not falling down

In other Anacrusis-tangent news, I’m happy to report that Holly threw my gauntlet right back in my face and did, in fact, prove me wrong. I reprint her story-poem here, with her permission, to keep it from getting lost to the winds of LJ-feed comment rot:

The Burger King is fat with youth,

With adolescent pageantry,

With shining eyes revealing truth.

He’s fifty-two; unagingly

He lounges over golden thrones

With adolescent pageantry.

Unwrinkled cheeks, uncreaking bones;

But nothing sinster to dread.

He lounges over golden thrones.

No bloody baths, no gingerbread.

He chargrills souls to golden brown

But nothing sinister to dread.

Adorned with shining paper crown

His sceptre’s high; his forehead clear;

He chargrills souls to golden brown

And swallows them with ginger beer.

The Burger King is fat with youth,

His sceptre’s high, his forehead clear

With shining eyes revealing truth.

You won’t be able to read this without an LJ account and a membership in Anti-Afflatus, but the mighty Riana has posted a brilliant sequel to Asuka.

Lessig and company have been saying this for so long people have forgotten about it, but this is exactly why it’s good to let go of the protection and restriction of full copyright: if you let people use your cool stuff without begging and paying and declaring intent, there will be more cool stuff than there was before.

Aahhhh, I can’t do it! I did manage to write this within the constraints I imposed, but it ends up too incoherent to be a real story, so I’m sacrificing the basic premise in order to satisfy the extra ones. That’s weak. Ergo this isn’t going in Anacrusis, but I’ll gladly dump it on you here, where apparently I have no standards.

I no longer think it’s possible to write a terzanelle in 101 words that’s still a good story, and I’m positive it can’t be done in meter. I’d love it if you proved me wrong.

There’s little to Terza but her frame.

She rolls. Nine sixes again:

at the Thousand-Year Club they’re all the same.

They gambled away bad luck, when

they thought they were wise.

(She rolls nine sixes again.)

When age dulled their eyes,

they’d gamble that away as well,

they thought!

They were wise.

Terza chose to lose Hell

(she’d be different here);

they gambled that away as well.

Risk can’t be where fear

is not. Alone

she’d be different; here

she’s one more clone.

There’s little to Terza, but her frame

is not alone

at the Thousand-Year Club: they’re all the same.

Fitness Myths: Separate Fact From Fiction

Ah, yes, always good to know which myths are factual.