Jeremi B. Handrinos
replying on Ad patres el prostitute by <{Baba^Yaga}>
23 Feb 2003, 7:01 PM
If you really believe what you have said here, than you have a lot to learn about a lot of things. Pandering to an audience? Are you fucking high? What audience? What scorn? Nobody is scorning the male prostitute here... He is just letting go like he came in. There is nothing to do with comedy, or somehow how making the reader laugh to somehow then regret their laughter. Tell me this, When you shit at the toilet do you draw a fucking blueprint with an agenda about how your ass will feel when coming face to face with it's reflection? i doubt it, so why do it here, or period. It's not meant to be that complicated. Fuck, no wonder you are socially shunned. Now if this poem was about oil painting i would lend you a few more moments, but it's not, so piss off (aids? do you even know anyone with aids idiot? SHUT THE FUCK UP!)
Maybe because it's not a recipe, turnip toes. You think you have a grasp of what i'm attempting to do here with your comment?, but the only thing you're grasping onto is your own decrepid fucking ego, Lord Ganus, and once again, do you know how funny it is to recieve such an enlightening critique upon this poeem by Lord Ganus? of all the fucking impossibly assinine things? You are childishly amusing, but little more than that Lord Ganus./ Next time try Sir scrotum, or perhaps Baron Duck butter, or even the more stimulating Duke of Fagginton. virility? Jesus, sometimes you give me indigestion noodle nose.
(YOU FUCKING RETARD) 4 for efourt.
And what is this profundity through obscurity bullshit anyway, with the titles in, what is that, portuguese? Latin? Both? And writing three of them? Some sort of holy trinity of 'truth'? The repetition I don't like at all here, since it implies a sort of damned for all times type tone where one of discord and sincerity is more suitable.
Are you trying to use the language of old to express something inexpressable in times of old? ie male whore death? Thy? The lines and images themselves are very potent and very well organized but there is so much crap in the way. And the last line is the worst, really, the second to last stands much better on it's own. The finality is far too poetic, to devicey. It acts only as a burden to the obvious virility of the rest of it.
I'll forgive your rage, this time. "Irony" was a lazy, and for this reason poor choice of word. Here is what I meant: if your aim is to express tragedy and societal scorn you should not pander to the audience, since it is the audience that makes up 'society' and is thus the entity which scorns the male prostitute. Therefore, it may very well be in your best interests to make the reader feel not sorry for this person but rather bad about themself. To do this, one could find some ironic or comical slant on the whole situation, something to arouse laughter that cannot be denied. When the reader notices that he or she has laughed at something very tragic, he or she will recognize not only the fault in the self, but also the fact that he or she is very much part of the problem. This will both make the reader feel bad about themself but also make the reader understand the sort of thing this person is going through. Maybe something to do with AIDS?? Did you or did you not read "HOW TO BE FUNNY"? Don't you understand how unfunny humor is?
But surely as a hobby . . . ?
No I am just a random san-ni-ga.
So what's cooking in the oven today?
Sorry, it's just that every time i see your name i want to put my fist through someones face. Starting with my own to save the world like jesus, or gilgamesh.
Yep yep. I wonder if I should consider a career change?
By the way, i was wondering, Do you know what your user name means, and who Enki is... because that's a righteous name, Marduk would have been nice too, of course or innana.
Stanza after killer stanza. Is it the weather or my hormones? Everybodies writing is sharp these days.
Please extrapolate some more, I don't understand. Clue me in.
wait, i appologize for the language, but you clearly have NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT, therefore forgive me if i came to the stilting idea you are a fucking melted otterpop. "pump up the irony, use it as a tragic device" i hope your being funny, because i really don't consider some of my closest friends lifes to be that simplistically and that off-handedly compressed into some kind of ironic tragic device, that needs any sort of pumping up. You want to pump something up ironically go re-edit your fucking library TanHand beginning with your stupid fucking user name you fucking 'sifter'.
Top-notch. I think if I had read this in some publication i would have pased out. There are things I want to say to you, but I no it is better not to reveal them. We are a kind.
This poem captures me like a trap. The words are so inticing, and then whoosh! the rope strangles my ankle, and in a split second I'm upside-down and dangling. Cut me down Mr. Pig. Take me back to the cottage, I'll fry you some taters, scrub out the bathtub, and all with Lady's hands.
Seriously you've built a profound thing. "Black jelly" "huntsmen" again the Judas- your father, doing what he must, and all of us hating him for it. Most importantly you cross the barrier and make menstruation a universal experience. I have never seen a man attempt it before, and I doubt I well ever see one do a better job of it.
Pump up the what? What are you on stupid pills lately? tragic device? What the fuck are you talking about idiot?
Yes see my above comment. I wasn't reading into it at all.
I don't disagree and probably no comment was necessary from me. I was actually commenting on something more simple and removed from the theme of the poem. The glass as opposed to window. It was obvious but your change made it a little better.
The irony of "Less Is More" is that LMVDR was a fatass.
Or did you mean from "glass" earlier to "pane" now? You do know what a pane of glass is correct, because others it's exactly pretty much the same. Unless you thought he was waiting for his prostitute wife to come home? This poem deals with the abuse of substance and the isolation from reality a young man goes through by selling himself. He is looking out the window seeing what he use to be, a little boy playing early in the morning with a friend, but now he's locked up from the light hiding, and ashamed. Does that help you any? The letter symbolizes his dwelling upon his lack of communication and love.
As far as this poem is concerned, pump up the irony, use it as a tragic device.