Monday, July 30, 2007

Pseudo Grammar

Rereading a memoir by Zoe Trope. I'm doing it to put Red Shirt Man past me. I'm not strong enough to type the name yet. The best I can do is his initials. Which I have already recorded in a separate entry so I'm doing it again.

Anyway. Zoe Trope. She's vulgar, in a respectable way. She's also totally lost. Crushing on your gay best friend? Wow. Nice going.

Other than that she's shrewd and intelligent and she's painfully self-serving, but that's what give the memoir its edge. It's not an account of high school written by a middle-aged Jewish guy. It's the account of high school written by a 14-year-old girl with some major confusion going on. And really weird grammar. In fact, reading her memoir sort of makes me write like her. Like a subliminal trace left in your mind. Stopping short in the middle of sentences so they're not really sentences, just thoughtful phrases that are like pseudo-poetry. I'm just like... Whatever floats your boat.

I slipped a sandwich and a water bottle into my closet for Alan. I hope he eats it. Much less for the sake of his nutrition, but so that sooner or later he'll have to come out to take a piss.
I think he sees through my plan, though. He keeps offering to read Shakespeare, which is probably to get me to give up.

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