BHSU ECKART

Jumbly Girl lycidas2 at earthlink.net
Fri Jul 4 05:21:46 CDT 2003


VL is a novel about rackets. 

With each passing year, as U.S. citizens sleep with
Television providing the stuff their dreams are made on,
like children too excited by the bangs and bursts of rocket
celebrations, a public ignorant, apathetic, and  generally
complacent, gazes with a false nostalgia at the trivialized
memory of a Revolution, while its Executive subverts
constitutional balance, exerting force in over 70 foreign
conflicts, and writs of habeas corpus are suspended by state
governments. 


	--Marxmellow McChewin

 the bad Ninjamobile swept along
  on the great Ventura, among Olympic
  visitors from everywhere who teemed
  all over the freeway system in midday
  densities till far into the night,
  shined-up, screaming black
  motorcades that could have carried
  any of several office seekers, cruisers
  heading for treed and more gently
  roaring boulevards, huge double and
  triple trailer rigs that loved to find
  Volkswagens laboring up grades and
  go sashaying around them gracefully
  and at gnat's-ass tolerances, plus
  flirters, deserters, wimps and pimps,
  speeding like bullets, grinning like
  chimps, above the heads of TV
  watchers, lovers under the
  overpasses, movies at malls letting
  out, bright gas-station oases in pure
  fluorescent spill, canopied beneath the
  palm trees, soon wrapped, down the
  corridors of the surface streets, in
  nocturnal smog, the adobe air, the
  smell of distant fireworks, the spilled,
  the broken world.

	--The Phrenic 



  This time the pitcher of education had gone to the fountain
  once too often; it was fairly broken; and the young man had
  got to meet a hostile world without defense -- or arms.

          --Oh Henry 

"BHSU," she cried and cried
when awful darkness and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain,
Through the long, long wintry nights;
When the angry breakers roar,
As they beat on the rocky shore;
When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights
Of the Hills on the Chankly Bore. 

	--Peter O'Parody de Dover Beach



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