Thank Gawd you put me between Keats and that lovely quote concerning Botswana's encharming chronicler. He sounds delightful; did you ever get the op to interview him? I bet, if you did, you'd talk plenty. You'd prolly still be talking :).
Yeah, them poor po-whores. There but for the grace of grace go aye! (Garlic and crosses optional.)
Well, right or wrong, it's a message (and I think you know to whom it winged its zing, at least).
The older I grow, the less I want to know :(.
(Lord, help me not to know.)
p.s. I had to delete messages because my middle name started appearing on 'em and, even when I fixed it in the Blogger Profile, it still insists on including it; so, sorry . . . I did replace the one concerning Joe Queenan who, BTW, really savaged a book in The Globe recently; what's with these guyz? They're beyond crabby (as they like to describe themselves; they're downright arrogantly above-it-all vicious; and, I hope I never meet one of 'em in a clean well-lighted alley, let alone a dark one Yikes!).
I just clicked on one of Fitzgerald's links in her posting. It took me to The Poetry Brothel. Dorianne Laux is scheduled to appear:
From her bio: Dorianne Laux's fourth book of poems, Facts about the Moon (W.W. Norton), is the recipient of the Oregon Book Award. Her first book, Awake (1990), was reprinted this year by Eastern Washington University Press. Red Dragonfly Press will release Superman: The Chapbook later this year. She lives and teaches in Eugene, Oregon."
Is she a whore?
The New York Post ad includes a photo (of Christie Ann Reynolds. Here's a bit of her bio:
Christie Ann Reynolds is currently pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing and Poetry at The New School. She is a native New Yorker and a 2003 recipient of an undergraduate award from the Academy of American Poetry. Christie Ann lives in Queens with her two finches Pablo and Henri.
Lynne W. Scanlon is spamming on an excellent literary book blog, right? (Or, to maintain a metaphor, pimping for the whores who call themselves whores?)
Nowhere in the piece on The Globe and Mail's BookBlog, "In Other Words," do I call anyone a whore. Get a gripe! I challenge you to prove otherwise, Spammer.
How did you miss the big long link but only clicked on the little tiny link at the very end of my post? Do you get paid to promote these "poetry whores" as they themselves call themselves whoring it up for The New York Post?
Pukifying. The vulgar depths some desperate no-counts will go to prove they don't give a fuck about poetry. I don't give a damn how many biographical slugs you drop at my expense. But call a bottom-feeder by its name, Bottom-Feeder.
I'm just so happy I don't have to know, live, or be the type these slugs seem to me to be; and, you? Pimping for 'em? [Up-chuck.]
You've got the integrity of a piece of VD. (I'll restrain myself because you have to live with you, thank the Lard.)
Whassa matter? Your vanity publication with its garish website and faux authorities not selling well enough? You've taken up a sideline promoting other so-called vain-brains for a cut? Good luck. Great cheap methods at the expense of people who can (and do) earn a living doing what they do without resorting to libel and selectively blindered -- "edited" is too good a word for you -- statements.
Be proud of your tip-schtick, be very very proud. Where I live, pimps of your calibre are called lovely four-letter words, you know, slug, slu*, c***, etc., etc.; but, I won't stoop to that level, I'll rise to communicate and repeat exactly what I did write, Spammer, in my post entitled "The NYC Po-Whore Score:
[quote]
Finally! "Career poets" and "professional versifiers" of all stripes, proclivities, meta-sexual predelictions and poeta-sexual benedictions can pursue their dreams (or fantasies) in the fastest-tracking city on the continent! Oh, joy! Oh, bliss! To think the world's oldest artform's finally met up with the world's oldest profession in a perfect arrangement of WellsFarGo 'n' Co. Wedded Bliss! Think leather whips, think dominatin' chains, think cat-o'nine-tail cuffs 'n' come-hither quatrains. The possibilities, configurations and remunerations? Endless. Jes' jump on a jet and whatcha wanna hear 'n' see is whatcha gonna be 'n' get:
"Meet New York City's poetry whores: men and women willing to expose their most intimate parts -- their words -- in exchange for cold, hard cash. They ply their trade exclusively at traveling monthly 'poetry brothels.' In the spirit of a 19th-century salon, 'johns' enjoy live music, fortunetelling and, of course, private readings from the poet of their choice. A reading typically costs $10 USD, but the whores set their own prices, and some don't come cheap . . . Here is a selection of just some of the whores who will be working an upcoming poetry brothel this Friday in Bushwick.
