Poetry
I am in a poetic angry mood. I could write all afternoon. I don't know if anyone will actually read this. When my feelings are burning I write.
Spaghetti Western Gunman
Lone man silhouetted in leather hat draws gun and fires.
blam blam blam.
Down crumples man in black blood running magenta red
cough cough cough
Dirty uncurling fingers drop steel revolver...
thump thump thump
Lone man boots track across the desert floor.
click click click
Looking down at corpse he gets harmonica and blows
wah wah wah
Thoughts
I am still thinking about the New Yorker. Despite its claim to represent the average American, the readership of the magazine is much richer per household than the average American family or $80,957 annual combined income in 2005 compared to a national average of $51,466. This shows how far from the roots of the average American family that this magazine is. It was originally published in the 1930s to sell in New York to sell to upper middle class families aspiring to be rich and cultured. As such, the style of the stories is aimed at that particular demographic. It has a feeling of pretentiousness to me which often comes from social climbers. It is effectively a yuppie magazine before there were yuppies.
The majority of the magazines readership is in California and New York, both democratically oriented states. If our library was in Chappaqua, New York, or possibly Brooklyn Heights in Brooklyn, it might be an appropriate place to look for reviews for our readership. I've said it before, I am not a fan of this magazine. The quality of the writing and choice authors are not in question. It is the style aimed at the readership. Also, the Obama cover bothered me a bit. I did not like it. Harold Ross, the founder of the New Yorker would have approved of the Obama cover, he was that kind of guy.
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