Where do you hang the stovepipe hat? was "Banking on his passion for art"
Bill Palmer
[...] I thought some of you might enjoy
these comments appearing on a discussion
thread about starving writers, etc.
Futher, I don't think anyone has posted
about stovepipe hats lately in these
three distinguished forums. You know
what they always say: If you can't
of anything else to discuss, you can
always talk about stovepipe hats. Whee...
Bill Palmer observed, regarding the topic of
why some writers, artists, etc. can happily
hold day jobs, while others seem to need to
starve in garrets:
[...]
Though I think the entire matter boils
down to personality, along with the type of job
that the artist can get. While it can be argued
that Wallace Stevens was as great a poet in
the 20th century as Beaudelaire, Nerval, and
Verlaine were in the 19th, it is likely that
none of the latter three had the personality
for job holding, so the only recourse was for
them to be starving poets (at least during some
periods in their lives).
Allan Ginsberg was one of the lucky few 20th
century poets who could apparently get by happily
enough on what he could earn from book sales and
poetry readings.
Anyway, as to artists, I think they share something
with poets in that some have the disposition for
job holding and some do not. I agree that there
is nothing to suggest that starving in a garret
makes on a better poet or artist or whatever.
By the way, did you ever see that wonderful
painting by Carl Spitzwig, "The Poor Poet"
(1839), which hangs in the Nationalgalerie,
Staatliche Museen Preussischer Kulturbesitz,
Berlin?
It is the quintessential "garret-starving
poet" picture, although controversy
has swirled around it for generations because
some people saw Spitzwig as cruelly poking fun
at dedicated poets, and attacked the4 work on
that basis.
I am not sure how Spitzwig intended for this
painting to strike viewers, but I think most
people of our own day will find "The Poor Poet"
pretty funny, if not hilarious. For instance,
the poet in the picture has an opened unbrella
attached to the ceiling just above his head to
keep the rain from leaking in over his pallet.
The umbrella just sort of floats over his head
in a decidely comic fashion. A bottle
of ink tilts precariously on a book, which
in turn sits upon a box--it would be very
easy accidentally to spill the ink on the
floor. On top of that, the poet's stovepipe
hat rests horizontally, apparently on some
sort of a hook on the--you guessed it--
STOVEPIPE!
Maybe Spitzwig's point is that, yes, it may
be noble to starve for one's art, but to
society at large, the whole thing will likely
seem a bit silly, and the starving poet will
never evoke the sympathy of, say, the starving
laborer with six children who was thrown
out of work through no fault of his own.
the alt.genius.bill-palmer
--posting from the dim recesses of an
office building which disappears in the
mists high above rec.arts.prose
Alan Hope
>[...]
Speaking of stovepipe hats, I think that must be where you found the
name of Nerval. By no stretch of even your febrile, diseased
imagination could he be considered a "great poet" of the nineteenth
century. He's best known for taking a lobster on a leash for a walk in
the Tuileries gardens in Paris. It's typical of a poseur like you to
drag his name into the conversation in the hope that people will think
you well-read, when in fact you're simply being recondite. The mark of
the self-conscious autodidact. And as we know, you don't understand a
word of French, making your choice even more perverse.
--
AH
Bill Palmer
> Bill Palmer goes:
>
> >palmer....@sbcglobal.net (Bill Palmer) wrote in message news:<13ea6e3a.03091...@posting.google.com>...
>
> >[...] I thought some of you might enjoy
> > these comments appearing on a discussion
> > thread about starving writers, etc.
> > Futher, I don't think anyone has posted
> > about stovepipe hats lately in these
> > three distinguished forums. You know
> > what they always say: If you can't
> > always talk about stovepipe hats. Whee...
>
> >Bill Palmer observed, regarding the topic of
> >why some writers, artists, etc. can happily
> >hold day jobs, while others seem to need to
> >starve in garrets:
>
> >[...]
>
[...]
> >the alt.genius.bill-palmer
> >--posting from the dim recesses of an
> >office building which disappears in the
> >mists high above rec.arts.prose
>
> Speaking of stovepipe hats, I think that must be where you found the
> name of Nerval. By no stretch of even your febrile, diseased
> imagination could he be considered a "great poet" of the nineteenth
> century.
Of course Nerval is a great poet. You really
do seem to fancy that your trite attempts
at wit have made you so popular a jackanapes
that your glib lies cannot be easily refuted.
They can and I will proceed to do so. Plainly
you are a phony. Had you ever felt any of
Nerval's poetry you would feel humiliated
to prattle on senselessly the way you do.
"Ils reviendront ces dieux que tu pleures toujours!