"Of course, should you prefer to go directly to the pimpin' source and learn more concerning the NYC po-whore score (or for dates in the future), you can sneak a peek @ the po-bro/thel in the fresh here."
[/quote]
So, go try float your dregma, your dullicious dregma, on some so-low no-go glow-job 'site or blog; and, c'mon, prove me wrong:
Prove there's a low below the low to which you've already sunk proving how low you're willing to go, Bottom-Feeder Spammer.
I don't give a fuck how many "books" or no-count awards these poetry whores publish or pull down. You can dress up a whore; but, a whore's a whore and they ain't whoring for poetry, they're whoring for their own fatuous egos (since their sense of propriety and self-respect went AWOL for the duration).
Don't bother pulling this kind of tip-schtick on me again, Spammer; you didn't even have the guts to post your bulloney at the source, either, eh? Fuck. Excuse me while I go try and wash and cleanse my eyes with disinfecting soap after reading your maggot-ridden fool's goad. You use my words in a piece of work like the one above here this way again, you'll last about a nano-slap.
Lynne W. Scanlon, Pimping Spammer, you're no longer beneath my contempt. -- http://www.theglobeandmail.com/blogs/Booksblog/
This is all very regrettable. I took Judith to be running with the metaphor adopted by the group and having some fun with it. Lynne took it more seriously than that. And now Judith has reacted accordingly. Calm down, my dears. Ars longa, vita brevis.
Scanlon should sue Fitzgerald for defamation of character. And who is minding this blog, anyway? Isn't there are editor or a Webmaster whose job it is to remove garbage like this???
You don't need Frank Wilson, who owns this blog, to remove your post, kgurley; you can do that yourself by clicking on the garbage-like-this trashcan icon below the time stamp. HTH. -- http://www.theglobeandmail.com/blogs/Booksblog/
Thank Gawd you put me between Keats and that lovely quote concerning Botswana's encharming chronicler. He sounds delightful; did you ever get the op to interview him? I bet, if you did, you'd talk plenty. You'd prolly still be talking :).
ReplyDeleteYeah, them poor po-whores. There but for the grace of grace go aye! (Garlic and crosses optional.)
Well, right or wrong, it's a message (and I think you know to whom it winged its zing, at least).
The older I grow, the less I want to know :(.
(Lord, help me not to know.)
p.s. I had to delete messages because my middle name started appearing on 'em and, even when I fixed it in the Blogger Profile, it still insists on including it; so, sorry . . . I did replace the one concerning Joe Queenan who, BTW, really savaged a book in The Globe recently; what's with these guyz? They're beyond crabby (as they like to describe themselves; they're downright arrogantly above-it-all vicious; and, I hope I never meet one of 'em in a clean well-lighted alley, let alone a dark one Yikes!).
Whores?
ReplyDeleteI just clicked on one of Fitzgerald's links in her posting. It took me to The Poetry Brothel. Dorianne Laux is scheduled to appear:
From her bio: Dorianne Laux's fourth book of poems, Facts about the Moon (W.W. Norton), is the recipient of the Oregon Book Award. Her first book, Awake (1990), was reprinted this year by Eastern Washington University Press. Red Dragonfly Press will release Superman: The Chapbook later this year. She lives and teaches in Eugene, Oregon."
Is she a whore?
The New York Post ad includes a photo (of Christie Ann Reynolds. Here's a bit of her bio:
Christie Ann Reynolds is currently pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing and Poetry at The New School. She is a native New Yorker and a 2003 recipient of an undergraduate award from the Academy of American Poetry. Christie Ann lives in Queens with her two finches Pablo and Henri.
So Judith Fitzgerald is joking, right?
Whores? Pimps and whores, you mean, Spammer?
ReplyDeleteLynne W. Scanlon is spamming on an excellent literary book blog, right? (Or, to maintain a metaphor, pimping for the whores who call themselves whores?)
Nowhere in the piece on The Globe and Mail's BookBlog, "In Other Words," do I call anyone a whore. Get a gripe! I challenge you to prove otherwise, Spammer.
