J-Franz Gets a Phone-In

A new tell-all book on the Kennedys is coming out. But this time, it’s from the inside. The book is authored by Christopher Kennedy Lawford, and will include an essay by Ted Kennedy entitled “Mary Jo and Me: A Politiican’s Guide to Avoiding Entanglement.”

Shelsey Sybrandts, a 9 year old Coloradan, has become the youngest author of valentine verse. Harvey Winstein has optioned the eight-line poem for a future Miramax film, noting, “The little fucker’s a motherfucking genius. But if she tries to cross me, she better watch out. The fat man always wins.”

Ahmed Bouzfour won’t be taking home Morocco’s Literary Creation Prize. Bouzfour rejected the award, protesting Morocco’s low level of literacy. He also protested Morocco’s continuing promotion of the casbah dance.

In The Guardian, Richard Holmes examines Percy Shelley’s premature drowning.

Filmjerk uncovers an early draft of the Corrections film adaptation. David Hare wrote the script but, despite his solid credentials, to summarize their findings, the screenplay sucks. Big time.

prose-aic

xmas prop a gander did we vote?
ears calumniated by duplicitous speakers
silent sales sandwiched between stale scrambled

egg
nog
ick

unilateral steel toe lapping blood hard red green bow

spirit of giving
hungry

pint special sale medicine holed up
phone dead analog nosound
bathtub hot cold
alone at last

naturally

The Charge of the Fight Club Brigade

Half a tale, half a tale
Half a book onward,
All in the hackrooms of Death
Wrote Chuck six hundred
“Forward, the Fight Club Brigade!
“Charge for the books,” Chuck said:
Into the hackrooms of Death
Wrote Chuck six hundred

“Forward, the Fight Club Brigade!”
Was there a reader dismay’d?
Not tho’ the fanboy knew
Some Laura had blunder’d:
Hers not to fly a kite
Hers not to think or write,
Hers not to like one mite:
Into the hackrooms of death
Wrote Chuck six hundred.

Lullaby to right of them,
Survivor to left of them,
Choke in front of them,
Purchas’d and plunder’d,
Gorged through with rage and unschool’d,
Boldly they read and watched,
Into the jaws of Fincher,
Into the mouth of Chuck’s checking account
Wrote Chuck six hundred