About
jackburns@riseup.net
“I am going to venture that the man who sat on the ground in his tipi meditating on life and its meaning, accepting the kinship of all creatures, and acknowledging unity with the universe of things, was infusing into his being the true essence of civilization.”
-Chief Luther Standing Bear
“Jack Burns” is a character in one of Abbey’s novels, The Brave Cowboy, a novel that was also made into a film starring Kirk Douglas called Lonely Are The Brave. The Burns character appears several times in other Abbey works, including The Monkey Wrench Gang.
He’s a loner, an anarchist cowboy that drifts around on his horse “Whisky,” a lifestyle I often fantasize about but will probably never live out. Still hoping those gas prices go sky high and man’s other best friend, the horse, makes a comeback.
I’ll take the horse and the open spaces, thank you.
In real life, I’m a native Southerner that’s spent nearly my entire life in the deep South. My educational background is in liberal arts, mostly History, English and Anthropology, and my keen interests are the American West, the Mississippi Delta and the unification of social and ecological theories, particularly grass roots democracy and bioregionalism.
Major influences on my work and views are the writings of Edward Abbey, Gary Snyder, Lew Welch, Arne Naess and a fellow named Michael Lewis. I love westerns. I’m also a big fan of The Brian Jonestown Massacre and love the art of Robert Motherwell, Bill deKooning, Franz Kline, Ryan Trecartin, Anselm Kiefer.
My own work is primarily as a essayist, social critic, father, husband and half-ass gardener. I write insane poetry and flash fiction that scares people, and post that drivel on another site. But when I’m fully medicated and normal, I make a living directing a telecommunications company, which is boring as hell but pays the bills. The rest of the time, I can be found hiking in the Smokies or in the American Southwest.
My primary goal is to retire to a small town in the West, live in a small but adequate house, ride horses, raise chickens, play checkers with old timers in a local cafe, die with my boots on and cease talking about myself in third person.
“It’s better to die on one’s feet, than live on one’s knees.”-Emiliano Zapata
