Change We Need !!!

Change we need.

I can get behind that, I really can.

Has there been any thought given to the silent repercussions of Obama being elected to the highest office in the land?

I wonder.

At work the other day I was privy to a discussion that I have heard several times before, but with a black man now in the White House I had to wonder if there was any credence left at all in his argument.

A listing for several highly sought after positions became available and, as you can imagine, a deluge of applicants descended on the hapless supervisor who was in charge of selecting 7 lucky employees.

Every time one of these positions has opened a particular black man who works in the warehouse applies, every time he is passed over, and every time I happen to be in close proximity to his complaining.

With him it is always another case of racism. He is just another overqualified black man being held down and crushed by the system. He spews the victim mentality and has for so long that it has become a crutch, and if it were taken away from him he would have no self-identity left.
He never asks who WAS hired into the positions. This time around there where two black men hired over dozens of whites as well as several women hired over men. The time before that these positions were filled with Muslims and Hispanics. There is absolutely no visible cause or justification for his complaints. But to hear him going on and on about it one begins to see the pattern developing inside of him. HE obviously isn’t the problem so it must be his skin color.
This crutch, at work again, is most likely the very thing that is keeping him down, a self-fulfilling prophecy. I don’t know of any employer who would hire a worker with this kind of cancerous attitude, breathing negativity by the pound and spreading work place virus amongst the employees that have risen above this extortion mentality. Yeah, I said extortion, what else could you call it?

If the supervisor caved into this type of extortion what parameters would she be setting?
"Unhappy with a certain situation at work? Threaten the company, play the race card, and we will cave every time." That’s regressionist thinking that drags the entire functionality of the system down the drain.

Then it dawned on me.

I asked him how he could make his assertion that the black race as a whole is being held down if a Black man had achieved the highest office in the land? Isn’t that proof enough that the playing field has been truly leveled?

I cannot tolerate the victim mentality from black America any longer. It is obvious that the idea of an impoverished black community, a black community that is being held down, a community that has no choice but to live in squalor and insolvent circumstances by white America is self inflicted. It is an excuse, a crutch that black society leans on and perpetuates. Obama has shown us that empirically.

He answered with the inevitable argument "Well, Obama isn’t really black"

And there it was.

Which is it? You can’t claim him as a beacon of justice and equality in one breath then disown him when his achievements threaten your illusions.

The NAACP is an exclusionary group that represents racism and occlusion, Barrack threatens to bring that idea to a head. Black comedians, speakers, and Black society as a whole, unchecked, have been allowed to spew hate and degradation toward whites for years because of this victim mentality.

What now?

All of that will have to be reexamined in the years to come. There is a serious reevaluation of social norms coming in this country and it will be interesting to see how it plays out. Can we really expect "Change we need" or will, like my coworker, they disown President Obama as not black so as to stay inside the cocoon of martyrdom?

Something Worth Noting

Since my abandonment by fanstory I have kept up with the site. I suppose it's one of those perpetual bouts I have with morbid curiosity. It's like watching the footage of Kennedy's head snapping back and to the left over and over, you know its coming, you know it's horrible but you just can't stop watching.

On some weird level I guess I'm justifying my low opinion of fanstory. Validating the fact that all things gravitating to it are being sucked down into a whirlpool of false hope and neglect. I have to say that my point of view remains consistent: fanstory still exists inside of it's own vacuum.

There is a sign at the front gate of fanstory that all members keep supplanted just behind the cerebral cortex. In massive, flashing neon it says "Thank you for not discussing the outside world". It seems that all of fanstory's successful testimonials are encapsulated by two words: "Self" and "Published".

Like the rest of the real world, I still believe that if your crowning literary achievement is self published then you really haven't been "published" at all. You've just been duped out of your money by good salesmen preying on desperation.

( I rule out my uncle on this one, he actually makes good money self publishing, though he isn't writing fiction. He's selling factual stories to an existing market of readers. So Kudos to you, Gene, I'm not lumping you in here.)

But this is not another simple fanstory bloodletting, though it may seem as such.

No.

Last week I actually found a poem posted upon fanstory with which I connected. Honestly, I can say this has only happened 4 times before. The poet in question shows promise, has an eye for detail and a gift for painting narrative. The subject matter is palpable and so familiar that I believe anyone can identify with it. I felt transported inside the poem, the environs strange and familiar all at once.