Le temps va ramener l'ordre des anciens jours;
Le terre a tressailli d'un souffle prophe'tique..."
That is from "Delfica," my dear Hope-ninny.
I have listened to "Delfica" read in far more
perfect French than YOU will ever speak, and I
have done so many times. In fact, those
immortal lines were moving me profoundly when
your feats of Berlitz French got you to a
pinnacle where you could order a few things
in a French restaurant.
It's exactly as I've said, Hope. Essentially
you are a vile poseur who lurks in these forums
beneath a thin veneer of culture. Were you
otherwise, you would be embarrassed by your
ignorant cheap shots at the likes of Rodenbach
and now Nerval, a truly great poet, who in fact
is anthologized in the highly respected Penguin
classic, FRENCH POETRY 1820-1950. And Nerval
is scarcely in that volume as a curiosity:
the book includes seven of his poems, as a
matter of fact.
What amazes me most of all is that, even if
you did not know any other poems by Nerval,
you were somehow able to remain ignorant of
"El Desdichado," one of the most powerful
short poems written by a 19th century French
poet!
Frankly, it is difficult to imagine a mind
(most especially the mind of a literary
poseur with a smattering of demotic French)
so beastly it has never experienced
"El Desdichado." (I'm just waiting for
the demonically-demented Dopester to inform
the group that somehow I got the name of
"El Desdichado" mixed around and put it
in Spanish instead of French. The Hopeless
One is far too glibly ignorant to look into
the matter of why Nerval titled that world-
famous poem in Spanish.)
You prove, in fact, so pitifully ignorant, Hope,
that I would imagine you think Harry Crosby
immortalized the concept of "le Soleil Noir"!
You are a true adolescent pea-brain, Hopester--
taking cheap shots at poets ane literary masterpieces
you know nothing whatsoever about. (Wait, that's
giving you too much credit. It is unlikely you
have never heard of Harry Crosby either. Quite
the colorful character, though he was no Nerval
when it came to poetry...)
the alt.genius.bill-palmer
--boxing the ignorant Hopester's ears
in an office building high above rec.arts.prose
He's best known for taking a lobster on a leash for a walk in
> the Tuileries gardens in Paris.
How idiotic that you would insist that one
colorful anecdote in a poet's life was somehow
more important than his poetry--though you
plainly have never experienced it, Hope.
It's typical of a poseur like you to
> drag his name into the conversation in the hope that people will think
> you well-read,
[You already stand refuted to a pitiful
little puddle, poseur Hope. Had you ever
experienced the poetry of Nerval, you never
would have made such a puerile, pestiferous
monkey of yourself.]
Bob Pastorio
> It's typical of a poseur like you to
> drag his name into the conversation in the hope that people will think
> you well-read, when in fact you're simply being recondite. The mark of
> the self-conscious autodidact. And as we know, you don't understand a
> word of French, making your choice even more perverse.
Bad enough to be condite, but to do it again... Unforgivable.
But you must agree it's an improvement over the manual didact. What
with the switches and vernier slides and all. Never could keep the
damn things level and you know how they get when things aren't on the
level.
A great improvement I'd say.
Sacre bleu.
Pastorio
Alan Hope
>I have listened to "Delfica" read in far more
>perfect French than YOU will ever speak, and I
>have done so many times.
Do you suppose you'll learn French by osmosis, then? You still can't
understand a word.
>In fact, those
>immortal lines were moving me profoundly when
>your feats of Berlitz French got you to a
>pinnacle where you could order a few things
>in a French restaurant.
And live in a French-speaking city for 20 years, don't forget. You
can't read real life in a Penguin translation, Palmjob.
--
AH
Bill Palmer
> Bill Palmer goes:
>
> >I have listened to "Delfica" read in far more
> >perfect French than YOU will ever speak, and I
> >have done so many times.
>
> Do you suppose you'll learn French by osmosis, then? You still can't
> understand a word.
Fiddle-faddle! I understand those poems
comletely, and I mean in French. You have
already proved youself a clueless philistine
lurking under a veneer of culture, Hopester.
It is one thing for you to hang around these
groups and take your cheapshots at writers
you bitterly envy. That's simply
stock-in-trade behavior with you.
But it is something else entirely to make
cretinish comments about great poets like
Nerval. Of course, there is one obvious
reason for your doing that: You have never
experienced his poems. Had you explored
Nerval's poetry, even slightly, you would
be ashamed of your cheap remarks.
