June 2nd, 2005

flavored with age

A catechism of crossness

Explain your shabby appearance and malfeasant odor.

I have not done laundry in quite some time.

Provide a weak justification for your sloth in attending to this matter.

The key to my laundry room has gone missing.

Sir, you use the passive voice to deflect fault; surely you mean you have lost the laundry room key.

Indeed, that is the case.

Small difference, though, as a large full-service laundry business is located across the thoroughfare from your current lodgings. Explicate the further consequences of your lack of care.

Also located on the missing key ring is the key to my mailbox.

The lock on your mailbox is scarcely strong enough to bar the entrance of a determined wasp. Why not simply pry the box open in order to claim the freelance checks you hope, very possibly in vain, are within?

Tampering with the mails is a federally indictable offense, sir.

So is the transport across state borders of certain narcotic plants, but that has not barred you from such efforts in the past. Give reason why you do not simply contact your landlord for a replacement set of keys.

Our place of lodging has been sold to new landlords who intend to bring it to ruin in aid of constructing low-quality, high-profit condo-miniums. My flatmate and I have, of yet, not been given the information needed to contact these new lessors.

Convieniently, this means you are without the knowledge of where to send your rent. On what do you intend to squander what you wrongly think of as a windfall?

Hand-crafted local beers and pornographic magazines.

I suspect in you the presence of irony. What ingredient in your store-bought egg salad sandwich do you find most troubling by wont of your inability to identify it?

"Starplex 90", which sounds like a rapidly-cancelled science fiction television drama of the nineteen-seventies.

Your references are lost on those lacking your frivolous and shallow turn of mind. Descant on the purchases you made yesternight at a local outpost of a multinational media vendor using a gift certificate given you (as a late Christ-mas gift) by your flatmate's mother.

Digital video discs being featured as a sale-value item, I did purchase Apocalypse Now, A Clockwork Orange, Touch of Evil and After Hours.

A banal and predictable set of choices; one assumes that you were unable to locate a suitable film about vigilante super-men or all-in wrestlers. Close by admitting whether or no you still continue to cite After Hours as exemplary of your quixotic claim that Martin Scorsese is a director with a deft comic touch and that Griffin Dunne is an underrated actor of great power and grace.

This is, in fact, the facts of it.

Go, then, and God have mercy on you.
flavored with age

Speaking of After Hours...

...did you know that the scene between Paul and the bouncer at Club Berlin is drawn almost entirely from one of Frank Kafka's brilliant vignettes, entitled "Before the Law"?

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Kafka is one of the very few writers who, when reading his stuff, makes me just want to give up the whole writing thing, because, let's face it, nothing I do is ever going to touch his shit.