Random neuron firing, lame philosophy, literary pontificating, movies, sex, clothes & other femme stuff

Sunday, October 19, 2003

Raymond Smullyan's penis returns
I know, as Eddie Izzard would say, "fuck all," about the person who goes by the name of Chickee Chickston. (Mysteriously enough, instead of "more than you could possibly imagine," "fuck all" in this context means "not the slightest fucking thing, nothing.") I'm not saying anything mean by that. I'm just saying I don't have a personal bias when I say that absolutely the greatest haiku I've ever read (and like you I've read an excremental islandful) is this one from Chickee's cool Super Deluxe Good Poems:

Close Enough
I'm not a haiku.
I have too many syllables
In my second line.

Raymond Smullyan's penis, once touted as a rising character in this blog, but never heard from since, is, it turns out--as we rejoin it already in progress--blasting jism all over because of that poem (admittedly not a very pleasant image, but nonetheless something of an indicator of Raymond's esteem). It adheres to critical principles vastly different from mine, but sometimes, as in this case, we agree 100%.

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