Further, only an ignoramus holds that you
must be fluent in a language to appreciate
its finest poetry in the original. Usually
the people who hold that, whatever language
or languages they happen to speak, don't
understand poetry in ANY language, so they
can't comprehend how it is that someone who
is not a fluent speaker of a language can
appreciate its poetry. First, the language of
poetry is in many ways universal. When you
really know poetry in any language, it is easy
enougn to make all sorts of helpful connections
when experiencing poetry in another language,
especially when you have the benefit of
dictionaries, helpful references such as the
PRINCETON ENCYCLOPEDIA OF POETRY AND POETICS,
dual language books, and--this is very important--
recordings of the poetry in the original language.
That's even more true when you are talking about
languages in the same family, such as the
Indo-European, in the case at hand.
You may have lived in France twenty years, Hope,
but that's no big deal. There are plenty
of people who have lived in English speaking
countries forty, fifty years or more and have
never experienced Wallace Stevens. Thankfully,
most of them have too much self respect to
loiter in a writing group and subject poets
they have never themselves read to ignorant,
puerile attacks. Face, it, Alan, you have
exposed yourself once again as a poorly
educated wimp lurking under a shabby pseudo-
literary facade...
the alt.genius.bill-palmer
--posting from an office in a building
towering high above rec.arts.prose
gekko
rescued the hostage, phoned Mom on her birthday and then posted to
misc.writing:
> You may have lived in France twenty years, Hope,
> but that's no big deal.
!
--
gekko
The four food groups: Fast, Frozen, Instant, and Microwave.
Looney
"gekko" <ge...@lutz.kicks-ass.org.invalid> wrote in message
news:Xns93FC6F70...@news.mbue.de...
> palmer....@sbcglobal.net (Bill Palmer) fought off the bad guys,
> rescued the hostage, phoned Mom on her birthday and then posted to
> misc.writing:
>
>
> > You may have lived in France twenty years, Hope,
> > but that's no big deal.
>
> !
It's called lazy writing. It's when you know how you want it to end,
and you know where you're starting, but the two don't logically connect,
so you just slip a dumbass bit of illogic in the form of a one-liner to
deflect your narrative to your preconceived conclusion and hope the
reader will blow by it and accept it on the way...
Hacks do it all the time.
Glad I could clear that up for you |-)
--
Looney
----------------------------------------------------------
This space for rent - inquire within
Alan Hope
>Alan Hope <ah...@skynet.be> wrote in message news:<ojvnmvo3i4lv1a3cj...@4ax.com>...
>> Bill Palmer goes:
>> >I have listened to "Delfica" read in far more
>> >perfect French than YOU will ever speak, and I
>> >have done so many times.
>> Do you suppose you'll learn French by osmosis, then? You still can't
>> understand a word.
>Fiddle-faddle! I understand those poems
>comletely, and I mean in French.
No, you don't. Your command of French is non-existent. Look, we've
covered all of this when you spend nearly three months trying to get a
three-word book title right. No-one with even a smattering of French
would be so utterly lost and confused between La Mort, Le Mort, La
Morte etc.
>You have
>already proved youself a clueless philistine
>lurking under a veneer of culture, Hopester.
>It is one thing for you to hang around these
>groups and take your cheapshots at writers
>you bitterly envy. That's simply
>stock-in-trade behavior with you.
Indeed. And I pull your chain whenever I can, also.
>But it is something else entirely to make
>cretinish comments about great poets like
>Nerval. Of course, there is one obvious
>reason for your doing that: You have never
>experienced his poems. Had you explored
>Nerval's poetry, even slightly, you would
>be ashamed of your cheap remarks.
My masters is in French language and literature, Palmjob. I know those
19th century French poets so well some of them are still keeping in
touch. When Nerval's number comes up, though, I let the machine take
it.
It's SOP for you, though, to claim knowledge of some obscure figure
from the periphery of literature, in the hope your nitwit
pronouncements will be safe from scrutiny. You wouldn't dare say a
word about Baudelaire, Verlaine or Rimbaud, because there's a chance
quite a few people have heard of those, and maybe even read them.
Thus, your favour goes to Nerval. "Nobody will even have heard of
Nerval," you think to yourself. "So I'm on safe ground."
But you forget that there are people here who know more than what a
quarter-hour with Google will get you, on this subject as on others.
>Further, only an ignoramus holds that you
>must be fluent in a language to appreciate
>its finest poetry in the original.
No, only a person who knows the language thinks that. Everyone else
tries to excuse their own hideous lack under some smokescreen or
other. Of course you need a knowledge of the language to understand
the poetry. Language is what poetry *is*.
>Usually
>the people who hold that, whatever language
>or languages they happen to speak, don't
>understand poetry in ANY language, so they
>can't comprehend how it is that someone who
>is not a fluent speaker of a language can
>appreciate its poetry.
