September 15, 2005
its iferno week!
so some blockhead wroate a traslation of teh ifnero whare teh gimick is its a modarn guy form caiformia naratign it out loud. in thery. in fact its a writar (an not a real good one) writing like a writar an than insertign a variaty of 'comon speach' tics to make it suond 'vernaculer'. its all painfuly contriaved an selfconscious. er. wel ok ive read only the bits on amazon. but holy crap they realy suck.
he usas 'some' as a indefinate article. the swine. the swine! writers awys do that whan their tryign to sound all 'plain folks' but they dont know how. the author is asking imself 'how wuold a reglar guy say what im tryina say here?' wel teh answer is he wouldn say it. hed say somthign equaly stupad but it wuld be a very difernt kind of stupid. if teh narator is a mouthpiece for the author he hasta be like the author or its not gona work. sam delaney screwed teh same pooch in tales of nevèrÿon. god what a painful read taht was (startad off wiht a betar premise though. coping riffs offa borges is good start). they do it in holy wood all the time. thares always some wise folksy ethnic heartwarmign ol minor character dispensign ghastly plainfolksy homespun wisdom in teh form of scriprwitars platitudes. whan i cnosider that wopie golberg an morgan freman haveta spount taht dreck to get work i almost weep. but than i relize they get paid a godawful buttload a money an i feel better.
evan if this inferna thign had been done well its a thredbare gimick. that stuff can work played for laughs — for about one paregraph. aftar that the jokes ovar. you dont need thirtyfour goddamn cantos of it. who woudl bother writing all that? its like that dweeb pushing a pea across london with his nose. literary flagpole-sitting.
arparantly the whole mess is some sily crap about the spiritul povarty of modarn life. gime a break. an anyhow hes worng. i know a guy whose phone plays the 'sanford and son' theame song when it rigns. put that in ur black turtalneck an smoke it mr anomie-an-alienation. pfft! spirutial poverty bollocks.
kinda rambles a bit donit? oh well. no bigie. if ur time we're wroth much u wuldn be here to bagin with.
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And (OMGWTFBBQ), if I see another academic city-boy trying to sound all down-home-folksy I will strangle myself with a belt. You know, the kind with a buckle shaped like the outline of a respectably folksy state. Those are pointy, so I hope it doesn't have to happen.
Effing translators. How about just saying what the words mean? (Yeah, I know translating is an art form of itself and that's a discussion for another time, and now my comment is ridiculously long so--
i hop he washt hez hanz en put awey teh touls aftur. i thouwt he wuz en avulon ennywhey.
I might buy it. I love a good laugh when I read before bedtime.
vog - hey u know hokaidos shaped vagly like texas an their symbol or whatevar is a star. an its out in teh boonies so its like teh lone star prefecture! wahoooo!
jef - re acents - har har! gotcha! an taht arturs bean removing pots on an off for mnoths now. not sure what his deal is.
jake - as long as he racitad it in italien thats ok cuuse he culd be yapin about anytingn. unless u speak itali8an. then yeah ud hafta string im up.
bysander - dude go for it! betar u then me. who knows mabe he hits his striade aftar teh first canto or so an it turns out okay.