"The struggle itself ... is enough to fill a man's heart." --Camus
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ACADEME, n. An ancient school where morality and philosophy were taught.
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The Deemer Interview
Charles Deemer teaches screenwriting at Portland State University. He is a playwright, novelist, screenwriter, and pioneer in hyperdrama. He was the editor of Oregon Literary Review and the artistic director of Small Screen Video.
"Having written almost daily for over 40 years, I can say that writing is not a job or a vocation or a profession--it is an existence. It is a way of being in the world."
About Charles Deemer.
Contact: cdeemer(at)yahoo(dot)com
"Having written almost daily for over 40 years, I can say that writing is not a job or a vocation or a profession--it is an existence. It is a way of being in the world."
About Charles Deemer.
Contact: cdeemer(at)yahoo(dot)com
Seven Plays
Finalist, 2001 Oregon Book Award
"Wall Street owns the country. It is no longer a government of the people, by the people and for the people, but a government of Wall Street, by Wall Street, and for Wall Street." Mary Ellen Lease, 1890
"All humanity's troubles come from not knowing how to sit still in one room," - Blaise Pascal.
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The playwright arrives (1986)
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June
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- Song for Iran
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J.D. Salinger
4 comments:
Charles, I really think that the Song to Neda which you have posted here is beautiful. Could you explain a little more about it? Is it a new composition created because her death? Or is it an older established music which is simply being played in honor of her? Who composed it? I am just interested.
Glenn King
I am sorry for the way that my question came though as coming from God, Socialism and Other Things. I am not used to the google comments format. The question is what is important.
Glenn King
I just watched this from another site, it is beautiful. This and this other one are my two favorite Songs for Neda...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nemIWvh_Mqs
Neda Agha Soltan
(1982-2009)
In the Palace of Iran
Neda,
Angel of the East lying in the pool of her broken heart;
shot by a fool drunk on the wine of authority.
Fighting for her rights, fighting for her life,
dying in the arms of a stranger.
Neda,
Don’t be afraid, don’t go away,
there is a light surrounding you.
Please….Please someone save,
Neda,
The song of the angels burning within her,
the voice of Iran, the voice of woman,
calling for peace, calling for freedom.
The light of the world must shine on you. Oh yes.
Neda,
She could have been a mother,
She could have been your sister,
She could have been your daughter,
She could have been your wife.
Neda,
Was a beam of light shining in the lives she touched,
a bright soul opening like a flower in this life;
severed from her future,
by just one bullet.
Ahmadinejad, I hope Allah comes to you,
as the world turns men must learn to change.
No one holds the power, no one has the answer,
It is written on the heart of the people.
I can see the dark clouds on the horizon,
feel the poison of violence,
it will only take a spark to set the blaze
for the goosesteppers to rage again.
Allah Akbar but he weeps at his Palace Gates,
crying for his people.
Every nation must stand up in the light,
everyone must judge his wrong from his right,
or we will lose this world forever……
Neda,
Like Magdalene molded from the virgin snow,
an ice sculpture polished, on the verge of absolute perfection,
in the heat of revolution, resisting against the fortress of tradition.
A fragile flame illuminating the beauty of youth with
crystal clarity, a living diamond of truth,
like Eve naked in the Garden of Eden,
like Mary upon Golgotha,
like Fatimah, “az-Zahraa”, a child defending the Prophet,
like Joan of Arc bearing the fires of hell,
The thousand years of pressure revealed in the burning coal black eyes
of this raven haired priestess,
standing motionless on the streets of Teheran, the wind of martyrdom whispering...
Neda,
Close your sweet eyes and give your breath away,
let your heart stop and find a new rhythm.
One day…….One day…….
the earth will be still.
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