New Name – New
Magazine has been (all of the above) Speechless. Obviously some
explanation is called for.
I could point to
various shades and specters of meaning – the fact that ordinarily speech
suggests words spoken aloud and the printed word, therefore, is speechless. Or
I could remark on the curious qualities of the speechless state, which
usually lasts only moments or less, and in which one hangs suspended – neither
grounded nor airborne – while the mind struggles to find a context for, a
response to, some unaccountable New Thing.
But would that be
the whole story? No.
It went down like
this. I was working at my computer, wishing I weren’t doing something as banal
as working at my computer, when an angelic manifestation of Joan of Arc – or as
they say overseas, Jeanne d’Arc – appeared before me accompanied by the
Spirit of Christmas Past. Together my own patron martyred warrior saint and the
Dickens character conveyed to me – through a combination of telepathy and
charades signings – that I should change Poetix the Magazine to
Speechless. Well just imagine. I was speechless.