Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Found Literature, or, Pants Meat Transcended

A shameful thing it is to derive pleasure from the story of another's suffering. Perhaps it's even worse to try to defend this pleasure-taking as a sort of aesthetic appreciation for the syntax of the narrative.

So the story related at the website provided below--with many thanks to Susanna's Superior Search Engineering--makes me reflect on my own care for my fellow citizens, because there is something wonderful about it, as art. Artless art. Inspired artlessness. I could go on and on ad nauseam about what I find so perfect about it, but I will simply let it speak for itself. It began life as a comment upon Pants Meat--there is mention of meat down someone's pants (try to find it!)--but the story so transcends that subject as to warrant its own place in the pantheon...

See the story here:

Set Kenneth Gene Lett Free

...and contemplate your sins.


Anonymous stickymcbiscuit said...

So here's a guy who drives around drunk with a pistol in his pants. He can't remember what happened because he had blacked out.

Definitely the kind of person we want wandering our streets ...

2:06 PM  
Blogger A said...

If the plea had read "husbad" instead of "HUSBAMD" I would have totally signed it.

1:08 AM  

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