Sunday, January 17, 2010

There are several statues...

I don't care if you schmucks don't like her.

5 comments:

Tecumseh said...

What is this all about? I skimmed through, but could not tell. Can I have a road map, O, King of Rott?

Mr roT said...

Chick can write. Read a few of her blog posts. Get down to the line beginning "There are several statues...". Quite fun.

Another nice post containing the 1/2-graf:

Here, by an old birch tree trunk, now covered with sulphur-tuft, is where I had the terrifying fall from my maddened old mare in May 1999. Kind friends will recall how I suffered two compound fractures and, as I gazed on the bones protruding from my very flesh, two gracious old alfresco copulators bound me up with their flag of Austria and summoned help. By the sheer Grace of God, and the skillful ministrations of the Man Who Put Frankie Dettori Back Together Again, I am blemish free; but the fear and flashbacks were with me for months.

Arelcao Akleos said...

It's like reading P.G. Wodehouse; narrating how Bertie's bastard child with Joyce Carol Oates spent her summer vacation.

Mr roT said...

Really? That stuff any good?

Arelcao Akleos said...

Ah, this requires direct experience. Read all about Bertie, read one of Oates'"Wolfe in Drag" opi, and with a dose of imagination you can see the gal you've referenced squalling forth as their spawn. You like the spawn? Then there's a chance you'd like the breeders behind the spawn.

Ok, ok...Wodehouse I can take in small doses. Great quotes, but too narrow a range for extended reading. The best work of his is not even one of his "Bertie" ones, but instead a short story; "A Handful of Dust".
JC Oates has what at first seems to be an elegant and cleverly rococco style; but plow into some fraction of the many thousands of pages she turned out, and you'll discover it is dangerously close to machine produced literary logorrhea. Boring.
My tuppence worth.