e mërkurë, 25 korrik 2007

review coroner: A Flapper's Flapping Flatulence

A bastard hybrid between pure meta-critiques with very extreme shrieky meta-language (but I don’t mean womyns writing of the 80’s shrieking here, but rather the Jewel variant) and various biblical studies dangling on the verge of an obscure twenty-first century womb/tomb symboliste movement, as well as some great growls all come together in this ra-ra-ra book that has been written with the faint of heart in mind! This somehow works magnificently, for this book is so lightly moving and lyrically hyper extreme it ought to be on everyone's back to school wish lists. Even I have problems withstanding the shrieking attack, but basically it is a very slow book that surprises with endless power! The insane noun/verb work alone hits every doubter in the face with a plank! When will rob mclennan stretch out his fuck finger into the face of the industry? This book doesn't answer that question, but it manages to convince us that he still cannot tell the difference between writing every day and publishing everything he wrote the next day. Bravely done by Chaudiere Books, if you're into that sort of thing. Frankly, everyone around here thinks rob should just zip it shut. So why doesn't he? The answer, we believe, is that rob is the reincarnated spirit of a twenties flapper, only in the case of his particular reincarnation, the noun/verb wires somehow got crossed. Flapper is a noun, rob, not a verb!

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