A Potentially Amusing Poem for An Exclusive Audience (hey, I can only do this stuff when SeeDubya goes vacationing at Hot Air)
Two things:
First, I hope Okie will accept my apology for assuming that [1] he was accusing me of submitting my own stuff to the Watcher’s Council, and [2] he wasn’t smiling while he did it. Sorry for snapping at ya, Okie. Imight still be feeling the effects of the Raid Fogger I inhaled yesterday. Long but true story. Fleas. Accidental button pressing. Coughing. Stuff like that. Maybe you had to be there. I was and it sucked. Anyhoo – sorry again, Okie.
Second, I’ve got the day off so I’m killing a little time watching old MST3K episodes as I type this up. I’m only occasionally truly interested in politics, but my love for comedy – good, bad, gutter-drenched or cerebral; it’s all funny to me – is constant and undying. I’m a trivial, shallow man, but I laugh a lot.
Other fans of the Satellite of Love will be happy to know that Mike, Kevin, and Bill are now doing their schtick as “The Film Crew.” Their first commercial outing is a treatment of “Hollywood After Dark,” a late-60’s piece of wretchedness starring a pre-menopausal Rue McClanahan as a stripper, and a low-rent David Jannsen wannabe as a morose, existential loser. It’s really, really bad.
Naturally, since the DVD ends with Bill Corbett doing a sonnet about “Lunch,” I took that as a challenge, and so last night (it was slow at work) wrote a sonnet about the movie. As with all my poems, I did it for an audience of one: Me. Nobody else I know watches the things I watch.
Anyway, try to enjoy it, even though the references might go right over your heads:
Hollywood After Dark: An Appreciation
It’s after dark in Hollywood. Beware!
Should our David Jannsen’d protagonist
In dullish voice recite Shakespearian fare,
Can foppish gents or stripping Rues resist?
Oh, never! No! That’s why it’s best to run
As far from bleak faux-Jannsen as you can.
O watch him spaz and frolic in the sun,
Inflamed with lust for Rue’s McClanaCan.
That ass! Oh, how Rue’s butt doth make men quail!
Observe in fear its pale malignity
And how in “Jannsen’s” need for that grand tail
He cuts our final ties to dignity
‘Til we, like him, must fall upon our knees,
Sad victims to full-buttock’d cottage cheese!
ccwbass
16 September 2007
Whew! This one’s a real dog, but that’s what you gotta expect in . . . Hollywood After Dark! Well, it was either start a poem during my dinner break or read the book I brought, and I just couldn’t get into the book, so, uh . . . you know.
Sigh. Some days, I just have waaaaaaaay too much time on my hands.
-CW