No, they comprehend perfectly well. And what they comprehend is: you
can't. You're playing at appreciating it, with your pathetic Penguin
crib editions.
>First, the language of
>poetry is in many ways universal.
Except when it comes down to words. Then it's anything but. If you had
a grasp of any language other than your mother tongue (and that's by
no means evident) that fact would be brutally clear to you. Your
fantasy is sustained only by your absolute ignorance.
>When you
>really know poetry in any language, it is easy
>enougn to make all sorts of helpful connections
>when experiencing poetry in another language,
>especially when you have the benefit of
>dictionaries, helpful references such as the
>PRINCETON ENCYCLOPEDIA OF POETRY AND POETICS,
>dual language books, and--this is very important--
>recordings of the poetry in the original language.
Rubbish. But you're no judge. You might think you're getting it,
because you have no idea. I'm here to tell you how wrong you are. My
understanding of poems in French and Italian is *far* greater than my
understanding of poems in German, say, or Russian. There can only be
one explanation for that.
You, meanwhile, have no languages, and therefore you lack the
apparatus to make such a comparison. And so you continue on your
bumbling way, convinced you're getting it all, because "the language
of poetry is universal". It's simply laughable, your pretension.
>That's even more true when you are talking about
>languages in the same family, such as the
>Indo-European, in the case at hand.
No, it's as untrue as untrue can be.
>You may have lived in France twenty years, Hope,
>but that's no big deal.
It will come as a shock to my wife, who has been living in Belgium for
the eleven years we've been married.
>There are plenty
>of people who have lived in English speaking
>countries forty, fifty years or more and have
>never experienced Wallace Stevens.
I dare say. I'm not one of them. Your point?
>Thankfully,
>most of them have too much self respect to
>loiter in a writing group and subject poets
>they have never themselves read to ignorant,
>puerile attacks.
I've pointed out to you that I had a formal education in French and
French literature. I'm as bilingual as a person can be who wasn't
steeped in the language since birth. You, on the other hand, have no
language skills and no education. Who's a person to believe?
>Face, it, Alan, you have
>exposed yourself once again as a poorly
>educated wimp lurking under a shabby pseudo-
>literary facade...
No, that was you. I've exposed your cheap trick of seeking out the
obscure for fear of contradiction, and it's not the first time I've
done so. You hope by so doing to persuade people you're widely read,
but the funny thing is, you never have anything to say about
mainstream artists. Only the hangers-on, the also-rans. That's what
gave away your tactic.
Face it, you know no more about French poetry than a Google search
threw up. You may bluster and fart all you like, but the great yawning
chasm where an education should be is evident in you. You trumpet it
in every post, all the while thinking you're doing a nifty cover-up.
Take a few courses, Palmjob. You'd feel better about yourself. It
isn't too late. God knows you have enough time on your hands.
--
AH
Bill Palmer
> "gekko" <ge...@lutz.kicks-ass.org.invalid> wrote in message
> news:Xns93FC6F70...@news.mbue.de...
> > palmer....@sbcglobal.net (Bill Palmer) fought off the bad guys,
> > rescued the hostage, phoned Mom on her birthday and then posted to
> > misc.writing:
> >
> >
> > > You may have lived in France twenty years, Hope,
> > > but that's no big deal.
> >
> > !
>
> It's called lazy writing. It's when you know how you want it to end,
> and you know where you're starting, but the two don't logically connect,
> so you just slip a dumbass bit of illogic in the form of a one-liner to
> deflect your narrative to your preconceived conclusion and hope the
> reader will blow by it and accept it on the way...
That's a sophomoric remark if I've ever read one.
There is absolutely no rule anywhere which says that
every sentence--when snipped out of context--must
make perfect sense and contain nothing which might
appear as though it were a logical fallacy such
as a non-sequitur or whatever. That's why we
something called "paragraph development," after all.
The fact is, I could easily post sentences--from the
most successful print world writers--which would seem
wholly illogical without the assistance of the
sentences which came before or after them.
My sentence which Gekko pecks at, though phrased
in rather humdrum language (the way some sentences
in most thread discussions are) makes perfect sense
when taken in context of what I wrote. All Gekko is
doing is playing the tired old "snip and misrepresent"
game. But it won't save her pal, the Hopeless One,
from ridicule because anyone going back to my post
(on this very same thread) will see that I made it
very clear that someone could speak a language for
twenty years and still be--a la Hopester--devoid of
culture regarding literature, poetry, music, art,
and all sorts of other things. In fact, I see that
often with native speakers of my own native language.
