E.C. Walsh Blogsphere

“Not” by yours truly

“At least it’s not porn.” “It’s not porn! It’s not porn! Don’t worry, W—. Someone will be born.” “I think L—‘s name may really be Porn. It is common there.” “She’s not common; stop saying it.” “But should I be paying for it?” “That’s okay, you know, The Way of World.” “Oh, more literary references.” “Stop the self-deferences. She won’t like it.” “May you tell me, ‘take a hike!’ It depresses me.” “And it stresses us, see?” “Go to hell, D—!” “I’ll be ringing the bell for you.”

Update:

“I’m ringing the bell for you. Is there anything to tell for you?” “What’s that smell in my nose?” “It’s sulfur, but keep your repose. It ebbs, and it flows.” “At least there are still hoes.” “Yes, everyone knows.” “Gardening is good for you.” “I wish she’d care for the wood for me.” “Hmm, the way of all flesh. That’s how it goes.”

 

“Nazi Jokes” by yours truly

“Heil M—-! Heil M____! Don’t be a sissy!” “You have to stop it with the Nazi jokes. They aren’t funny. And offensive, you aren’t pun-y.” “But why won’t the Jews laugh? There really is a little German man in my bedroom each night. And he won’t stop me saluting. Hand in the air like I just don’t care.” “Yes, but you have to stop. It is a terrible flop,” “Heil M—-! Make her stop.” “She won’t. She can’t.” “Then I’ll continue with cant.” “Cant I am? Green eggs and C—-?” “Yes, somehow I’ll go on.” “On, C—- soldier, but don’t be any bolder.” “I have grown older.” “Yes.”

“A Small Territory in Canada” by yours truly

“Well, I never!” “Never?” “Never.” “Ever?” “Even if his name were Lever.” “Can you do this forever?” “Whatever.” “Maybe our ties we should sever.” “I hear there’s a place in Canada called Nunavut. Maybe you should go there.” “As if you care.” “Buyer beware.” “I don’t like your wares.” “Then please stop the stares.” “As if anyone cares.” “Maybe I need to grow pears.” “That would be nice.” “Yes, it could suffice.”

“Such Sweet Sorrow,” by yours truly

“Really W—, leave!” “But I heard you have a pal, and his name is Steve.” “Don’t believe!” “Okay, I’ll be gone.” “Well, you look a bit wan.” “Oh, don’t quote Keats. He really beats: ‘Alone and palely loitering.'” “They say I have big feets.” “Maybe so, but eat your beets.” “They are good for the liver.” “And we don’t like to quiver.” “Okay, just go.” “I know.” “Don’t jerk; let it flow.” “For that, I may need a ho.” “So so.”

 

“Booze and Women,” by yours truly

“Can I?” “May you? You mean.” “Yes, Mei You. I may want a Chinese woman. Goo goo.” “Gaga.” “Haha.” “You may want to Google Gaga, but you may not like what you find.” “She is crazy.” “But not lazy.” “True, she isn’t hazy in her words.” “One guy calls women ‘birds.'” “Is that an insult?” “No, egrets are nice.” “You mean, ‘No regrets.'” “Well, maybe. Rosemary’s Baby.” “Take it easy maybe.” “W—, your pun-ctuation.” “Yes, it could lead to castra—” “Find another relation.” “Who won’t cause defenestration.” “Stop, the masturba—” “It leads to madness.” “And sadness.”

“The door is that way!” “But what are doors for.” “Something you shouldn’t ignore.” “Well, I might implore. Let’s explore.” “Get the hell out, you whore.” “Don’t be a bore.” “I’ll call the police.” “I bet it would be a release.” “I’ll kill you, you slime.” “Well, it could be a crime.” “They won’t prosecute.” “Because we aren’t hirsute?”

“She’s gone to M—wood.” “Would M—?” “That’s what everyone asks.” “As they sip from their flasks?” “Yes, we are all hypocritical.” “And a bit too cynical.” “Well, you don’t have to belabor the point.” “D—, please don’t take another joint.” “Is she okay? I hope she isn’t gay or been led astray.” “That’s what they say, but, you know, we all helped.” “I hear, in bed, she yelped.” “It’s okay to go crazy.” “As long as you aren’t also lazy.” “Purple haze, purple hazy.”

