Korn’s Lyrics Are Better Than Slam Poetry

So let’s say you’re fourteen, bullied in school, have a relatively easy home life, don’t have much need to work yet, and your biggest worries include how to get that one girl to notice you in class, how to get a passing grade in the gym class you keep skipping, and how you’re going to afford the next Call of Duty game when it comes out.  You’re probably a nerd, and if the year is 2003, then you’re a nerd that might be listening to nu metal as a form of adolescent rebellion. Continue reading “Korn’s Lyrics Are Better Than Slam Poetry”

The Nobel Prize for Literature: Prestigious Award, or Complicated Edifice of Irony?

Ah, it’s that time of year again, when the literature fanatics squirm from their holes in the dusty backrooms of universities and internet forums everywhere to cry about the newest addition to the pantheon of Nobel Literature Prize winners.  What’s that?  You didn’t realize that this was a specific time of year?  That’s because it isn’t; it’s only getting attention this year because of the particular choice in laureate. Continue reading “The Nobel Prize for Literature: Prestigious Award, or Complicated Edifice of Irony?”

Slam Poetry Sucks and All These Self-Entitled “Poets” Should Throw Themselves Off of Bridges

When did shouting obscenities, insults against anonymous caricatures, and empty aphorisms constitute poetry? When did it become less about substance and more about volume? Actually, when did substance turn out to mean “what incendiary, hateful remark can I rhyme with the last single-syllable insult that I said two seconds ago and can I chain it into this outdated statement on racial dysphoria that my professor would approve of?” Continue reading “Slam Poetry Sucks and All These Self-Entitled “Poets” Should Throw Themselves Off of Bridges”

Meme Generation

I’ve been to Portsmouth. I’ve been to the Grand Canyon. I’ve been to Houston and Tucson and the copper mines out west and the caves beneath the Appalachians. I haven’t been to Fairbanks but I know how to get there. America? I don’t even know what that is. I know the Lakota. I’m 1/256th Cherokee. I was practically born riding a Condor. I can speak French. I can speak ancient Greek. I pronounce ‘veni, vidi, vici’ with Ws. I hate it when people pose for photographs. Continue reading “Meme Generation”

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