“That’s not how you mangle a quote. This is how you mangle a quote!”
They can’t be serious. Surely these dreadful (awful, hideous, there I go writing like a pr0n-ographer!) passages weren’t written for any other reason but to win this silly prize. I can’t believe that someone sweated these out and really, really meant them to be considered serious, important prose:
Take oaf yir clathes then, let me see the goods, Mary rasped in lecherous cheer.
she could hear herself panting now, like a dog, but she didn’t care.
she trembled and clung on to him and mewled with pleasure in his ear.
she called out to God and convulsed with each slow stroke, her head thrown back and her eyelids aflutter
He slid a hand beneath her arse
Thud, went the romance.
The first half-inch was cold, and moist only with brine, and he
encountered stiff resistance which, while not without appeal, made him
fear for a moment that he might do her an injury if he pressed on with
Yeah, like that.
Presented unreformatted and unedited is this bizarre poem — or something — I received in the latest batch of spam to inundate my email box:
And so I gaze avidly
and the Splendid Splinter. For a few dreamy dollars,
Upon from the right by far trees, that white place
whose soft bristles graze the top-racks.
The road, but not far enough ahead
II. Quest and Conquest
Never does any motion, sound, or light
Only a whiter absence to my mind,
Green lilac buds appear that won’t survive
To pick up even the quickening of wind
Wind, sleet. The branches sway,
Dismal, endless plain—
Rest easy, parents of Liberal Studies majors, it looks like your freakish children are employable after all.
I mean spam, of course — but not the barely digestible meat by-product, but the email phenomenon that apparently is somewhat similar to the pork derivative. I just got this in my email, and I defy anyone to decipher just what, if anything, this misbegotten spawn of the intertubes is trying to sell:
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I share this “WTF?” moment with you all as an early Christmas gift. Have a Merry comprehensible Christmas. Now if you will excuse me, I must go and remove the sodden, soppy “Iraq War awful of sadness sob sob sob” stupidity from my stereo. The female announcer of “All Things Considered” just wished a Muslim from Iraq a “Merry Christmas.” But we rightwing rethuglicans are the uncultured haters. Feh. My cats poop on NPR!
Good God, look at these idiots. You know, my grandmother taught me that pointing was rude, and everyone knows that simply being touched in the fashion shown here (someone puts the points of their two fingers on someone else and just stands there) is one of the most annoying sensations on the planet. After about five seconds of “there’s a finger. Just. Touching me.” I would become psychotic. Obviously only someone who is already psychotic — such as a believer in “Scientology” (which was a con invented by a hack scifi writer to milk gullible rich people — the only thing about the “faith” that’s come true) — would find this sort of “healing” appealing. Freaks.
(Via a commenter on it comes in pints? All hail great Xenu!)
“The World Trade Center was destroyed by Sooper Sekret Space Lasers! The proof is all those ‘toasted’ cars that look like they were just towed neatly and parked along the FDR highway!”
“Uh… they were towed and parked along the FDR highway. To get them out of the way of rescue trucks…”
“No way! They couldn’t have been towed there! That was the space lasers that fried them!”
“Now wait a minute, you just said that the cars looked like they were towed there..”
“No way! There weren’t any tow trucks — that’s just what GeorgeBushitlerburton wants you to believe!”
“Look, if they weren’t towed there, then why did you say–”
“So you agree with us — the space lasers toasted those cars! And destroyed the World Trade Center! See, the proof is the suspicious way those cars are all lined up along the FDR — they were obviously towed there and parked and–”
(I just love the last image of the wood stove, with the caption “These fires do not melt or significantly weaken steel.” Well yeah, I guess most skyscrapers are built to withstand the heat the average small wooden house stove puts out. Go figure!)
I don’t know why Tim Blair has chosen to expend his considerable smack-down talents on a has-been ex-punker turned “journalist” at the weekly rag The Niagara Falls Reporter (motto: “for people who think The Weekly World News is too conservative”), but I think it is probably because he loves his readers and wants to make us happy. Thanks, Tim! This is the best Christmas ever!
The Sentinel is sticking to the “Kahin” spelling, and it looks like the guy is a case of driving while crazy. Four times Baker-acted, eh?