all asunder. Chaos in the details, and order above, or rather; I have seen many moons. - - - - - - - Many moons refers to the passing of a lot of time. Fortuna is the ancient Roman goddess of luck, and a lot of time is a lucky gift. If we're not consciously aware then this time passes us by. Planets turn, whic...

Our minds and souls are mysteries. To others, yes, and even to ourselves. There are different ways of penetrating that veil. They often involve peering through our own darkness, to symbols hidden within our depths. One day, laying alone in bed, I had an unusual vision of a tree. There was obviously something special about it, something magical, but I wasn't sure what. So, this poem popped out. - - - - - - - I saw a tree at night, not with my eyes in some failing light, but bright with dark illumination, in my mind, a thing both eerie and ripe with divine inspiration. But, what kind? A world tree, giving birth to both you and me? A tree of knowledge, taking us to the brink of wisdom's edge? A tree of life, giving us the gifted opportunity of confronting strife? Or a tree of good and evil? Symbolic mysteries abound, rising up around us, rising up within us, why do we force them down? Revelations are revealed, if we look with unseeing eyes, thro...

Words are magical. They can transport you, inspire you, crush you, revive you. They communicate love and hate. And they communicate the experience of love and hate. You can live another life in a book, you can experience an entire range of emotions in a poem. This is a fun poem about experiencing a book. - - - - - - - I went for a walk in a book, over fields of description, and forests of exposition. Narration lulled my sense of unease, metaphor and analogy played and did tease. I took a wrong turn at alliteration, lost my way at rhyme and had some hesitation. Two devices I did see. They distracted while dialogue took a bite at me. I flashed back in time, and sprung forward again. I was dazzled by sensations, tickled by character revelations, and thrown by the thrills of plot innovations. To walk through a book is no easy task, the point is not the finish. The point, is to bask. - - - - - - - There are two basic sets of devices that you can think ab...

This poem is literal and metaphorical, concrete and abstract. And there is one line that is debatable. I read this poem to my mother. She liked it. But that last line, well... she wasn't so sure about that. I'll let you read it and see what I mean. - - - - - - - I went searching in a field, for a small piece of happiness. I watched as the light shimmered across the waves of grass. I watched as the wind rolled across crests of golden froth. I watched a bird on the wing, flying free. I watched a rock, immovable. A butterfly, unpredictable. A sun untouchable. Air ungraspable. A future unknowable. I went searching in a field for a small piece of happiness, and found it there, unsavable. - - - - - - - Oh yeah! I know there'll be questions about my use of commas. I intentionally put the commas where I did. They are to indicate pacing. The sets of lines that do not have commas are read toge...

I was chatting with a friend online a couple of months ago and they mentioned that it must be difficult for me, having some of my health issues and such. I wrote a poem to comfort her. I think it helped. - - - - - - - Do not lament, the burdens thrust upon me by life. Examine the ledger more closely. Seek to find the common denominator, and the balance will reveal itself to you. These things that bind me, are mine. When or where it was begun, was not my choice, but ever after, was. The accumulation of life, the revelation of personal limitation, is the thing itself. - - - - - - - This poem thought about continuing. - - - - - - - I do not lament, my non-pursuit of wealth, my failing health, ... - - - - - - - But I crossed that off and left it as is. ________________________________________________ If you like this, check out  JeffThinks.com  or  JeffreyAlexanderMartin.com

I have a confession. Sometimes I write poetry. More often, it tumbles through my mind without me writing it down, and it simply fades away. When I do write it down it's usually on random slips of paper that end up... somewhere. And when it ends up in a notebook, still no one usually sees it. Every now and then I send some to people in private messages. But rarely. Last year I did a small burst of going to open mic nights and doing readings. It was fun. But for some reason I really just seem to write poetry for myself. I had a girlfriend about a decade ago that I used to text love poems to every now and then. She liked them, a lot. But she never believed that I had written them. She thought they were too good. Probably a good indication of a bad future for that relationship. Both the girl and the poems are lost to the devouring maw of time now. For instance, here's a little poem that I did last December. I happened to send it to someone, and that's the only reason I have a r...

Kids' stories seem simple. But, they are deceptively complex. Tima seemed a little jaded with the kids' stories we've been reading. He is in his twenties. But, they're a lot more fun than a textbook, and they're better for learning in a lot of ways. Sometimes I forget that other people don't see all of the meaning that I do. It's a good idea to show people how to look deeper. There are entire cultures that miss the true meaning of their most famous and foundational stories. (I'll do an article on the maiden tower stories from the Middle East at some point, which is a good example.) "The Three Little Pigs" is a story that everyone knows. But I've never heard anyone other than me seriously discuss it. Here are some of the notes I took from the conversation Tima and I had about the story. - - - - - - - What's the moral of the story? Or, the meaning of the story? build a strong house don't build a weak house wolves like ...

I recently attended a high school graduation party for the daughter of a friend of mine. Different people choose different ways to memorialize such events. Her older sister had everyone sign a chair when she graduated. It's a cool idea, but apparently there have been some logistical concerns of where to put it since then. So, on this occasion, a book was chosen. I, of course, like books. It's perfectly fine to just put your name down, and maybe a simple statement like "Good job!" or "Good luck!" But, I wanted to try for something that would be memorable and different. Something that could potentially act as a bulwark during those moments when you need such a thing. Perhaps it's too much to shoot for in a graduation book that you haven't prepared for or thought about. Nevertheless, I might have done it. - - - - - - - Life goes up, Life goes down, Life is all around. - - - - - - - When I read this here's what I think. "'Lif...

