Man-oh-manna . . . I got torpedoes on my archinges and zealots at my heels; it's time for the SheenButNotHeard Fix what makes ya feels: You can whip it with a whisper, you can gnaw it with the blues; but, Chuck's got the wagon and we gots the news:
You gotta hand it to Mr. Sheen, Mr. Clean UP the ratings' races all over Media-Land places. Ain't never saw Two and a Half Men 'cause I don't watch TV at all. Don't own one, even. Never miss anything, though. Odd. I blame that cut-above scribe over in ARTS, that guy who's Irish whose eloquent way with words never ceases to slay me: John Doyle. I've been pumping his hits since he appeared on the small-screen scene. We e-met years and years ago: I tore a strip off him because he tore a strip off Layton. Beautifully. Pisst me right off :).
He practises everything McLuhan preached:
Your enemies are your best promoters. It's better than being banned in Boston. I think Chuck's banned everywhere but his house of Goddesses where he can clutch those Greenbacks laughing all the way to the brink . . . He oughtta count the horseshoes on his arse he ain't a country . . . yet. (Somebody's gonna freeze his assets; that's a fact upon which you can hock a whizz with sprinkle-sprizz.)
Funny. Reading all this mean-machine Sheen stuff, his famous family, his hellarious poetry-in-his-fingertips quips? Turns out he was telling the truth (or his vision / version of it. Same diff. Diff stiff). He has a volume of IT to his credit. A 1990 vanity publication entitled A Peace of My Mind. You can slurp up samples of IT in rotation at Gentlemen's Quarterly. IT is illiterate, gorgeous and perfekkly illustrated by director Adam Rifkin, a cross between Leonard Cohen and G. I. Joe with a Crumb of Cassius Clay to boot:
As he pulled his head, From the drool stained pillow, His eyes blood red, His oxygen shallow.
Feet on carpet, That pain to fight, These are the effects, Of another night . . .
- Chuck, "A Thoughtless Soul"
Great stuff. Like, totally sick. Man-oh-mannequins. Adonis DNA? <*Swoon.*> Mine eyes have seen the glory of the Sheening of the Light. Best publicity stunt and best man EVER to not coincidentally splash-lash out he's ridin' "a tsunami of media . . . on a mercury surfboard." Genius. Exactly what Maestro McLuhan opined concerning content and delivery systems damned near a half-century or so ago, now. (Small wonder his favourite story of all time, the one upon which he based his entire oeuvre in terms of communication theory, A Descent into the Maelström, was inked by Edgar Allan Poe. Time to A-Goglin' go? Me thinks so.)
To cut to the chase: The bigger the lie, the more gullible the public when it comes to swallowing it. Wild. What a boost for poetry, though. T-Shirts. Mugs. Kegs. Key rings. Onesies. Two-'n'-a-half tu-tuques. The moolah-making works. Everything handed to him in the name of his crazin'-brazen truthiness: The almighty dollar. Gotta love a guy who breaks through the fourth wall, fifth dimension, claims sixth sense, puts readers in seventh heaven with straight eights and TKOs 'em before they laugh their ever-lovin' hearts out somewhere in the vicinity of Cloud Nine, Daylight Saving (Nickel 'n' Dime) Time.
Sheenalicious delicious. O, to shimmy 'n' shine with REAL Goddessical-Sheen TigerBlood Wine™. Be-He-Man obviously gots great taste. And, somenone near you could teach him a poetrick or two ('n' a half). Betch yer beats. Spin-spin / Win-win . . . (Welp, except when it comes to winning in the pissing-contest department.)
Now, I can hardly wait for Planetary Poetry Month. Good thing it starts on April Fool's.
You go, Bro'!
p.s. All starcasm aside, this post has been brought to you by Tiger Blood Tijuana Hot Dogs, Billy Bob Thornton and Joaquin Phoenix . . . Just playin' . . .
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FYI: Ed-in-Chief Michael Mirolla seeks works for an upcoming anthology, Poet to Poet, with a dreadline of June 30th this year (and, no entry fee!). Mirolla: "We're looking for poems of any genre up to 60 lines together with back stories of 250 words maximum. The poems can be about poets living or dead, Canadian or non-Canadian. They can be experiential, speculative, sad, serious, humorous, light, narrative, non-narrative or any combination thereof (as long as they move us). Each poem must be accompanied by a back story telling what prompted its writing. Previously published pieces are admissible (provided the writer holds the exclusive copyright); but, we prefer new / unpublished work . . . Send one to three poems, each with an accompanying back story, to Michael Mirolla - either as a Word .doc or by post - Guernica Editions, 489 Strathmore Blvd., Toronto, ON M4C 1N8. Please write 'Poet to Poet Anthology' on the envelope or Subject line. (Email submissions preferred.) The authors of the selected poems and accompanying back stories will receive as payment two copies of the anthology; each author will additionally enjoy a 40% discount on subsequent purchases of the forthcoming work."
JSYK: The recipient(s) of this year's Proverse Prize for Unpublished Writing will be announced in Hong Kong Wednesday by Dr. Vernon Bickley, MBE. Read more about the shortlisted entrants - Patricia Grey, Lawrence Illsley, Gregory James and Gillian Jones - on this comin'-upper's going concern website.
