Please don’t think this. I read Poe’s stories as a kid for the horror factor, never had a class on him and have no recollection whatever of Ligeia. Your parody could be the greatest and I still wouldn’t know one way or another.
In a post, in a thread lived a furryman. Not a nasty post, full of cussing and a troll, nor a dry sarcastic post with nothing interesting in it to read: it is a furryman post, and that means sillyness.
It should be lurkernomore’s turn, but it’s been almost nine hours now. This has been a fun thread. To keep it going (and apologies for “breaking into line”) :
Take a trip to Prudhoe Bay
where the whale fishes play
and the sun sets red and angry
into Russia 'cross the way
Diogenes: I’ve think we’ve traveled quite far enough today. Shall we rest?
Dog: Yes, I could use a rest.
Diogenes: I’ve been doing some serious thinking about colored Floyds.
Dog: Any particular color?
Diogenes: Any would do, I suppose, but I was thinking in particular of those of the pink variety.
Dog: Pink Floyds?? What are those?
Diogenes: Not what, but who.
Dog: WHO is it then?
Diogenes: Not who IS it but who ARE THEY.
Dog: Well…
Diogenes: A band. Or more to the point, a rock band which often used gospel singers for dynamic emotional resolution.
Dog: Kind of like that movie “Sister Act”. That was about singers who were religious!
Diogenes: I hadn’t thought of that. Whoopie Goldberg, the star of that masterpiece was clearly drawing on the emotional impact of Pink Floyd. I hear if you translate the lines of the script into 7/4 groupings it’s in perfect synch with the Darkside of the Moon. Gospel flourishes and all!
Dog: Which reminds me about that whole Wizard of Oz synching.
Diogenes: Yes! Remember the singing munchkins? And Lymon Baum’s father…
Dog: Pleeease! He prefers “Frank”
Diogenes: No, his father’s name was “Ben” and he owned several opera houses.
Dog: I see where you’re going now!
Diogenes: Like gospel, the operatic singing infused his writing with dynamic emotional resolution! See how it’s all braided together?
Dog: Can we rest now? I’m tired of talking about Floyd, Whoopie & Baum.
You are apparently Jane Austen, and I must say that I am imagining you looking quite fetching today in a lovely muslin sprigged frock with an empire waist.
Here’s another easy one:
eliminate capitals! end all conventional rules.
i have a special gimmick, see? i think that i amuse.
made my teachers crazy yo! down with upper case, fools!
name me now a famous poet my name is here expect you know it.
panamajack, bingo! Hofstadter it is. I had a hard time reading G.E.B., not because of the formal systems of cognitive logic, but because of the terribly overblown and obvious “creative” writing. Ugggh.
Kyla, Beckett’s a good guess given the absurdidy of the scene, but Beckett would actually be clever!