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July 31, 2004


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Turner boasts of a black belt in karate, but it's that sissy boy shotokan stuff and anyone who writes crap like has got to be a girlie man. The photoshopped, hot-or-not, Dennis Miller look alike photo at Tech Central gives me the confidence to offer 4 to 1 the Tutor makes him cry.

Turner boasts of a black belt in karate, but it's that sissy boy shotokan stuff and anyone who writes crap like this has got to be a girlie man. The photoshopped, hot-or-not, Dennis Miller look alike photo at Tech Central gives me the confidence to offer 4 to 1 the Tutor makes cry.

I'd give 4 to 1 he doesn't even rise to the challenge.

He will get the message, I would think. We are moving in the same circles here in Dallas, (Dallas Institute for the Arts), and on Lenore's mailing list. I would hope he would have the courtesy to deck me in return. Nothing is more humiliating than to style and profile about the ring, only to have you erstwhile opponent laugh and walk away. We could convene a Battle of Bombast and invite the whole nutty right wing A-Team. Can you see Ann Coulter as a Lucha VaVoom? http://www.luchavavoom.com/opening.html

Their A-Team alternates schizophrenically between childish treacle and spiteful innuendo.

The A-Team seems more and more like a re-run. They are like lapels that get wider and wider until they are ridiculous. Next year the fashion will change and, instead of Survivor and hate-radio, we will have inane reality shows about Uplift.

It’s unlikely you’ll get Turner in the ring, Happy. He’s a man of peace and reconciliation, you see, dedicated not simply to truth, (truth! not lies! truth!) but dedicated as well to firm Foxy civil speech over the incivility of hippies, and to open dialogue in crucibles of open left-right exchange like Tech Central Station.

Al-Jazeera = United Nations = New York Times = CNN = BBC= liberal universities = lies

Be fair, Happy. By Turner’s own admission in this moving poem, even quite clueless antiwar protestors can act out of “noble conscience,” at least given the condition that they carry his DNA.

“spent his father's money repudiating his beliefs”

(Admittedly, I am unaware of any quite single extant admission by Turner of the “noble conscience” of political opponents aside from his own children or father, saints both for holding views that are despicable when held by you or me. This is a complex matter but there is an explanatory poem forthcoming.)

We need dialogue, Happy. We need the full range of neuronal political viewpoints in our national brain, not the hatred of leftist radicals and decapitating liberal terrorists who disparage George Bush out of postmodern nihilism. We need dialogue. Love. Also hope for the future. Not liberalism, which is incapable of any of these. Also subtlety. It’s Turner and Candida who provide these goods, not you.

“Forgive and persuade me, if you differ.”

What a lovely gentleman and loving father. Forgive me! Persuade me! Debate as brothers, sisters! Compared to Turner’s moving tribute to civil exchange, what is your vulgar wrestling metaphor, Happy? Is it merely metaphor? Or does it betray the violence and irrational hate that lies (lies!) at the heart of your motivation?

I think we know.

Turner has no truck with liars who seek only the adulation of the infinitely liberal media. No truck with liars like you. And although he loves even such liars more than you are capable of loving—you, being a liberal and therefore hateful, and he being loving because he tells us so— he is nonethless clear about what’s ultimately in store for these liars.

There is no turning back of liberty.
And even force, compassionate yet total,
Must be its necessary instrument.

And when the torture chambers were laid open...
...the eyed griffin of Army Intelligence...



From Pound to Turner.

T.V, thanks, I have to trust you on your interpretatiom of Turner's poem like entity. I truly could not read it without doing violence to what little sensibility remains after 32 years as a common prostitute in the bondage business. Actually, I got through the first half on one go and then manfully went back for the second, as a man might swallow a toad in two gulps, on a dare. "Others," I said to myself, "have endured worse for their country. I will finish, at whatever cost."

T.V. honestly, do people read his poetry? I don't endorse it, or agree with it, or break in to braying cheers, but read it? Have you seen a person's eyes scan more than 12 consecutive lines, without blinking and closing, as groans give way to snores? Surely, anyone who has ever read a poem with appreciation can see that this is the work of a trained sensibility that has come terribly unstrung, under who knows what pressures. Those who love him, I am sure, see this as symptomatic, and do all they can to cure him. May their efforts prosper and may he recover, finding sanity, peace, and good humor among friends, far from public life, in some sanatorium in a leafy bee-loud glade. Dallas is hell on poets.

I honestly don't know about his reputation or reception as regards poetry. I fell on the narrative side of the narrative/poetry divide when I was a so-called professional, and I know nothing about the contemporary poetry scene. Ray Davis or Joe Duemer would be better guides to whether Turner is a heard-of.

He was a hyper-Hayekian left-baiting ideologue long before 9-11. The suggestion in that excerpt that his right-wing simplicities are the result of Iraq-war epiphany or family trauma won't bear even the most elementary scrutiny.

Turner is a fraud and attack poodle who's found a comfortable niche.

The staunchest opponents of leftists all have sinecures or tenure or both and Turner is no exception. He's a lesser light in fraud than Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh or L. Ron Hubbard, though he'd have been happy to work for either, and his vanity makes him think he's a warrior.

He may even know that his most useful function to his paymasters is giving them the opportunity to say the anti-war poets are not representative of all who have mastered the Art. He's shoddy goods, and a poor investment.

Leaves you feeling uneasy reading the poems. Lurid images, cant phrases, egotism. I mean they guy's bio is called "Genesis."

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