The poet calls himself Desertpoem and the poem is entitled Ode to a Traffic Light.
Here, now, are his words. I believe they should be read out here in the real world, not exclusively ignored inside the vacuum of fanstory.

Ode To A Traffic Light

Driving downtown,
chrome to chrome
caught every hanging light,
reds in a row--
exhaust was the reason this sunset bled,
as metal rivers reflect these currents
of our vanity, always the hustle
with an insatiable thirst,
crowded avenues on a collision course,
mean machines jacked-up in a mechanic's
candy-apple dreams,
and then off to my side...

It was heat suffocating in the teeth of August
and cheap Chianti overflowed onto tablecloth,
seating for two nestled back outside an open cafe,
red and white canopies uncover umbrella devour.

Unfinished plates take their coy empty stares,
awkward apologies as loose ends were frayed,
it germinated this spring from compulsive bloom
tangled secret deceit behind a motel room door.

The wine ignored and pasta cold,
requesting the check while impatience
strained as he glanced at his watch,
and I imagined from her mouth,
breathing between burgundy stained lips,

where are all the gentle men?

Across the street, a neon sign sizzles
above the tattoo parlor man,
alien surveillance in a rosy tint
as he folded dragon tail forearms,
and dangled a cigarette with a grin--
then the light changed to green,
and I drove on, driving downtown,
going home.

I love this snapshot frozen in time and want it pulled from the teeth of fanstory, where it languishes in thick witted anonymity, so that it can languish here, in the anonymity of my blog.

I'm not sure I've done the man any favors. After all, he may be looked upon with suspicion at fanstory.com since I've keyed in on his work. It's also not as if anyone will ever burn up the synapses of this server to read my words, but I wanted them acknowledged just the same. Granted, this poem isn't perfect. It could use a bit of editing, but, for fanstory, it is extremely close to being there.

It reminds me of a poem that I enjoy by Tom Waits called

Ninth and Hennepin

Well it's Ninth and Hennepin
All the doughnuts have names that sound like prostitutes
And the moon's teeth marks are on the sky
Like a tarp thrown all over this
And the broken umbrellas like dead birds
And the steam comes out of the grill
Like the whole goddamn town's ready to blow...
And the bricks are all scarred with jailhouse tattoos
And everyone is behaving like dogs
And the horses are coming down Violin Road
And Dutch is dead on his feet
And all the rooms they smell like diesel
And you take on the dreams of the ones who have slept here
And I'm lost in the window, and I hide in the stairwayAnd I hang in the curtain, and I sleep in your hat...
And no one brings anything small into a bar around here
They all started out with bad directions
And the girl behind the counter has a tattooed tear
One for every year he's away, she said
Such a crumbling beauty,
ah there's nothing wrong with her that a hundred dollars won't fix
She has that razor sadness that only gets worse
With the clang and the thunder of the Southern Pacific going by
And the clock ticks out like a dripping faucet
til you're full of rag water and bitters and blue ruin
And you spill out over the side to anyone who will listen...
And I've seen it all, I've seen it all
Through the yellow windows of the evening train...

That ending conveys the same feeling to me as Ode's "I drove on, through downtown, heading home"

"I've seen it all through the yellow windows of the evening train"

In both we are merely passengers inside the body of the poem, peering out of windows into a world that the poet allows us to see.

Great work, DesertPoem. I only hope you don't become as jaded with fanstory as I did before its all said and done.

My Year at Fanstory!!!!

Like a pusher on a playground, Gonzo was goading me to join him at fanstory with the old "the first one’s free!" He said, "I’ve found this online writing community. I think you should try it."

"I dunno, man, I already post to a few communities. What’s so great about this one?"
My resolve was in place but like any toddler curious to warp his reality I was beginning to dissolve my better judgement around the edges. I peered around it in earnest to get a better look at what he was offering.

"You get reviews, guaranteed reviews. I’ve been posting my stuff there and so far I’ve really enjoyed it. Besides, since the bands have broken up and are no longer recording your lyrics, you should post some stuff there, see how well it does. Hell, you’ve had work featured at "Literary Kicks" and you were a featured poet at "Antimuse" you should see what this new venue is like." He was closing in with the hard sell, pushing all the right ego buttons, winding me up for the addiction. I realize now how easily I offered up my chin for the sucker punch.

"Wow," I said "that would be a great way to start out a blog entry; you summed up my meager accomplishments with two sentences." And thus my odyssey of carnal and dark word addiction began, subtly. There are no sinister strings playing in real life, no soundtrack to the world of the living. If there was this would be where the big build up of swelling sound is injected, just after the opening sequence of a CSI episode, right before "Who are You?" accentuates the skyline.

