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Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Phailure To Literacify [Today's News Poem, Special Extra, Feb 23, 2010]

Phailure To Literacify [Today's News Poem, Special Extra, Feb 23, 2010]

“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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SF Weekly Throws Mediocre, Illiterate Gauntlet

Just saw it now. So now the clock is ticking and they await my riposte. Mmm, it's like getting a big London Broil, there are so many ways to flame it.

See America's journalists prove they don't know Freud (high culture) OR Transformers (low culture) and watch what happens when they don't bring their A-game to their own newspaper boxes.

Lunge:
http://blogs.sfweekly.com/thesnitch/2010/02/vile_poetry_hardly_worst_detri.php

Riposte coming...

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Cretan Labyrinth [Today's News Poem Part II, or Bonus Poem]

Cretan Labyrinth

A winter sport I'd like to see:
A shooting match, by teams, on ski.
While blood in hockey's sanitized
For sake of replays televised
To save the kids—it's late for that.
So get your club or baseball bat
And fasten skis on both your feet,
And win that gold for U-S-A
By bashing commie fags in fray.
They want their chance to get you too
To own a pair of eyes of blue,
To stain the white of ice with you.
Instead we watch from every pew
And worship those who ought renew
Their lust for war through every sport—
Whose feats on ice inspire our due
And still command our staunch support.
They bait a kindly Minotaur:
Olympics are a proxy-war.

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Whose Achievement? [Today's News Poem]

Whose Achievement? [Today's News Poem, Feb 23, 2010]

http://www.torontosun.com/sports/vancouver2010/photos/2010/02/23/12994746.html

The cult of sports has gilded halls
With records proving human force.
A trophy case upon the wall
Exists in place to name the source

Of greatness, measured carefully.
Such care exceeds esteem for sport—
Athletes more the pull than pulley—
Science needs a thing to sort.

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