Ben Wilkinson

@benwilko85.bsky.social

Writer, poet, “refreshingly honest” critic, tutor. Poems: Way More Than Luck (2018), Same Difference (Seren Books 2022). Criticism: Don Paterson (LUP 2021). Writing has appeared in Guardian, New Statesman, Spectator, TLS, etc. Lifelong Red. Likes a jog.

AI art of all kinds is, without exception, irredeemable dross, and only impresses those with the aesthetic awareness of a six year old. It thrives, like most godawful things, on lack of education, be it self-taught or formal. Just to say the quiet part out loud like, and for avoidance of any doubt.

The AI revolution is here but, like most revolutions, it isn’t going to deliver what its proponents allege. The underlying purpose is to allow wealth hoarders to access skill while removing from the skilled the ability to access wealth.

“Another reason I chose to share my experience with long COVID was that I wanted to scare the shit out of people who weren’t taking it seriously. Think you’re too healthy or fit to end up like me?” Seems I found my new running crew: The Always Tired Club. www.8020endurance.com/dying-to-run...

Dying to Run, Episode 4: "The Always Tired Club" | 80/20 Endurance

Matt Fitzgerald has been a runner for almost his entire life, but his running days ended abruptly in 2020 when he developed long COVID, a post-viral chronic

8020endurance.com

Only waking up to this now as I’ve spent a chunk of 2024/25 under a rock, but what happened to the Next Generation Poets 2024, i.e. the fourth instalment in the PBS/Poetry Society’s promotional celebration of 20 new voices predicted to dominate British verse in the coming decade?

Football is like life: we meet with both triumph and disaster. True character is about treating both the same, with class and dignity. This new-look team will be special. Patience. Some folks need to check themselves, remember who we are, and who our boys lost over the summer.

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You know we’re through the looking glass here in the UK when the radical right wing has ties to and defends Putin’s Russia, but tries to accuse the left of ‘communism’ for proposing such moderate conservative views as taxing billionaires and dismantling the rentier economy.

‘“Keeping It Together: How Not to Get So Burned Out That You Walk Out in the Middle of Class” will now be a slideshow presented in the haunted auditorium by Jim “Flip” Philips, head coach of the varsity TP team.’ www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/the...

The Faculty Mental Health Fair Has Been Postponed Again

Dear Faculty: Due to concerns expressed by the students, parents, and staff, you are invited to attend a mandatory emergency mental health fair in ...

mcsweeneys.net

Why does the Conservative Party hate Shakespeare, the Romantics, the Brontës, and all the world-renowned richness of British literary culture? Students who study English gain a whole raft of life skills: verbal and written communication; creative and critical thinking.

Totally behind everything Gary Neville says about using flags as a symbol of division and hate, and the need for unity and solidarity. I’m from an ordinary background, state schooled, and have worked hard all my life. What’s stood in my way has always been been privilege and greed, never diversity.

Always reassuring when a prize shortlist consists of an appealing mix of established as well as newer voices (the latter poets with one to three collections, by any sensible definition). A new collection by Tom Paulin! I’ve some books to buy and reading to catch up with.

T. S. Eliot Prize@tseliotprize.bsky.social · last yr.

We are thrilled to be able to reveal this year's T.S. Eliot Prize shortlist! Our judges have chosen ten books "of great range, suggestiveness and power; from Entebbe to Manitoba... there is something here for everyone." Find out more now: tseliot.com/prize/news/

The fact that the first AI actor is an archetypally attractive young woman who cannot and will not object to any cinematic scenario she is placed within says everything about the forces driving these ‘innovations’.

A walk from Leeds to Goole, via the River Aire, the Aire and Calder Navigation, the Knottingley and Goole Canal, the New Junction Canal and the Dutch River, 6.45am to 9.52pm Friday 26 September. An improvised, illustrated thread of indeterminate length, part reflection, part reconstruction. 1/

Shipping containers on the waterside at Stourton, two miles south-east of Leeds city centre.

If you’ve flu-like symptoms at the moment, test for Covid. My year-long experience of long Covid has been utter hell; my advice to anyone is to rest up as much as you need before your body makes that decision for you, and do not gaslight yourself into trying to push through it.

‘“I am a genius of a writer”, Plath had written to her mother. “I am writing the best poems of my life; they will make my name.” She gathered up the neat typescript in a black spring-binder, discovered on her desk after her suicide just months later.’ www.the-tls.com/literature/p...

Lioness of God

“Well, I have finished a 2nd book of poems in this last month”, Sylvia Plath wrote home to her mother on November, 1962, “30 new poems.” Her first volume, The Colossus, had appeared two years before a...

the-tls.com

Ah, National Poetry Day. A worthy endeavour and well meaning, but it does tend to conjure poetry as a charity case, poets running after you imploring ‘come back! It doesn’t have to rhyme!’ When all’s said and done, I’m with Frank O’Hara: ‘if you don’t need poetry, bully for you.’

Ah yes, Tony Blair: a political figure famed for his grinning diplomacy, and not at all for war crimes in horrific Anglo-American pseudo-religious crusades. Trump says he’s a good guy, the best. I’m reminded of this furiously perfect sonnet by Don Paterson, which conjures Blair in Stalinist mode.

The Big Listener 

for Tony Blair

Midnight. Connaught Square. A headlight beam 
finds Cherie just back from her speaking date.
She looks at you. Less animal of late.
You lose no sleep, but wake within a dream.
Your favourite: that old divided dark,
the white square at your neck; your good ear bent 
towards the long sighs of your penitent.
You rinse a thousand souls before the lark 
and wake refreshed, if somewhat at a loss 
as to why they seem so lost for words.
They are your dead, who still rose to the birds 
the day we filled the booths and made the cross, 
before you'd forced them howling to their knees 
to suffer your attentions. Spare us. Please.

As for many poets uneasy in their class consciousness, Tony Harrison’s brilliant controversial long poem V. (1985) blew me away when I first read it. But his short lyrics were sharp, wise, and deeply moving, too, cut from lived life. Saddened to hear the great man has passed. RIP.

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One of the defining errors of our age is the insidious notion that all opinions are equal and valid. They’re not. Undermining corroborated expertise in a dubious overextension of alleged ‘democratic’ values, we end up with a political leader spreading dangerous medical misinformation.