A sampling from THE SATIRE LOUNGE
To Poets Who Whine About the Inadequacy of Language If you distrust words so much, why not shut up? Why waste the sacrificed flesh of trees, or strew your anemic traces across our computer screens (each pixel lit by burning 400-million-year-old ferns and trilobites, or butchering big rivers with the blades of turbines)? You’d deplete the earth to trumpet your faithlessness? Why not simply learn to paint, or play the flute, or bow in bewitched silence over a whirling potter’s wheel? Words don’t serve because you won’t serve them. So: Get thee hence! And don’t let the sacred door of the dictionary hit you in the ass.