Sally Forth

Hey, remember The Fourth of July, 2003? We don't, but found this in our archives:

Fourth of July Fourthiness.

Independence is on the march, patriots.

& Recently . . .

Kurt Cobain's Ghost with an Invitation to a Fourth of July Picnic and Fireworks by Angela Genusa

"B.L.T.": A Review by Will Layman

Ten Tiny Poems by Brian Beatty

Angry Words from a Gnome Who to This Day Continues to Think the Human Genome Project Was Actually The Human Gnome Project by David Ng

Key Party, N.Y.C., Circa Always by William K. Burnette

A Day on the Phone with Mythological Norse Firewarrior, Bringer of Storms by Aaron Belz

Polish Fact

Temperate with cold, cloudy, moderately severe winters with frequent precipitation; mild summers with frequent showers and thundershowers.

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Quoi-ques; évidemms; ainsi bourdonnz.
Whatevs; obvs; so buzz.

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Tuesday, November 16, 2004   |    Fiction

What You Can Do with This Story

by Rita Kasperek

This story is to be taken liberally, directly after a meal. It is not intended for anyone 13 years or younger (unless accompanied by an adult) or for anyone with a pacemaker. It is available in Braille, Middle English, Ryukyuan, and Cajun and can be accompanied by a handicapped-parking sticker.

You may read this story alone, but I recommend reading it aloud to friends while bungee-jumping from a T-tower on the Las Vegas Strip with lit cigarettes and loose change in your pocket. Especially if you have the type of friends who say “dude” a lot.

If you are easily amused, you can send it to your friends who like to read words like “pee-pee” and “shat” (if you’re a Brit) and “pussy” and “suck.”

If you aren’t easily amused, you probably have to go as far back as Oscar Wilde to find a really witty piece of writing, although some say Philip Roth and Kurt Vonnegut Jr. have some humorous moments. If you’re looking for a funny female novelist, get back to me.

You can print it and smoke it.

You can take it to Kinko’s and print a thousand copies on goldenrod paper and stick it under the windshield wipers of every S.U.V. within a 10-mile radius. (Warning: Do not drive an S.U.V. while performing this stunt.)

You can print it and smoke it with crack.

You can take it to a local prison and use it to teach illiterate convicts how to read. You can also do the same by taking it to a local magnet school.

You can send it to your Russian friends who think democracy might be a good thing. You can send it anywhere in Africa where there is famine and disease and see if they find it as amusing as your friends who like doody words.

You can decide that this isn’t really a story and send a nasty e-mail to the editors, indicting the demise of contemporary American literature and using words like “narrative thread” and “character development” and “syntax.”

You can read it and decide it’s garbage and compose a rap song that makes William Shakespeare sound moronic.

You can decide this is a cool example of postmodernism and decide to write your own story because this is a really easy way to do it. Simply type and spout opinions. Don’t worry about connecting one sentence to another or one paragraph to another. (Don’t be a baby—give it a go! Submit the results to a really uptight, pretentious literary journal like Ploughshares or The Paris Review.)

You can read it and ponder it and then go home and watch “C.S.I.: Miami.”

You can read it and travel to Tibet and perform a cham wearing a yeti mask.

You can read it and go to a gun show and buy a shiny new 9mm Luger and take it home and watch “C.S.I.: Miami” and then shoot your brains out.

The printout also makes an excellent holder for clipped toenails.

Rita Kasperek writes, has a bad attitude, and enjoys all activities pursued from a prone position.