Freedom is gained or lost with every generation. But sometimes there are key moments. A small series of events that have a huge impact on the trajectory of the world. Hong Kong, right now, is having one of those moments. Hong Kong has a great history of freedom, prosperity, and bravery. A history that China has been working hard to destroy for the past 20 years. Hong Kongers have resisted the tyrannical Chinese oppression. This came to worldwide attention in 2014 with the Umbrella Movement against China interfering in and corrupting Hong Kong elections. A tyrannical system has two options when encountering resistance: increase oppression, or adapt. China has chosen again and again to increase oppression in Hong Kong. In 2019 they pushed a law taking away Hong Kong courts, so that people from Hong Kong would be taken to mainland China for so-called trials. Millions of people in Hong Kong marched in the streets against these clear violations of basic rights. China feigned adapti...

A real election is happening in Dalton Township. A real election with real choices. And that's a huge win. Elections are one of the most important parts of a system of checks and balances. And without checks and balances, individual rights are never protected. Dalton hasn't been having real elections. Whoever would run as a Democrat would simply win uncontested. The single party decided all positions of political power in the township. A rumor had even been started that no one other than a Democrat could run in Dalton. I broke through that myth when I filed for office. Others followed, and now we have a ballot full of options, for the will of the people to reveal itself. Personally, I do not think this is a small step, I think this a gigantic leap forward for Dalton. There are two more important leaps: replacing people on the board, and then making positive policy changes. And that process has already begun by having an election the way that it is supposed to happen. ...

Most twelve-year-old boys aren't really into poetry. Liming is no different. And, I don't understand how poetry even works in the Chinese language. Their spoken language is tonal, meaning when you change the sound you change the word. And their written language is logographic, meaning their symbols evolved from pictures representing whole words. But Liming is fluent in English, so we tackled the prose versus poetry issue anyway. I like to generate examples for things in the moment, off the cuff. It's a fun challenge. And it's often a good way to compare things. For instance, I was telling Liming about how I've been reading poetry from John Keats and Ovid recently. I inquired into his understanding of poetry, and there is an almost complete absence of exposure. He reads a lot of prose though. I decided to take a basic sentence in prose and show him what the same idea might look like in a poetical form. Here's the sentence in prose. - - - - - - - The sun...

The word monarchy comes from Greek and means "one ruler". It's an old form of government, and it's new again. In a monarchy the authority of law emanates from the king or queen. This is opposed to the idea of natural and individual rights. And the similarities between how the government in Michigan is currently operating, and a medieval monarchy, are quite striking. In a monarchy the queen issues edicts. Laws that she makes whenever, wherever, and however she wants. In Michigan, Queen Whitmer calls them executive orders. And she's issued over 100 in the last three months. In a monarchy you must live by the whim of the sovereign. In Michigan, the same. In a classic monarchy there isn't a congress in the way the United States has traditionally had a congress, designated as the branch of the government with the power to make and change laws. That power is held by the queen. Instead, the queen has an advisory council that can suggest things, and she thin...

History has discernible patterns. As an example, this is John Ponet writing in the year 1556. He's talking about William the Conqueror in 1066. "He spoiled the nobility of their goods and possessions, made them slaves, and his own slaves lords: and upon the commoners he put immense taxes and impositions. He took from the people their weapons and harness, and made a law that no man should come out of his house after [eight o’clock]..." (Short Treatise on Political Power) These same tactics occur in every age. The tendency toward forms of government also has patterns. Patterns of power. Niccolo Machiavelli describes the classic cycle in his "Discourses on Livy". A single ruler is able to unite people and is thus a king. The next few generations become tyrannical kings. Nobles resist and overthrow the tyrant. The next few generations become tyrannical oligarchs. A populist movement rises up and overthrows the oligarchs. The leader becomes a king, and...

You don't know what's going to happen when you write. That's doubly true when you're co-writing with a kid. Vera is an eight-year-old girl from Russia who likes English, and is good at it, but finds her class in school to be the normal form of boring. She likes dolphins, break-dancing, and math. This is the first story she's ever written in English. I started, then we alternated, going over changes and corrections along the way. - - - - - - - Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a small dragon sleeping in a cave. He had a son. And he had a lot of food. But, there was a problem. His son wouldn't stop growing. He was already twice the size of the father, and he wasn't slowing down. One day the son was gone. The father sought him everywhere, but he couldn't find him. As he was walking home he heard some laughter from nearby. As he peeked through the bushes he couldn't believe his eyes. He saw a dolphin dancing with his son. Th...

Fiction writing has a higher level of technical skill at both the stylistic and structural levels. That can be useful. If you've never written a story before, it can be intimidating to do. That's especially true if English isn't your native language, and you live in a non-English speaking country. I have helped a lot of people break through that barrier. I seem to have a bit of a knack for it, and I find it fun. Maksim is a middle-aged family man from Belarus that does online marketing for a large computer gaming company. He likes soccer, has some expensive guitars, and is making a music app. And, he was a little skeptical about writing fiction. I could tell. We did it anyway, and it went well. I started, and then we alternated. - - - - - - - Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived an old man. He went for a walk in the woods everyday at noon. He walked the same path, in the same way. Looked at the same trees, and across the same lake. Everything was ...

I recently sent a few documents to a 13-year-old girl that is intelligent, but is annoyed by reading long texts that take too long to get to the point. I've read thousands of books, and the more I read the more I value writing that can change your perspective on the world in just a few pages. My book list is always changing. I update it every few days, but right now I have 388 things listed in 10 sections. Some of them are large book series. But, some of them are small. Some, very small. So I looked through my list and pulled out a few small things that I thought might surprise her as to how valuable a small work can be. My selection was excellent. But, there were too many things. And, even though they were smaller than you would think, some of them could still be considered a book. I wanted to make the list smaller, and I wanted the works to be smaller. I went through it again. This time I guessed at how long each work was and included the length. I got it down to 20 item...