Hope made it very clear that he has never experienced
the poetry of Nerval, and he offended all peotry lovers
with his vicious cheap shots. Let us not forget this is
the hopeless charlatan who claims to have lived in Bruges,
Belgium without having read BRUGES LA MORTE, actually
a very short novel. That sad cultural deficiency
is very much like an ignorant literary poseur
living for months in Hannibal, Missouri without
every troubling his mind to experience HUCKLEBERRY
FINN!
By the way, if you want me to post examples of
famous writers in the tradional print world writing
sentences which SEEM fallacious when taken out
of context, I will be delighted to refute the whole
pack of you right on your lazy BUTTS. So.
the alt.genius.bill-palmer
--posting madly from the dim recesses
of an office buliding towering high
above rec.arts.prose.
gekko
bop-shoo-bop, and, furthermore, said:
> My sentence which Gekko pecks at,
is incorrect.
--
gekko
Destiny is not a matter of change, it is a matter of choice; it is not
a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved. - William
Jennings Bryan (1860-1925)
Frank ess
"Bill Palmer" <palmer....@sbcglobal.net> wrote in message
news:13ea6e3a.03092...@posting.google.com...
You're so vain.
gekko
bop-shoo-bop-shoo-bop, and, furthermore, said:
I'll bet he thought this thread was about him.
Looney
"Bill Palmer" <palmer....@sbcglobal.net> wrote in message
news:13ea6e3a.03092...@posting.google.com...
news:<Ul1bb.3271$NC2.10...@newssvr21.news.prodigy.com>...
> > "gekko" <ge...@lutz.kicks-ass.org.invalid> wrote in message
> > news:Xns93FC6F70...@news.mbue.de...
> > > palmer....@sbcglobal.net (Bill Palmer) fought off the bad
guys,
> > > rescued the hostage, phoned Mom on her birthday and then posted to
> > > misc.writing:
> > >
> > >
> > > > You may have lived in France twenty years, Hope,
> > > > but that's no big deal.
> > >
> > > !
> >
> > It's called lazy writing. It's when you know how you want it to
end,
> > and you know where you're starting, but the two don't logically
connect,
> > so you just slip a dumbass bit of illogic in the form of a one-liner
to
> > deflect your narrative to your preconceived conclusion and hope the
> > reader will blow by it and accept it on the way...
>
> That's a sophomoric remark if I've ever read one.
You should know, if anyone.
> There is absolutely no rule anywhere which says that
> every sentence--when snipped out of context--must
> make perfect sense and contain nothing which might
> appear as though it were a logical fallacy such
> as a non-sequitur or whatever. That's why we
> something called "paragraph development," after all.
So you admit you were trying to pass off a logical fallacy. Good.
You're on the road to recovery.
> The fact is, I could easily post sentences--from the
> most successful print world writers--which would seem
> wholly illogical without the assistance of the
> sentences which came before or after them.
Oh. Please do.
> My sentence which Gekko pecks at, though phrased
> in rather humdrum language (the way some sentences
> in most thread discussions are) makes perfect sense
> when taken in context of what I wrote. All Gekko is
> doing is playing the tired old "snip and misrepresent"
> game. But it won't save her pal, the Hopeless One,
> from ridicule because anyone going back to my post
> (on this very same thread) will see that I made it
> very clear that someone could speak a language for
> twenty years and still be--a la Hopester--devoid of
> culture regarding literature, poetry, music, art,
> and all sorts of other things. In fact, I see that
> often with native speakers of my own native language.
No it doesn't, because I read the original, and it was itself a zinger
directed at a contextually snipped point, Alan's living in a French
speaking country. And it's clear to nearly everyone here (excepting you
and Dr. Blojo) that Alan is anything but devoid of culture regarding
literature, music, art and all sorts of other things.
You see, Palmer (although I'm beginning to see why the others call you
Palmjob) that was the end point you were trying to reach, which is why
your slipped that little statement in there. The logical fallacy wasn't
that native language speakers can be ignorant of the culture and
refinements of their own language, but that somehow your position would
be bolstered by this assertion. You see, you bolster your position with
cites and quotes that cause Alan no problems in his, er, banter with
you. He can certainly serve up obscure cites at least as effortlessly
and effectively as you. Then you make the above assertion about
language, not realizing that it doesn't follow logically, because it
brings at least as much suspicion on your own so-called understanding as
it does on Alan's. He's dealing with a language he's been immersed in
for two decades, where you are gazing from the outside in. In trying to
discredit Alan, you must discredit yourself moreso. It was a poor
attempt at sleight-of-hand.
And it didn't work.
> Hope made it very clear that he has never experienced
> the poetry of Nerval, and he offended all peotry lovers
> with his vicious cheap shots. Let us not forget this is
> the hopeless charlatan who claims to have lived in Bruges,
> Belgium without having read BRUGES LA MORTE, actually
> a very short novel.