Gonzo3712, as the online community then knew him, went on to explain how the writer’s website worked.

"It’s basically the same concept used to promote music at garageband.com." Gonzo knew me too well. He had put the hook in, and now was setting it deeper.

I spent hundreds of hours at garageband.com grinding out mindless reviews as music spilled out of my speakers. I would wash myself in the dulcet tones and let whatever stream of conscious images elicited by the music spill onto the screen. Each review and rating submitted allowed me to move our songs higher on the list of songs to be reviewed. After hours of repeating this exercise, our music was perpetually at the top of the list and we received hundreds of reviews.

This is the way fanstory worked, he told me. " Shit, I can do that. Hell, it sounds fun" I thought. My wall of better judgement now reduced to rubble and a crack filled syringe firmly thrust into the space between my toes. All those cautionary tales from my youth wiped clean by the seduction of words!

He persisted.

I gave in.

I opened a free account.

After looking around the site for a while I was surprised at how well the place was laid out.
You don’t convert the skeptical with dilapidation and refuse. There were no cracks in the architecture. This was a glowing monument to the pursuit of perfection, or at least it appeared that way to the casual observer. The intricate construction and fine detailed lines hid sickness. They hid obviousness. They hid self-importance. They hid a deep ocean of mediocrity and contentment with being mediocre.

I soon discovered there was nothing you could really do for free. All that was allowed was reading, and even then the only submissions you were allowed to read were those that writers had opened up to reviews from non-premiere members.

That seemed odd to me. Why would anyone lock out the reviews of non-premiere members? The whole point of submitting was to get your work read, right? Wrong!
This was extremely odd indeed. There was strategery afoot here only I didn’t know it yet.

The price of membership was roughly 7 bucks a month. Steve Martin’s voice haunted me as I thought about joining up, "Hey, I got 7 dollars; I think I’ll go throw it in the street. I can come in here for 7 dollars? Okay. What happens?" Those words echoed in my gulliver as I opened my premium account and the whole wondrous fanstory universe was opened up to me.

I should have my head examined paying for the right to post poetry and short stories online. There are literally thousands of places it can be done for free. But Gonzo had given the site his nod, and I was driven by the junky he had reawakened inside of me.

While he was there Gonzo and I had fun posturing and torching each other in the forums. He posted a few pieces of his work for public review, I read them, saw the reviews he received, all of them quite good.

His newly acquired wife cut Gonzo’s stay at fanstory short, however. She noticed one female fan in particular who had more than a small fascination with him, so she put the kybosh on fanstory. He should’ve seen it coming. The pitfalls of online community are great and divisive for the married. She closed down his word smuggling operation with speed and alacrity. Gonzo was strapped down in the back seat of her patrol car. I watched her blue lights fade as he blipped off the fanstory radar. A glazed look in his bloody eyes as he peered from the rear window, submissive to the whims of Wendy. And just like that I was left to my own devices, which really is never a good thing. So, alone and bored I decided what the hell, I’d fall in line and see what this whole system was all about.

I posted two poems that have been featured upon sites where more often than not submissions are refused if they are substandard. I received a handful of reviews from the fanstory readers, most of them saying "I don’t get it?" and that was it. "That’s it?" I thought, "that’s all I get for the hours of editing, omitting and tweaking my work? Four reviews that missed the point of abstract thought?"

I should’ve walked right then and there. I should have punched my time card, slid onto the cosmic express and ridden the tendrils of the web to someplace a bit higher up the literary mountainside. If I had thought to look up I would’ve noticed that there were no roofs in this rat maze of a site. I would’ve noticed that the high water mark was etched miles above this place. If I had only looked up…but a junky never looks up. It’s a sign of weakness in the city. It’s how they know you don’t belong, that you are a tourist. I did not want to be perceived as weak, so I never looked up.

"Its wike a fingoo pointing to the cosmos. Concentwate on the fingoo and you miss all that heavenry grory!" If Bruce Lee had only been there to swat me in the head as I focused on the hand of fanstory this whole mess could’ve been avoided.

Then I remembered the system. "Ah" I said to myself "I’ll review a bunch of people’s work here and move my poems up the ladder so as to receive more reviews." I clicked the "Begin reviewing" tab and took my first step into a sick and tangled universe of politics and nepotism.

