You might of [sic] heard that Berkeley English grad students aren’t what they used to be. You heard right — see below.
Perhaps this Ana Castillo, in addition to reading, can give Rosa a copy of Hooked on Phonics so the poor dear’s no longer illiterate in two languages. After all, it’s only because they’ve never been handed full funding for a Berkeley literature doctorate that unassimilated Hispanics can’t master English grammar, right? Or perhaps Miss Hell Obomber, fresh from overtaxing herself talking to sock puppets on libtard agitprop Sesame Street — and herself an underqualified social promotion — can divert to Berkeley to offer Rosa sum remeedeeyall tootering.
Also, don’t audiences normally listen to an author read, rather than see her read? I mean, I realize this Ana Castillo is the next James Joyce and all, with thousands being turned away by the fire brigade from the packed-out lecture halls where she reads, but I’m damned if I’ll watch her silently, lovingly mouth her own ham-fisted prolix prose to herself, like a housebound cat-feeding hippie crooning to the mirror she holds up, under the size 42 muumuu, to her withered crotchparts. Not least since a cursory glance at Amazon tells me that this hasty scribbler has pounded out almost as many novels as Dame Barbara Cartland, but with even less benefit to the kulchur.
The scribbler herself: “Beauty is truth, truth beauty, — that is all / Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.” (Keats, you know, not the scribbler — just pointing the contrast.)
This, I take it, is why Rosa makes an elaborate point of saying refreshments will be served — even drowned-rat literature grads, for whom bathing is an event not an institution, and scavenging in the faculty refrigerator haute cuisine, won’t come late to the lecture hall for these precious, self-adoring chumps unless they’re paid off in food. No scratch, no snatch, as the witty ladies who work the corner of Alvarado and Temple are fond of saying.
The “super solid” Rosa signs herself with, for those unused to the far-Left politics of the mainstream universities, is a Communist slogan signaling adherence to Marxist dogma. (Right now the asshole Berkeley graduate students, members of the United Auto Workers, along with layabout tenured radicals like lesbian self-promoter Judith Butler, are on the verge of setting themselves ritually afire because California’s taxpayers have cut their budgets by .09% or something.) So Rosa’s super solid — just not in second-grade usage and spelling, alas.
With thanks to an old friend in one of the Berkeley literature departments. Once we were lovers but now he’s celibate — 6’1″ and everything in proportion. Sigh. But he still always finds time to send me little gems like this to brighten my day. Grazie bello!
---------------------------- Original Message ---------------------------- Subject: Ana Castillo is coming to CAL this Thursday! From: "Rosa -. M------z" <-----@berkeley.edu> Date: Fri, October 2, 2009 1:35 pm To: email@example.com -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear Friends and Bibliophiles, You might of heard that Ana Castillo will be reading on campus next week. "An Evening with Ana Castillo" Thursday, October 8th, 6-7:30 PM Multicultural Community Center/Heller Lounge in the MLK JR. Student Union. Refreshments and lovely conversation will be served! Attached you'll find the flyer. Would you please forward this to all who might want to see her read! Super solid, Rosa M------z
October 2, 2009
Miranda, amanda — and dux femina facti, you damn betcha.
It will surprise none of you, candid readers, that la divina Sara‘s new memoir Going Rogue: An American Life, with six weeks to go before release date, has already rocketed to number one on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
Yes, Governor Palin, that most potent mixture of Laura Ingalls Wilder, Magna Mater and Britomart, to name just a few of her coruscating personae, is a rock star, who leaves bourgeoise hags like Miss Hell Obomber and lumpen lesbians like Hillary Clinton in the dust. She’s a scintillating ball of energy and blooming good health — in addition to being a blend of William Jennings Bryan and Robert Alphonso Taft, of blessed Old America memory — and she could draw 50,000 people to the opening of a hardware store, on an hour’s notice.
Beat that, Barack Hussein Ogabe, you gangling, crack-smoking pimp. But then, I guess there are no chapters in Alinsky for dealing with forces of nature. The affirmative-action incompetent in the White House and his loathsome Chicago handlers are way out of their depth dealing with Palin, as we saw last fall when her mesmerizing speech at the Republican National Convention sent Ogabe’s Potemkin village campaign into a tailspin (rescued, just in the nick of time, by the spectacular collapse of the Federal Reserve’s stock-jobbing house of cards).
Herewith, therefore, a link to SarahPAC, where you can donate a few Yankee dollars to our first female President’s political action committee, as I did this afternoon — yes, my widow’s mite goes to Sarah, and cheerfully done:
I trust Gov. Palin will continue to be the focus of support not only for us Constitutionalists, populists, paleoconservatives, libertarians, and values voters, but also for all you Republicans of good will out there who think McCain, Grahamnesty and Lamar Alexander (the last two voted to confirm Red Sonia Sotomayor) and the rest of those country-club Viagravators should get bent.
Grahamnesty : Does the depilated old queen imagine that thin, tight rictus passes for a smile? And that porcine nose, as though he were constantly scenting his own sulphurous fart. Would that Mencken were living at this day, to satirize this high prole come up in the world, or better yet Catullus, with his Celtiberian nouveaux riches proudly showing their teeth on the slightest pretext, freshly brushed with Spanish piss.
Speaking of country clubs, the principle-free zone that is Mitt “Stop Me if You’ve Heard Me Deny the Divinity of Christ Before” Romney, and the rest of the Grand Old Plutocrats, better be nice to Sarah. Remember the last banker with a personality bypass who crossed us and thought he could still be president? The one defeated by Perot and succeeded by Clinton?