Currently appearing elsewhere.
I should probably point out that this entry of Barry’s has generated a rather lively and puckish discussion, in which I take part (I do some of the puckish bits. You’ll have to click on the comments link at the bottom of the item yourself to get there, since it needs Java-whatsit to work). I should probably also point out that I should maybe go ahead and try to smack those various inchoate comments of mine into a more coherent screed for posting here (I style myself a freelance critic of the paraliterary; pornography is, like comics, like role-playing games, like cookbooks, like genre’d prose, like legal briefs, like cancelled SF-Western television shows—excuse me, televisual texts—paraliterary. So I should maybe write about this rather long story which all too often is given too short a pier)—but pontificating about anything without providing specific, personal examples is worse than useless, and getting into specific, personal examples when one’s topic is pornography is, well. Revelatory and embarrassing.
So.
(Yes, yes. Honesty and candor; candor and honesty. The irony is richly appreciated.)
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You don't need Javascript to link to comments: the puckish discussion you're talking about is located here.
want to feel better? Every time I update your page I read "What I have in common with Dylan Meconium"
which is, of course, the tarlike substance which is a baby's first shit.
I'm sure he's brilliant and I know I'm overtired
but certainly I'm profoundly immature, yes?
You're profoundly immature, I now know a great new word, and she is brilliant, yes.
(Kids these days, with their gender-bending names...)