“The poem crammed in SF Weekly boxes is unambiguously laudatory of Joseph Stack, the anti-government wingnut who allegedly piloted his small plane into an IRS center in Texas, killing a man named Vernon Hunter and injuring more than a dozen others.”
--Joe Eskenazi, SF Weekly
http://blogs.sfweekly.com/thesnitch/2010/02/vile_poetry_hardly_worst_detri.php
“Autobots wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons!”
--The Transformers Theme Song
“Man is a prosthetic God”
--Sigmund Freud, Civilization and its Discontents
"Prosthetic Gods Wage Their Battle"
http://toylit.blogspot.com/2010/02/prosthetic-gods-wage-their-battle.html
It's tragic when a man of print
Requires a helpful, hostile hint;
To steer his eye to what's on page
To rid him of his misplaced rage.
While true I use like avenue
To share my words, I wouldn't spew
My ignorance of Sigmund Freud
Or Transformers—(you know... the droid?)
From boxes shedding porn and scams,
That litter up the bus and trams:
Just fold it right, now sail a fleet
(An unseen one) down Market Street.
How could I ever inflict harm
On foes like you, who self-disarm?
To watch you struggle with the page
Should bring your readers steady rage—
Until they've learned you're just a hack
Who needs to read. A book! You! Crack!
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