Saturday, June 14, 2008
(transplanted from the forums, when I realized that no one’s going to bother reading what I wrote)
Read the rest of this entry »
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
This is in reference to the sonnet I wrote for Shruti on the JoCo forums, which, as I mentioned there, is both a sonnet in attempted Shakespearean style and a diagonal acrostic. Before we go further, let’s make sure everyone’s uncovered the message, all right?
SPEAKTHOUTOMEWHENBITTERGALLTHYBREAST DOTHOVERSWELLORWHENTHYSTARSARESWAYD BYMARTIALCHOLERIATTHYBEHEST MYSELFDESPATCHTOLOOSETHINEAMBUSCADE SOTHOUMAYSTSTANDTHEBUFFETTAKEASHARE INPAINFULPITYANDWITHMARTYRSHANDS OUTSTRETCHDTHYGUILELESSINNOCENCEDECLARE STILLGRIEVDBYTROUBLESNOONEUNDERSTANDS YETWHENISEETHEWAYSELFSORROWDRIPS FROMEYESOCCLUDEDBYCONCEITANDDRINK ORLETTHEEWRENCHCONTRITIONFROMMYLIPS ORWITNESSBEARTOSOLITUDEITHINK MYSELFOERSEIZEDINTHINEORBITWHY WHOTHENISTRULYMADLOVETHOUORI
Got it? Let’s carry on. Read the rest of this entry »
Monday, October 16, 2006
Here’s another Navel-Centric Examination, in which I take apart the Fiascos I create and show you how they got to be such fiascos.
This week, on Friday Fiasco #4:
- How I painted myself into so many corners that, in order for me to be simultaneously in all these corners, there would have to be enough dimensions to support string theory
- How many licks it takes to get to the center of the F# two octaves below middle C
- The worst thing about The Phantom of the Opera, other than the other hundred worst things about The Phantom of the Opera
- What this would’ve parodied if it hadn’t been The Presidents (with audio!)
- What exactly Mark Foley was doing in the last lines of this song, and how many innuendoes I could’ve put into this bullet point instead of writing “What exactly Mark Foley was doing in the last lines of this song”
- How the ending line about Mark Foley, although seemingly straightforwardly obscure, actually has enough dimensions to support string theory
All this is below the cut.
Monday, October 9, 2006
First off, let me just say I’m glad I committed to writing about Friday Fiascos and not about fiascos in general, because I really don’t want to talk about Sunday.
The thing about writing these Navel-Centric Examinations is that, as I say, it reveals the sausage-factory quality of these works. Anatomy, for instance, works best if it can appear effortless, and anything I say about it will ruin that.
Well, not anything. For one thing, as I say, a lot of it was written some time ago, and all I did this week was patch it up a little to have it up as an emergency substitute for the piece that I planned to have up Friday, which will be ready this Friday.
My notes follow.
Monday, October 2, 2006
Important things first: It’s the 56th anniversary of the first Peanuts comic strip.
Here’s another Navel-Centric Discussion of my latest Friday Fiasco, “The Telepath, Part 1.” As before, reading this post may ruin the original for you, and I don’t mean spoil the ending, I mean make the original seem as worthless and trite and badly written as it seems to me.
Monday, September 25, 2006
I can’t help it. It’s bad form, I know, but I’m enamoured of the sound of my own typing, and it’s so easy to talk about, and it’s a good excuse for starting another series every Monday. I’m going to wax rhapsodically on, wax off about my mind-clearing exercise on Friday, in a manner reminiscent of the old saw about sausage factories.
A Navel-Centric Examination of Friday Fiascos #1: A Retread
I enjoyed the process of writing this more than I enjoy the result, which I find to be more tin-eared than I had thought at the time.
I liked, and still like, the rhyme “chivvy us / oblivious,” but I doubt severely that I pulled it off as deftly as I’d hoped. (It sounds forced, which was exactly how I didn’t want it to sound.)
“Knowledge / College” is so hackneyed that it clearly demonstrates one of my particular failings, viz. not knowing how to end and running out of steam (it helps that the beginnings of my verses are typically written around midnight, while the ends are typically written at about 5 or 6 ack-emma).
I cannot think of a title, which is par for the course.
I’m content, though not happy, with this, and I’d grudgingly give it a B-/C+.