Ah. Naturally I missed this. And you read it in the original French?
Unaided? Do tell.
> That sad cultural deficiency
> is very much like an ignorant literary poseur
> living for months in Hannibal, Missouri without
> every troubling his mind to experience HUCKLEBERRY
> FINN!
I claim no knowledge of the finer points of French literature, so I
can't speak to that. I'll leave that to Alan.
> By the way, if you want me to post examples of
> famous writers in the tradional print world writing
> sentences which SEEM fallacious when taken out
> of context, I will be delighted to refute the whole
> pack of you right on your lazy BUTTS. So.
Oh, please do. Such a victim you make yourself out to be...
Looney
"gekko" <ge...@lutz.kicks-ass.org.invalid> wrote in message
Bitch. You stole my joke.
Gawd knows how long it'll take before I think of another...
Bill Palmer
[...] Another pitiful attempt at diversion
though absurd personal attack compliments
of the hopeless Hopester.
The Hopeless One's attack is so riddled with
holes it might be characterized as a hunk
of swiss cheese, whose smell indicates it is
well past its prime.
Let's start with a hole someone could drive a
semi-truck through. According to Hope, he has
an M. A. in French literature. Yet, exactly like
an unschooled boor he traipses into a public writing
forum and posts a puerile potshot at a world-renowned
French poet. Hope plainly did not learn his subject
well, because the educated part of posterity has
a far different opinion of Nerval than the Hopester
does. In other words, Hope says he has a degree in
French literature, but he does not behave like
someone with a degree in that subject. Instead,
he acts like an untutored adolescent who
enjoys getting attention by making snide
remarks about things he knows noting about.
Another hole in Hope's flaky facade results
from his nutty insistance that Nerval is an
"obscure" poet. To someone who knows nothing
about French poetry, that may be true. Nerval
is obscure to Alan Hope, MA: French literature,
that much is evident from Hope's own trite posts.
To anyone who knows French poetry, however,
Nerval is not obscure at all. What does
it all mean? Likely that you have an
M. A. in a subject and still make a braying
jackass of yourself in a public forum
regarding a topic you claim to be educated
in. It just as I have been saying: you
are a posing fraud, Hope. Never ONCE
have you posted ANYTHING showing original
insights into French poetry, Hope. If
you have a degree in the subject, you
certainly wasted your time and your
professors' time too.
Furthermore, your tendancy toward being
a dragger is showing again. It is sort
of like, "*I* have an M. A. degree in
French poetry and YOU don't, so I Alan
Hope must be correct that Nerval was a
terrible poet, and you Palmer and all the
other people who say otherwise are wrong."
Those were merely three out of the many
glaring holes in your ludicrous and
peevish attack, Hope. You refuted
nothing, and your elitist argument that
one need's to have an advanced degree in a
language to enjoy poetry written by poets
who speak that language is as phony and
absurd as you are, my dear Hope-Ninny.
And OF COURSE there is a universal
language of poetry, Hope. But that
gets into metaphors and all sorts of
other things you know nothing about.
the alt.genius.bill-palmer
--posting from an office building
towering high above rec.arts.prose
>
Bill Palmer
> news:Xns93FC6F70...@news.mbue.de...
> > palmer....@sbcglobal.net (Bill Palmer) fought off the bad guys,
> > rescued the hostage, phoned Mom on her birthday and then posted to
> > misc.writing:
> >
> >
> > > You may have lived in France twenty years, Hope,
> > > but that's no big deal.
> >
> > !
>
> It's called lazy writing. It's when you know how you want it to end,
> and you know where you're starting, but the two don't logically connect,
> so you just slip a dumbass bit of illogic in the form of a one-liner to
> deflect your narrative to your preconceived conclusion and hope the
> reader will blow by it and accept it on the way...
Oh, you mean like, "It did not happen that way, and
in any case I might have been too busy for that gusto."?
Sort of confusing, isn't it? The logic just isn't
quite there, one might say. Of couse, Mr. Paul
Theroux is not logical--WHEN we play a dirty trick
on him and take one of his sentences (from the final
page of THE GREAT RAILWAY BAZAAR, should you want
to ascertain that I am quoting correctly) out of
context from the paragraph in which it made perfect
sense. Gekko seems to be having a spell of puerility:
"sophomoric" gives her stunt far too much credit.