“Career Advice” by yours truly

“Hey, look over there. That’s Buddy Hackett.” “He can sure hack it.” “Yes, W—. It’s because he doesn’t wack it, you perv.” “I’d like to be a hack. It really appeals to me.” “You think press should be free?” “Like a Charlie Horse on my knee. Maybe I need advice from M— M—” “You want Eminem’s advice? You trust rappers?” “I do but they sometimes feel like trappers. Hey, M— is dressed as a flapper.” “Enough of that palaver. Everyone’s sick of it.” “Yes, but the feelings are strong; she can have the wick of it.” “That candle may be too hot to handle.” “Don’t be such a man dull.” “Watch your grammar, or I’ll get out my hammer.” “A hack and a carpenter. That’s what we’ll be.” “Yes, I’ll be in The Carpenters: Their best song is ‘Far from Me.’ SayOOOnara, sucker.” “Say ‘OHH!’ Nara while you do it. I like sound effects.” “You’ll need a whore for that.” “This has been a horror chat. Oh no! Mr. Bill is loose again and wants to kill!”

“With The Institute, King leans into the theme of ‘great events’ happening with the smallest of decisions as well as the world-changing power of togetherness. And in that case, it’s a frequent lesson he extols that never gets old.” —USA Today

“A tale delineating a troubling separation between children and the adult world…vibrant…nuanced webs of action and consequence…comprise this engaging narrative.” —Los Angeles Review of Books

Two possible references come to mind upon reading these squibs from the front pages of King’s novel. The first is Franz Kafka’s famous parable “Before the Law,” which Wikipedia describes as “an allegory for the corruption of bureaucracy and the ways in which authority wields symbolic power over its citizens. More broadly, the story can also be read as a critique of the idea of justice and the law itself, which Kafka portrays as an unobtainable ideal.” Written in 1915, the story is prescient about the institutional corruption that led to two brutal world wars. It is a sad irony that the legal profession, dedicated to justice, often involves such deep and damaging corruption.

The other is a bit odd. It was  a “B” movie called Crazy Eights, a 2004 production that dealt with adults realizing they had been tortured in a scientific experiment when eight years old. I haven’t seen it in a long time but thought it was a powerful statement about child abuse. One of its stars was an adult and slightly hardened Traci Lords, who famously starred in pornography before the legal age of consent. Apparently she lied about her age to filmmakers who were happy to film her budding body.

“Further Still Round the Bend” by yours truly

“W—, you need to control yourself!” “Control mice elf? Which?  You are confusing.” “Yourself.” “But it should not be mice elf. The proper grammar is my elf, Mr, B—.  As an English teacher, you of all people should know that.” “YOURSELF!” “Please, no self-deprecation. You aren’t tall, but you are hardly an elf. And you aren’t mine.” “Just control yourself.” “There are mice and elves coming out of the woodwork.” “Is that what she asked?” “What do you mean?” “Whether your wood works?” “Woody is just fine, thank you. Anyway that’s between her and me.” “That’s good grammar. Some might say ‘she and me.'” “And she mean, and it’s a crying shame.” “This is no ‘Crying Game.'” “Yes, that would be lame, and I would be sad he came.”

Reading “The Gift of the Magi,” one of the most famous Irish American short stories. It is about a couple making deep sacrifices for each other. I think one of the problems with Irish American couples is they secretly want to kill each other.

“If Jim doesn’t kill me” she said to herself, “he takes a second look at me, he’ll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl, But what could I do-oh? What could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?” I felt like this with my first Irish American romance.

The almost last line of the story is: “Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down  on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.”

“Girlfriend University” by yours truly

“W—, we have a letter here. It says your application to Girlfriend University has been denied. And that’s after your early-admission application was also trashed.” “Denial? Again.” “Yes, it is a widespread problem.” “Some say you will always be trashed from now on.” “That heartless wench.” “I’ll pardon your French.” “I have trouble rolling my tongue.” “So does she. It’s what all the boys say. Don’t worry.”