Alexander J. Cameron
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Juxtaposition
My most formative years were shaped by my mother and occasionally my Scottish uncles. They spoke "British" English, which is to say, they understood English like our brethren across the "pond". When they used the word 'juxtaposition', it was from the literal Latin and French, that is, the act of placing two objects side by side, or this near that. Even today, OED relies on this literal, juxta from Latin means nearby, and position from the French requires little translation as it is the same in English. I was an incorrigible child so I might have remarked on the juxtaposition of classroom desks or stores in a shopping plaza. Rightly, my elementary school classmates barely tolerated me. But, as I grew older, teachers would correct my misuse of the word. In America, juxtaposition is things/persons/ideas placed side by side to emphasize the contrast of one to the others – the hero and the villain, for example. I rarely commend American English on making improvements to an already robust British one, however this might be a good illustration. If I want to talk about you and me at a hockey game, to describe our arrangement as a juxtaposition is being haughty, superior, condescending to the listener. A simple, “we were sitting side by side” or even simpler, “we were together” will do the trick. Most people would paint the correct mental picture. This leaves juxtaposition without a home in England. Why would I use it as it serves no purpose except to annoy?
By Alexander J. Cameron4 years ago in Humans
The Goddess Chronicles
Here am I, Aesacus, flying, then diving, then reemerging, repeating a pattern that has defined my own personal hell for millennia. I was not always a cormorant, nor did I choose to be one. My story is a footnote to the history that I will tell here. If I am honest, my mortal life was not much more heavenly than today’s existence. Born a bastard to Trojan royalty has its perquisites, but I always thought of myself as a half, and not always the better half. As a son of Priam, the greatest of Trojan kings, I am half-brother to Hector, Paris, Helenus, Diephobus, all deceased and all great heroes in the first “war to end all wars”. I am half human and half nymph. My mother is Alexirhoe and my grandfather the god, Granicus. I have never felt particularly divine. Rather, I always felt less, not quite human, not quite good enough to be a god. It is my divinity that exiled me to this endless cycle of flight and fishing. Any human who threw himself off a cliff for the love of a woman would be, appreciatively, smashed on the rocks below or if unlucky, hits the waters of the Mediterranean, suffering the slow death of hypothermia eventually swallowed by Poseidon. But I am so “fortunate”, that I was snatched up by Tethys and transformed. So, here am I, flying, then diving.
By Alexander J. Cameron5 years ago in Fiction
Daphne
Dedication: This poem is dedicated to the artist. Each painting an inspirational provocation. (We find Daphne in the very initial stages of transformation from stream nymph to laurel tree having successfully evaded Apollo’s pursuit via intervention by Ge, Mother Earth who, heeding Daphne’s beseeches, snatches her from his rapacious grasp. Daphne cries out to Artemis, her mentor, and all the gods.)
By Alexander J. Cameron5 years ago in Poets
When the Gods Intervene
Summer 2017 This day is like every day. He awakens before dawn. Dawn is a curious thing. One might be thinking 6 or even 5:30 AM, but on this little piece of America that lies southwest of Nova Scotia, even in mid-May means 4:30. Regardless of when he gets to sleep, if he even gets to sleep, the sun begins to assault his dreams. His job is all about late nights. He would love to sleep in, but the sheer curtains on the window of his little hole-in-the-wall conspire with Ra to make sleep a fleeting memory. He used to fight it. Now he embraces the dawn, albeit, sometimes, reluctantly. He has his own studio apartment with Spartan furnishings and considers himself lucky. This time of year, a place like his can fetch $2000/week. In contrast, the seasonal help are two to a room and a shared hall bath.
By Alexander J. Cameron5 years ago in Humans
Zippo
My dad was a pipe smoker. Do not know if people smoke pipes anymore. Googled it and there seem many options. I must not travel in the right circles if I even have a circle. Not a very healthy habit and dad would invariably fall asleep, pipe lit, and a smoldering bit of tobacco would fall on his shirt, much to my mother’s chagrin. Many shirts found their way to the rag pile as a result. My dad used Zippo lighters to keep his pipe lit. Most of my father’s life was spent in Rochester, NY on what I fondly refer to as the wrong side of Lake Ontario. This is a view shared by many of my fellow Upstate brethren living in Watertown, or Syracuse. In the winter, and most of the rest of the time, the wind howls from the northwest, from Canada, across the lake, bringing the most unpleasant and uncertain weather. One element is certain. It is always windy. Specific to the Zippo, its claim to fame is its windscreen that helps it stay lit. The Zippo is an engineering marvel, American ingenuity at its best. My dad had at least four that I can remember.
By Alexander J. Cameron5 years ago in Confessions
The Danish Gambit
Kamy is behind the wheel of the old Altima. Heading up NY 9N, along the west coast of Lake George, it is the last bit of her trip. The I-87 piece from Albany to Bolton Landing is often mindless miles. Today, Christmas Eve, NY 9N can be bare-knuckle driving for most. She looks through the passenger window. Ice is already forming along the shore. This is the most dangerous time of year as north-easterlies can whip icy spray onto the road surface. Or Favonius can bowl the snow down the foothills of the Adirondacks, forming treacherous drifts. Kamy knows this road too well. Her Dad chose to eschew Saratoga Springs for Hague. He would gleefully pilot his old SL500 to Skidmore, top down, deep into autumn. For twelve years, she rode shotgun for the drop off at the central school campus.
By Alexander J. Cameron5 years ago in Humans
