Robert Fripp's Diary

World HQ From a Pal

World HQ.

From a Pal in NJ --

As a five year eBay seller with 281 Transactions @ 100% rating; I can tell you this about eBay:

I'm surprised someone got to talk to an actual human being, if that actually occurred. They are one of several US corporations that are becoming exceedingly difficult to contact. Email support; essentially non-existant. And try finding a contact phone number. Probably the worst "help" section of any major website.

Perhaps this is about Autography; I have seen several guitars and other pieces being sold as being signed by 'All Crim', but the Fripp was so far off as to be absurd; not even the writing of a Lefty, and I only remember you are a lefty when I see your writing. Obviously, the others in Crim are signing, as the vast majority there are legit.

If your last name was Springsteen, your stuff could be policed, in the past at least, but I see about 50 DVD Boots of Bruce on eBay now; with bids. In the past, these were pulled quickly. Something has changed.

eBay's Stance: They are simply a Middleman. Meg Whitman, founder and Chairwoman of eBay, really has essentially, nothing. eBay has no inventory, no goods, no physical assets for auction. Hence, they seem to enjoy a certain immunity, and police what they choose to, as they prioritize.

I was robbed of $200. I auctioned the goods, person claimed they were damaged, I sent refund, they disappeared. The dreary chain of letters to and from eBay showed they really did not care, would not seek out the person, nor contact them. For eBay, It was my problem. I reached a point where the energy exceeded the $200, and let it go. But this problem was singular, while yours is systemic. More cheer from a Crafty. Go figure.

And, on the same subject, from another pal this morning --

http://www.guardian.co.uk/guardian_jobs_and_money/story/0,3605,1178680,00.html

http://money.guardian.co.uk/news_/story/0,1456,1175110,00.html

11.08 It is impossible for me to work as a practising musician and/or writer in England. There is no one place where I might sit with guitar, manuscript book & pencil, and know without doubt that I have a period of 2-3 hours where I might journey to the quiet place necessary to commune with the Muse.

In England, I deal with stuff. Stuff. Often, good stuff. But stuff. I co-operate and keep stuff moving, even moving forwards. But intentional creative endeavour, vulnerable & susceptible to the demands (even necessary demands) of the mundane, I return now to the same conclusion that I came to c. 1989 while living in Broad Chalke - it's not possible for me to be in England and do much more than deal with stuff.

Whatever external situation I attempt to construct, to protect me for a limited but guaranteed period of time from the interruption of mundane demands, my attention is sucked into the mundane demands of constructing the construct that is meant to prevent me from being sucked into the mundane.

My attempts to protect the pitifully small part available to "the creative life" have been variously interpreted & characterised as "eccentric" & "rude", primarily by those who have not been successful in taking from me what they wanted. Rational & reasonable descriptions of my "creative" needs, with reasonable & rational appeals to allow them the space to be, seem to have signally failed. Perhaps I should simply be very, very rude.

So, I'm dealing with stuff.