On Being Picturesque
No category on this blog is more severe than Literary Critic. You’ll notice that most of the categories have a slightly nonsensical overtone whereas LC has the gravitas associated with severe tire damage or the double pump V for victory two fingers in the air gesture that signals imminent doom. That’s because, despite a lack of graphics, this blog is picturesque if you know how to lift your computer screen at a funny angle for optimal viewing. Try it now. Better, no?
Even I freak out when working in the Literary Critic category because it demands more of me when I’m already being demanded in other arenas sort of like a club boxer who dances at Radio City Music Hall and then dares anybody to say a thing about it. Lately literary criticism has taken on a little Filmore East atmospheric with all the pushing and shoving and name calling. Yeah, the Filmore was cool in its day with Hells Angels dealing crank from Perez’ garage until you stop to consider that the place was named after Millard Filmore not exactly the crank dealing muscle head nodding between procelain stalls old enough to have signed the Declaration of Independence one might have hoped for under the circumstances.
Perhaps in times like these or times like those when Zombie Vendetta accoutrements were in short supply and if you had a safety pin you probably had a diaper to go with it since you cannot recycle the plastic dude. That is the plastic, dude. If you push away decades of resident dust you find etched in the marble a marvelous likeness of Millard himself, a historical footnote, and you can enjoy the Carlos Fuentes feeling of a trip through time.