Please

For the sake of sanity in the world of letters—no matter how small and inexperienced you may feel your contribution, at this time may be: at least write something worthwhile. And double check your final output. It sure adds credence to a faltering “art” form.

And sometimes, it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed…

Well,

   now I think I’ve read (at least attempted, out of shear perseverance) one of the stupidest, shallowest, poorest attempts at juvenile, suggestive, Sapphic erotica… examples of poor grammar, syntax, tense and S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G, I’ve had the unmitigated displeasure of encountering on the inter-mess. A virtual train wreck—and ol’ Max, here, unable to avert his gaze. Yet, another example of un-edited sites with sophomoric writers thinking they are writing “poetry” because they are simply able to place their material, unfettered, on-line (or with an un-edited ink and pulp publication.) And this particular writer is persistent to say the least; week after week of tasteless manure offerings.

This is a classic that requires entry into my writing course; examples of: flying monkey refuse…

Offered herein, a few examples (isn’t any way in Hades ol’ Max will reprint the sludge on this site.)

This latest shovelful, compliments of:

The Saturday Diner Open Mic

                            October 31, 2015

‘SAILING THROUGH LIFE

   WITH AN ORANGE DUMB-ASS’

                                     (ital: Max edited just a smidge)

“SAILING…”

(notice, the author figured out the correct spelling of “through”, for at least his title…eh, Mikey?)

Title: ALL CAPS…? Thought, most writers left this pre-school device—well…back when they were still required to use Crayola crayons.

Hey, Mr.”Writer”: it’s “…through” (a preposition) not “threw (a verb) the open window…”

“…she thoughts as they whip back…” Me thinks this is another screw-up…hmmm, can you say: self-edit, and dictionary? (No! Not spell-check!) Deities, have mercy.

On the other hand, “…ORANGE DUMB-ASS”  must be “poetry,” because the writer arbitrarily breaks the rambling, pointless, run-on piece into spastic uneven stanzas of no-rhyme-or-reason, no meter attempt at all; complete avoidance of any lyric representation; utilizing full punctuation (that’s ok, normally)—except omitted at any sentence terminus (unless said sentence ends in an abbreviation or acronym, i.e.”L.A.”) Huh?!  Consistency, consistency—none. There is utilization of “joint” “swig” Captain Morgan”; flogging “Pussy, Pussy, Pussy,” so we all get the perverse implications—surprised the utterance isn’t entirely in BOLD CAPS. Last, but not least: basic, grade school sentence structure, surpassing the worst of Seuss, enough to make one’s sphincter pucker.

Gawd, do I need a Jack double right about now…

Max tdc   (and this started out as a mellow day…)

That was quick—

here come the (pertinent) comments…

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“Harsh, Dude!

Sure would like to read this piece for myself.”

Jacob Sterling

Seattle, WA

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Yes, indeed: harsh—yet, deserved and I believe an accurate accounting. Doesn’t anyone get tired of p.c.’ing, lowering the bar, sugar mouthing every bit of sludge that comes down the pike, dragging down the value of their own accomplishments just to accommodate every ego-tom, dick and dillweed who has access to a keyboard?

And Jacob, you shall have the chance to read this glob of flying monkey refuse. Have sent it to your e-mail address. (Can’t link you. It is from a select recipient’s list, only.)

   Wonder if you’d have the courtesy to respond with your, then, informed observations?

Appreciate someone who has what it takes to step up and question. Hoorah!     Max

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“Hey, hey, Max

This piece, “…Orange Dumb-Ass” was forwarded to me by a recipient of the BackStreet offerings.

   Think you were a bit stern. But then again, you must have had to restrain yourself. So many other glaring issues (most kindly, I suppose) not mentioned. How creative of you to “edit” the original title.”

Alonzo Quijano

Rucio, CA

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Hey, hey, yourself, Alonzo. Thanx for the support.

   Did indeed have to restrain myself—as you know, I am not p.c. Was going along fine in my pink bunny slippers, with my morning cigar and Mtn. Dew for breakfast, when this atrocity came up on the screen. And though it is inarguably a pile, I was calm and reserved until “threw.” After that my mind just went to full-on assault.

   Wish I was more like the beautiful, Aussie-dog luvin’  accomplished lady poet in Phoenix, or the Zen dude and his cat Frosterish in Longmont who publish one and contribute to and support another publication (both, whom I admire.)

But it just isn’t in me. This post-literate plague is enveloping the last vestiges of intelligently written communication, (especially) of verse; sucking it down into Poseidon’s depths like the kraken on a ditchweed munchies rampage. And all those being affected, still remain mute. No one. No one, seems to give a furry rat’s behind.

And that’s the skinny on that, Sir.   Max

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“Mr. Max tdc,  am familiar with this particular writer as well as some of his contemporaries. A collection of unpolished writers, to be sure.  And un-edited publications are certainly a major contributing factor to the proliferation of this “sludge.”

   Just watch, as the, even semi-literate, writing crowd ages, this situation will worsen. “Pled” has degenerated into “pleaded,” now, “through” has oozed into “threw” (although, I suspect this one was a faux pas) writing is just going to the

brick throwing mice.”

Ig Herriman

Arizona

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Hey. Just watch it. Them klinker tossing rodents is my friends.

   You do, so, speak the struth, good Sir.   Max