And of course, ol' Looney took Gekko's bait and
(if you will pardon the mixed metaphor) went off
the deep end on an off-the-wall tangent and fell
flat on his face and got up and bounced down the
stairs on his butt with that "boing, boing, boing"
sound...
the alt.genius.bill-palmer
--posting from an office building which
towers high above rec.arts.prose
gekko
days, except that upon that day, palmer....@sbcglobal.net (Bill
Palmer) wrote in news:13ea6e3a.03092...@posting.google.com:
> t "boing, boing, boing"
> sound...
>
>
> the alt.genius.bill-palmer
no. this is more of a twinkles thing.
--
gekko
They call it PMS because Mad Cow Disease was already taken
Looney
"Bill Palmer" <palmer....@sbcglobal.net> wrote in message
news:13ea6e3a.03092...@posting.google.com...
Whattsamatta? Your first response wasn't witty enough? Had to take
another crack at it?
Truly, you did better the first time. Gawd...
gekko
been? Last time i saw you, you were posting in misc.writing and wrote
this:
> Your first response wasn't witty enough?
Oh, please. As if.
--
gekko
On the one hand, we'll never experience childbirth. On the other hand,
we can open all our own jars. --Bruce Willis
Alan Hope
>> > !
Go on, then.
>My sentence which Gekko pecks at, though phrased
>in rather humdrum language (the way some sentences
>in most thread discussions are) makes perfect sense
>when taken in context of what I wrote. All Gekko is
>doing is playing the tired old "snip and misrepresent"
>game. But it won't save her pal, the Hopeless One,
>from ridicule because anyone going back to my post
>(on this very same thread) will see that I made it
>very clear that someone could speak a language for
>twenty years and still be--a la Hopester--devoid of
>culture regarding literature, poetry, music, art,
>and all sorts of other things. In fact, I see that
>often with native speakers of my own native language.
You're the living embodiment.
>Hope made it very clear that he has never experienced
>the poetry of Nerval,
No, I made it clear I had studied it at degree level. That's slightly
different.
>and he offended all peotry lovers
>with his vicious cheap shots.
No, I offended all poseurs, or peoseurs if you prefer.
>Let us not forget this is
>the hopeless charlatan who claims to have lived in Bruges,
>Belgium without having read BRUGES LA MORTE, actually
>a very short novel.
No, I made it clear I had read it, and knew what it's title was,
unlike you, Palmjob.
>That sad cultural deficiency
>is very much like an ignorant literary poseur
>living for months in Hannibal, Missouri without
>every troubling his mind to experience HUCKLEBERRY
>FINN!
How awful. Luckily it's not the case. You're changing the subject back
to your hoary, tired old lie, to cover the fact you've been caught out
in your posing as a Nerval lover. Here are the FACTS in the case
against Bill Palmjob:
(1) Palmer knows not a word of French;
(2) Yet he pretends to a knowledge of French poetry;
(3) If he really knew anything about French poetry, he'd realise
Nerval is a grotesque and an oddity;
(4) He never will know anything about French poetry until he learns a
few words of French.
And let's not forget:
(2a) Palmjob reckons you don't have to know a language to appreciate
the poetry;
(2b) Only a complete language ignoramus could make such a claim.
>By the way, if you want me to post examples of
>famous writers in the tradional print world writing
>sentences which SEEM fallacious when taken out
>of context, I will be delighted to refute the whole
>pack of you right on your lazy BUTTS. So.
Go on, then. Do it.
--
AH
Alan Hope
>Alan Hope <ah...@skynet.be> wrote in message news:<81epmvogtfheon2ir...@4ax.com>...
>[...] Another pitiful attempt at diversion
> though absurd personal attack compliments
> of the hopeless Hopester.
>The Hopeless One's attack is so riddled with
>holes it might be characterized as a hunk
>of swiss cheese, whose smell indicates it is
>well past its prime.
The Swiss cheese to which you presumably refer (it's only called
"Swiss cheese" in America, so no points for cosmopolitan panache
there) has no "prime" to speak of. It's a hard cheese, which keeps for
simply ages. When it's no longer good, furthermore, it becomes covered
with mould, but doesn't break down like, say, Camembert (perhaps you
know of it as "French cheese" or "Freedom cheese") and become runny
and stinky. Your rococo insult, therefore, falls on its arse and can't
get up.
>Let's start with a hole someone could drive a
>semi-truck through. According to Hope, he has
>an M. A. in French literature.
I certainly do. French *language* and literature, as it happens.
>Yet, exactly like
>an unschooled boor he traipses into a public writing
>forum and posts a puerile potshot at a world-renowned
>French poet.
Nerval is not world-renowned.
>Hope plainly did not learn his subject
>well, because the educated part of posterity has
>a far different opinion of Nerval than the Hopester
>does.
No they don't.
>In other words, Hope says he has a degree in
>French literature, but he does not behave like
>someone with a degree in that subject.