How did you miss the big long link but only clicked on the little tiny link at the very end of my post? Do you get paid to promote these "poetry whores" as they themselves call themselves whoring it up for The New York Post?
Pukifying. The vulgar depths some desperate no-counts will go to prove they don't give a fuck about poetry. I don't give a damn how many biographical slugs you drop at my expense. But call a bottom-feeder by its name, Bottom-Feeder.
I'm just so happy I don't have to know, live, or be the type these slugs seem to me to be; and, you? Pimping for 'em? [Up-chuck.]
You've got the integrity of a piece of VD. (I'll restrain myself because you have to live with you, thank the Lard.)
Whassa matter? Your vanity publication with its garish website and faux authorities not selling well enough? You've taken up a sideline promoting other so-called vain-brains for a cut? Good luck. Great cheap methods at the expense of people who can (and do) earn a living doing what they do without resorting to libel and selectively blindered -- "edited" is too good a word for you -- statements.
Be proud of your tip-schtick, be very very proud. Where I live, pimps of your calibre are called lovely four-letter words, you know, slug, slu*, c***, etc., etc.; but, I won't stoop to that level, I'll rise to communicate and repeat exactly what I did write, Spammer, in my post entitled "The NYC Po-Whore Score:
[quote]
Finally! "Career poets" and "professional versifiers" of all stripes, proclivities, meta-sexual predelictions and poeta-sexual benedictions can pursue their dreams (or fantasies) in the fastest-tracking city on the continent! Oh, joy! Oh, bliss! To think the world's oldest artform's finally met up with the world's oldest profession in a perfect arrangement of WellsFarGo 'n' Co. Wedded Bliss! Think leather whips, think dominatin' chains, think cat-o'nine-tail cuffs 'n' come-hither quatrains. The possibilities, configurations and remunerations? Endless. Jes' jump on a jet and whatcha wanna hear 'n' see is whatcha gonna be 'n' get:
"Meet New York City's poetry whores: men and women willing to expose their most intimate parts -- their words -- in exchange for cold, hard cash. They ply their trade exclusively at traveling monthly 'poetry brothels.' In the spirit of a 19th-century salon, 'johns' enjoy live music, fortunetelling and, of course, private readings from the poet of their choice. A reading typically costs $10 USD, but the whores set their own prices, and some don't come cheap . . . Here is a selection of just some of the whores who will be working an upcoming poetry brothel this Friday in Bushwick.
"Of course, should you prefer to go directly to the pimpin' source and learn more concerning the NYC po-whore score (or for dates in the future), you can sneak a peek @ the po-bro/thel in the fresh here."
[/quote]
So, go try float your dregma, your dullicious dregma, on some so-low no-go glow-job 'site or blog; and, c'mon, prove me wrong:
Prove there's a low below the low to which you've already sunk proving how low you're willing to go, Bottom-Feeder Spammer.
I don't give a fuck how many "books" or no-count awards these poetry whores publish or pull down. You can dress up a whore; but, a whore's a whore and they ain't whoring for poetry, they're whoring for their own fatuous egos (since their sense of propriety and self-respect went AWOL for the duration).
Don't bother pulling this kind of tip-schtick on me again, Spammer; you didn't even have the guts to post your bulloney at the source, either, eh? Fuck. Excuse me while I go try and wash and cleanse my eyes with disinfecting soap after reading your maggot-ridden fool's goad. You use my words in a piece of work like the one above here this way again, you'll last about a nano-slap.
Lynne W. Scanlon, Pimping Spammer, you're no longer beneath my contempt.
--
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/blogs/Booksblog/
This is all very regrettable. I took Judith to be running with the metaphor adopted by the group and having some fun with it. Lynne took it more seriously than that. And now Judith has reacted accordingly. Calm down, my dears. Ars longa, vita brevis.
ReplyDeleteScanlon should sue Fitzgerald for defamation of character. And who is minding this blog, anyway? Isn't there are editor or a Webmaster whose job it is to remove garbage like this???
ReplyDeleteYou don't need Frank Wilson, who owns this blog, to remove your post, kgurley; you can do that yourself by clicking on the garbage-like-this trashcan icon below the time stamp. HTH.
ReplyDelete--
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/blogs/Booksblog/