The Bain of My Existence
Written by John Erianne on March 18, 2001 – 4:44 pm -from (unsigned),
“….concerning Devil Blossoms #1, you are a filthy pornographer and a Satanist and I shall pray for you that you not burn in Hellfire.” (And I shall sacrifice a virgin in your honor. Thanx for reading.)
From Wanda Rimsek,
“. . . I have a gun and I know how to use it.” (So I guess the trip to New Orleans is off?)
from (unsigned),
“Hey buttwipe, this could’ve been a letter bomb. Next time, bro.” (Dear sir or madame. Thank you for your comments. Please be careful to avoid paper cuts as all my envelopes are licked and sealed by an AIDS-infected crack-whore.)
John C. Erianne,
I was appalled to see that your response to my submission was scribbled, in a third-grader’s handwriting, on a sticky note; not to mention it was an insult. (Hmm. So, the fact that I have poor handwriting is more offensive to you than the insult? I am truly insulted.)
When I, or any other writer, send out a submission with no typographical error, in perfect format, and in a professional manner, there should be an expectation at the very least for professionalism to be requited. (There “should be” an expectation? You mean you didn’t have such an expectation? Then you shouldn’t be disappointed.) Albeit the fault was mine. I should’ve done more research on you and your e-zine. (For one thing, if you’d done more research, you might have bothered to read my guidelines as well.) How could anyone match the ingenuity of John C. Erianne? (I was just asking myself that very question.) I was unaware that you had made such literary contributions as “TO THE GUY WHO STOLE MY GIRLFRIEND,” and “STATE OF ART,” which includes such telling lines as ‘the pay really blows’ — art at its highest apex. (Why, Thank you.) I’m jarred that you actually run anything considered an editorial; (Actually, I don’t know anyone who considers me an editorial. I’m sure they have more creative names to call me.) you should personally apologize to the world of literature. (Is it all right if I just send a telegram?)Your editing and writing skills would be more in tune with correcting mistakes on memos at McDonald’s. (Does this job come with free Happy Meals?) Also, you made the comment that there weren’t enough trees to produce enough paper to explain how bad my writing was. (One man’s insult is another man’s kernel of wisdom. And, as I recall, you did ask for my opinion.) If you don’t like my writing that’s fine; tell me what’s so bad about it. You obviously lack the skills to properly criticize. (Yeah, that must be it — or maybe it was simply that I didn’t have the time to spare and I was exhausted beyond the point where I could possibly give a damn. )
You’ve become what you hate. You have filled your former teacher’s shoes well. Congratulations on your hypocrisy! (Actually, I have nothing but respect for that teacher. Why? Because he made me realize that, while he was wrong in his assumption, I hadn’t shown him anything particularly impressive. But, I eventually did impress him, and you know what? He admitted that he was wrong about me. So, Matthew, show me something truly impressive and I, too, will admit I’m wrong. Otherwise, don’t suck my air with your horseshit.)
Sincerely,
(signed)
Matthew Lee Bain
PS. You were right about one thing. In your poem “FOR A FORMER TEACHER WHO SAYS I DON’T HAVE A FEEL FOR LANGUAGE, you said ‘language is a pair of soft wet genitals’. Well that sweaty testicle sack is stuffed in your gauche mouth. (You know, you could have just sent flowers.)