Yes I do. I speak from knowledge gained through education and
experience. You, on the other hand, read a Penguin book called "French
Peotry (sic) for Dummies". So who's the expert?
>Instead,
>he acts like an untutored adolescent who
>enjoys getting attention by making snide
>remarks about things he knows noting about.
I noted plenty about those "things" when I was up at University,
Palmjob, in the lecture hall and the library. Oh I see, you mean
"nothing". Excuse me.
This *is* the William Palmjob who doesn't speak a word of French, once
read a Penguin translation and now considers himself an authority on
French poetry, is it?
>Another hole in Hope's flaky facade results
>from his nutty insistance that Nerval is an
>"obscure" poet.
Not only obscure, but piss-poor.
>To someone who knows nothing
>about French poetry, that may be true. Nerval
>is obscure to Alan Hope, MA: French literature,
>that much is evident from Hope's own trite posts.
He's sadly not in the least obscure to me. I wish he were.
Unfortunately my studies obliged me to read the entire spectrum of
French letters (oops!). So I came across him on the way. You, on the
other hand, spotted his name in some brief survey of French Lit., and
since it was a name you'd never seen before thought, "Hmm, I can
surely slip that one by everyone. I'll profess a love for Nerval, and
people will find me deep, fascinating and cultivated."
>To anyone who knows French poetry, however,
>Nerval is not obscure at all. What does
>it all mean? Likely that you have an
>M. A. in a subject and still make a braying
>jackass of yourself in a public forum
>regarding a topic you claim to be educated
>in.
More likely that I know what I'm talking about and you're a chattering
Penguin poseur.
>It just as I have been saying: you
>are a posing fraud, Hope. Never ONCE
>have you posted ANYTHING showing original
>insights into French poetry, Hope.
At least my insights into French poetry are based on a knowledge of
the subject, Palmjob. You know nothing and understand even less.
>If
>you have a degree in the subject, you
>certainly wasted your time and your
>professors' time too.
Got me there. And that's not an accusation I can throw back at you, is
it, since in the matter of taking up the time of professors and the
education system, you are entirely blameless.
>Furthermore, your tendancy toward being
>a dragger is showing again. It is sort
>of like, "*I* have an M. A. degree in
>French poetry and YOU don't, so I Alan
>Hope must be correct that Nerval was a
>terrible poet, and you Palmer and all the
>other people who say otherwise are wrong."
Well I am, and you are.
>Those were merely three out of the many
>glaring holes in your ludicrous and
>peevish attack, Hope. You refuted
>nothing, and your elitist argument that
>one need's to have an advanced degree in a
>language to enjoy poetry written by poets
>who speak that language is as phony and
>absurd as you are, my dear Hope-Ninny.
You need to have some grasp of the language, Palmjob. Poets are quite
incorrigible in using language to make their poems. I fail to see how
you could understand them by some back-door route, as you claim to
have done.
>And OF COURSE there is a universal
>language of poetry, Hope.
Well, no. There may be a common grammar, but the vocabulary changes.
>But that
>gets into metaphors and all sorts of
>other things you know nothing about.
It doesn't absolve you of the need to read the words Nerval wrote,
which of course you can't do, and understand them in the way he
intended, which is also beyond your grasp. Face facts, Palmjob. A
monoglot such as you is never going to get anywhere reading French
poetry. You might as well expect to be taken seriously pontificating
on brain surgery, with this one difference: you do at least have a few
fizzing, sparking brain-cells rattling around in your Cranius Maximus.
But you don't have a single word of French -- not even le and la,
remember?
--
AH
Looney
"gekko" <ge...@lutz.kicks-ass.org.invalid> wrote in message
> Hey! "Looney" <bu...@sbcglobal.net>! It's been a long time! How ya
> been? Last time i saw you, you were posting in misc.writing and wrote
> this:
>
>
> > Your first response wasn't witty enough?
>
> Oh, please. As if.
Right... shoulda just left it...
Dr Zen
> Bill Palmer goes:
>
> >Alan Hope <ah...@skynet.be> wrote in message news:<81epmvogtfheon2ir...@4ax.com>...
>
> >[...] Another pitiful attempt at diversion
> > though absurd personal attack compliments
> > of the hopeless Hopester.
>
> >The Hopeless One's attack is so riddled with
> >holes it might be characterized as a hunk
> >of swiss cheese, whose smell indicates it is
> >well past its prime.
>
Who the fuck's this Nerval fellow?
Zen
Looney
"Dr Zen" <gol...@hotmail.com> wrote in message
news:5e7da04d.03092...@posting.google.com...
Some frog wut talked purty...