Richard: "In a recent New York Times piece, the justification for relaunching this series is that the films got bogged down in a "ridiculously convoluted" mythology. I disagree. Basically, in the first one, you've got Jason's mom, then Jason's on the loose, and he's in 3-D in part 3, he dies in part four, he's replaced by a Jason-imposter in 5, he's a zombie in 6, he reverts to a child in 8, gets exploded in 9 and becomes a spiritual force able to hop from body to body, and of course goes to Manhattan and later to space after Earth is destroyed, where he becomes a cyborg. What's complicated about that? If there's going to be another film in the series, I fucking demand that it tells me how he gets back to Earth and becomes a man again! Also, I'd like a Kevin Bacon cameo."
Chip: "I have no particular loyalty to this franchise and would consider seeing the 'reboot' if I have a sorostitute there to hold my hand during the scary parts. I hear there's a nude waterskiing scene."
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According to a recent LJ-World piece (which provides virtually no evidence for its assertion), Larryville has given birth to a new poetic form that is sweeping the nation. It's called the "loku," and as best as we call tell it's a 3 word poem consisting of one-syllable words. Here's the opening of that article:
"Lawrence, Kansas is a melting pot of people and creative ideas erupting with artists, singers, song writers, performers, and entertainers of all varieties. From this epic center of creativity explodes a new form of poetry referred to as Loku (pronounced low koo)...".
Chip: "Although I'm not sure how the origin was traced to Larryville, it seems very believable to me, since most of our artists are indeed too lazy and stoned to write more than 3 words. However, in Forttt Scottt, I was taught that a poem is not a poem unless it has at least six words."
Richard: "At the opening of the Percolator's upcoming 'Trees I Have Known" exhibition, I will be presenting a series of lokus that I think you'll find quite stimulating. Here's one example: 'Trees are sweet.'"
---
But what's on the front page of the LJ-World today? Well, if you must know, it's a story about a proposed government plan to tax livestock flatulence, specifically "operations that emit more than 100 tons of carbon emissions in a year."
Here's a sample quote from an interview subject in the piece: "I bet if you walk over there behind our cows you'll see some poop, but you're not going to hear a lot of gas."
Chip: "I'm fairly sure you can't levy a tax on cow farts."
Richard: "At the LC, we pride ourselves on our 'boner humor' but fart jokes have been largely neglected. I love this story very much."
7 comments:
I ran across the "Loku" story on LJWorld.com and, given my predisposition towards poetry, was compelled to read it...
until that ridiculously hyperbolic opening. Lawrence might be a lot of things, but "epic" it ain't. This Ronda woman seems like a real loon, and one completely oblivious to the subtleties of the haiku and other poetic forms (like the tanka). Ronda would do well to take a glimpse at the Wikipedia page on haiku or pick up Robert Hass' Essential Haiku which has a fabulous introduction by Hass and the works of Basho, Buson, and Issa.
With all that said, it's still nice to see people attempt to raise their language to the poetic.
And in regards to the staging of "Eurydice" - Mackenzie Wiglesworth (her real name?!) had this to say about the production: "This play is told from Eurydice’s point of view. People have only seen it from Orpheus and not from Eurydice’s point of view."
Really, Ms. Wiglesworth? Apparently Mackenzie has overlooked the phenomenal poem by H.D., shockingly titled, "Eurydice" and told from her point of view, in which she rails against Orpheus and his foolishness in disobeying Pluto/Hades. Some excerpts:
Against the black
I have more fervour
than you in all the splendour of that place,
against the blackness
and the stark grey
I have more light;
...
and my spirit with its loss
knows this;
though small against the black,
small against the formless rocks,
hell must break before I am lost;
before I am lost,
hell must open like a red rose
for the dead to pass.
A masterful poem indeed!
http://www.vcu.edu/engweb/webtexts/eurydice/
But would the boys bone Ms. Wiglesworth? This is the true question one must ask when attending a student production.
Myself, I don't care for Greek stories unless they've been modernized, set at KU in the 50's, and feature oppressed suburban housewives (along with a few anachronistic nods to American Beauty).
Ms. Wiglesworth? How could the boys pass up an opportunity like that...that name was built for legendary tales of carnal adventure!
Trust me...
How much is that wiggle worth to the boys?
(she does sound hot).
Probably Chip!
I call horseshit.
Only the mystittyous Dr. X makes such claims at others personalities and embellishes upon them to his own gain! I cry foul you mirthless charlatan. You cockless sore on the rosey pink virgin asshole of a nubile 18 year seacow that the real Kip would dream of fucking and crying for... you get the general idea.
This shit don't come cheap. If you're gonna steal my gimmick -- at least get my shit... and get my shit secure. You aimless prick. You anal bead stuck up the ass and long-left to gestate and spawn little baby Kip buds in Kip's own swollen and engorged rectum!
To quote Hunter S. Thompson: Fuck!
--Probably... I'm pretty sure this is Beth.
Ouch, my asshole! That was your humble author, N.ggle! But from now on we'll make sure to refrain from anything that encroaches on Dr. S's patented pseudonyms!
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