Friday, June 10, 2005

The ULA Victorious (Again)

The proof of the truth of what we say is in the silence of our opponents.

We've engaged in many debates (starting with the one with the Paris Review staff, in person, at CBGB's) and have won every one, big-time. I sometimes think I should let the other side score a few points now and then to keep them in the game.

In truth, those who represent the Voice of the Machine have nothing to say, can only stand frozen in place in the face of unstoppable change.

(To nonaligned observers: It's easy to see who's won the argument. The status quo continues on with the same stale ways of thoughts and modes of operation while history passes them by. The Underground Literary Alliance carries the power of ideas. History will judge our shows and books THIS year as the most noteworthy literary happenings of the day, because they mark literature's new beginning.The ULA is creating a record, presenting our case. Our opposition is presenting theirs-- the weakness of theirs-- now through their silence.)

It's comical, really. All these well-trained well-credentialed MediaBistro staffers, the System's best and brightest, and not one can summon the mental energy and intellectual courage to offer a reply. Believers in free speech! In reality open debate, full and honest expression, is the furthest thing from their minds. Their chief objective is to keep the Machine which controls and feeds them operating.

But I'll admit that even I'm surprised at the feebleness of these people. No doubt this is the first challenge they've seen-- EVER-- to their way of thinking. "What do we do? What do we say?" the jellyfish murmur fearfully among themselves as they huddle behind desks in their Manhattan office building.

All the greatness propounded on their site! Every detail of their wonderfulness! Mighty foes, one would think. It's a cardboard facade with nothing behind it-- stage scenery. The remaining actors prance ineptly about the stage. "Someone is watching!" a voice whispers from the wings. The stage immediately empties.

Blaring trumpets had announced the presentation! "MediaBistro!" the marquee proclaimed. "Tonight! A House of Players!" The cast listed in order, beginning with main star Laurel Touby. The program which circulated through the streets of the city stated Touby's many accomplishments and years of training. To this fulsome hype, an unwary spectator (me) purchases a ticket and steps inside. The theater is dark and empty. "Hello?" I call out, my voice echoing among shadowy seats. "Anyone here?"

A janitor steps out from a back corner of the vacant stage, visible in the pale red light of an "Exit" sign.

"They're gone!" he says with a puzzled shake of his head. "Someone said the word, 'ULA,' and they fled out the back door!"

The man steps closer from the back, holding a sheet of paper in his hand.

"But, the great actress Laurel Touby? What of her?" I demand as I make it onto the stage and face the man directly. "I read the program. They were supposed to be here. Tonight!"

It's all a mystery. The man hands me the sheet of paper. On it are twelve hastily scribbled words: "Ms. Touby is out of town and won't be appearing this evening."

The cleaning man has to smile himself at the actors' cowardly behavior. Maybe he's already seen enough of the self-important darlings. Maybe he's witnessed the play, and found it empty, as shallow as its players. He nods his head, with a hand on his broom, before turning away with a final commentary: "You'll find the rest of them at the nearest bistro!"

9 comments:

Jeff Potter said...

Galley Cat's BIG mistake was saying that she would apologize if proven wrong in her slander against us.

The proof was embarrassingly easy.

Now in addition to slander she's lying and renegging. This makes her and Media Bistro look bad. I mean, even newspaper gossip columns are held accountable. This is worse.

It's one form of cowardice to avoid engaging your enemy. It's another to lie. Their upcoming defeat will look much worse now.

King Wenclas said...

WAITING FOR TOUBY
Touby, or not Touby-- that is the question:
whether tis nobler to suffer
the slings and arrows of pretentious demi-puppets
or take arms against a sea of yuppies
and by opposing, save literature?

King Wenclas said...

p.s. Rumor has it that "Frantic" is lit-blogger Scott McLemee.

M said...

A Frantic Moose?

M said...

I had to laugh at Mclemee's third paragraph, the line, "do it for yourselves."

Was the e-mail not addressed directly to me? Is there more than one Marissa Ranello (wait, don't answer that....)

M said...

I'm sorry , that was vague. I was writing commentary on several lit blogs (Scott Mclemee's being one of them) on my LiveJournal over the past week.

My Journal

Apparently, Scott Mclemee decided to google himself back to my journal. I used my visual art talents, since, (according to Mclemee.com) my poetic abilities are weak.

*Note: he removed the comment about my poetry from his blog.

Scott Mclemee can refer to me as anything he wishes. I could care less.

How anyone can praise someone like McLemee, as a "literary critic," is beyond me.

Instead of putting words in Mclemee's mouth, I prefer to let one of his incisive comments display his own ability as a critic.

Fashback: 10/2004

Mclemee: "Having read some of the ULA screeds pardon, "manifestoes"),
I was struck by their resemblance to the work of Richard Kostelanetz. If, you know, Kostelanetz were under the influence of really, really strong medication."

It's amazing how they (McLemee, GalleyCat, Maud Newton, The Old Hag, and the likes) are so quick to "criticize" ULA members.

"We know it’s old hate to make fun of the ULA’s actual writing skillz, but is it too much to ask that the KING’S MUSINGS read as something other than idiomatic, bot-generated translations from the Swedish?"

But a small piece of visual art blows one of them to pieces? Have I gone too far? Perhaps it was all the "really, really strong medication."

Emerson Dameron said...

Thanks for clearing that up, Marissa. And thanks for directing me to Scott McLemee's website. He might be the dullest writer I've ever encountered, and an arrogant prick at that. (Hit "Ctrl-F," type "intellectual," and soak in the hubris.) He almost HAS to be "frantic." I can't think of anyone else that inarticulate who'd swing by here.

james chapman said...

Scott Mclemee in mclemee.com, 7/04:
"As some of you know, I am not a Friend of Eggers, and have taken some shots at said publication. Its pre-eminence among younger writers is one of those things I have never quite understood."

"frantic," here, last week:
"i dislike pretty much everything eggers has been involved in, and really despise some of it."

Jimbo said...

A more important question than, who is frantic?, might be, who is Scott Mclemee? His path from college drop out to working at the library of congress certainly does seem rather suspect, (what's the name of that cult and what role did they play exactly?). Maybe when his friend said he was a New York interlegjural maybe she was just subtly mocking his unfortunate physical appearance. I hope reading Heidegger helps to compensate; I'm sure the Herr Doktor Proffessor would be glad to know that he's finally good for something.