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Robert Bly, poet, has remarked upon the large amount of bullying he saw on the Internet. It is naturalized along the lines of "boys will be boys".
Yeah, right. Boys, will be boys. Then they become Guys. Then they become bitter and twisted Old Guys who have never lived on the Isle of Man.
[That's a metaphor, son. Not the tax haven.]
Americans thought they knew all about "freedom" but as a result if you actually try it you shuttle between bully and victim.
As a result we get the following specimens of Jack Handey's Deep Thoughts, postmodern American humour. I post them to be droll under fair use, but call attention to an underlying Hopperesque quality, a sense of vast empty spaces missing even in colonial British humor, British men in vast empty spaces turning into Australians as a rule, or anxiously rechecking the bolt action.
One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. "Oh, no," I said. "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down, he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.
A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. "Hear that?" you say. "That's dynamite, baby."
If I lived back in the wild west days, instead of carrying a six-gun in my holster, I'd carry a soldering iron. That way, if some smart-aleck cowboy said something like "Hey, look. He's carrying a soldering iron!" and started laughing, and everybody else started laughing, I could just say, "That's right, it's a soldering iron. The soldering iron of justice." Then everybody would get real quiet and ashamed, because they had made fun of the soldering iron of justice.
Fear can sometimes be a useful emotion. For instance, let's say you're an astronaut on the moon and you fear that your partner has been turned into Dracula. The next time he goes out for the moon pieces, wham!, you just slam the door behind him and blast off. He might call you on the radio and say he's not Dracula, but you just say, "Think again, bat man."
I agree that we are under some sort of rule to valorize drinking vast quantities. But we can also valorize gymnosophism and Muscular Christianity.
STEPHANO At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any
reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.
[Sings]
Flout 'em and scout 'em
And scout 'em and flout 'em
Thought is free.
_________________ Publish and be damn'd
Last edited by spinoza1112 on Sun Jan 28, 2007 3:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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