I had been only a casual user at first. Now I was embarking into a sinister phase that would make me long for the days when I was only a junky. I was about to join the locked step of the truly depraved. All of us twisted on a quest for glory and acceptance from the rest of the rats not bothering to look up.

It works like this: if I want to move my poem to the very top of the list so that it appears on the home page I have to buy my way up the ladder with either real dollars or imaginary fanstory money. Each time you review a piece of….work…you collect the amount that the writer has attached to it. A poem that pays $ 1.30 is gonna get a hell of a lot more reviews than one that pays 27cents. It takes roughly 50 to 80 fanstory dollars to reach the top of the home page. The average review pays 60 cents. Do the math. That’s a lotta snow to wade through in order to get to the cabin.

And that brings us to the ranking system, one of the more detrimental aspects of fanstory. The system is what drove me insane with sickness and blind obsession. It ruled my thoughts, my actions, and caused me more sleepless nights than 4 kilos of pure Colombian flake. It actually WEAKENED my writing.

Premium members are automatically ranked in the genres that they post. Poetry, short stories, screenplays, etc. We were all obsessed with the ranking system. Driven by it. There is an obsession that goes beyond the parameters of decency. It is a cutthroat endeavor, a bloodsport that pits writers against one another. It creates a thin, fragile, tenuous atmosphere where every review is seen as either a volleyed attack or an appeal to join forces so that hand in hand you and your clique can march up the rankings ladder.

Writers receive stars from the reviewers for each piece they write. 1 star being the equivalent of fly doo doo, 5 stars being exemplary and then there is the 6 star rating. Each member has a finite number of six star ratings they can hand out per week. So if you receive one of these it is supposed to mean you have caused the reader to experience intergalactic orgasmic palpitations. The better your reviews, the higher you get ranked on the site.

Here’s what happens: I read someone’s poem. I hate it. I tell them why. I give them my opinion on what didn’t work and how it might be fixed. I then rate it with, oh let’s say 3 stars. Now I have effectively forced that writer to drop down one or more rungs on the evil ranking ladder. That writer reads my review, makes a note of my name, and then targets every single one of my works. Every time my work appears on his/her screen it is slashed to ribbons in retaliation to my review. So what happens? Everyone gets 5 stars from everybody at all times regardless of opinion. If you are honest, members and their clicks will mark you. You will be targeted and torn down. As a brand new member, I didn’t know this. So, thinking that people wanted honesty, I forged on.

The first poem I read was horrible. The meter was all over the place. The rhymes were obvious and the subject matter so worn you could see patches where it had gone threadbare. I explained what I disliked about the poem. How I thought it could be done better and explained that if the "poet" was going to write about this particular topic then he/she needed to do it from an angle which the thing hadn’t been approached. At the very least the "poet" needed to make me interested, I explained that if I wasn’t trolling for fanstory dollars I wouldn’t have read the piece at all. I slapped it with 2 stars then moved to the next.

It was worse than the first. I was drinking wild turkey on the rocks and reading this insipid stuff, each more lackluster than the last. I tried to be positive but the more I drank the more my tolerance level dropped. The end of the night is a blur, but I know it couldn’t have been fun for the poets getting those first reviews from me.

I was especially critical of anyone who was in the top ten on the list of poets. My theory was that if they were in the top ten then, dammit, they had better be stellar writers. They were not. The number one poet at that time and throughout the remainder of that year was a person calling himself Emotional Soldier. He was incapable of forming cogent thought. His subject predicate relation was horrid. Tense would shift haphazardly through his works. I’m telling you, without uncertainty, the man was practically a functioning illiterate and yet, here he was, number one on the site.

At that moment, that glittering lucid moment, during that pinnacled epiphany I should have dropped everything and walked out of the fanstory world forever. Only I didn’t. I was a man driven by pure, unfiltered, depraved ego. It was EGO. I had to stay on and post my work, if for no other reason than to expose these hacks and semi literates for what they were.

I have a set of buzz words I keep up in my noggin. If I see them in a poem they automatically throw up a red flag. They are overused terms that lesser poets use because they "sound" or "feel" poetic. I probably read the word "soul" at least 100,000 times during my year at fanstory and the word "heart" twice that. I gave extra points for poets who managed to fit both of them in the piece. After a good long jaunt down the corridors of fanstory all of the buzzwords were throbbing up in my Gulliver from severe overload.

I encountered Cauchy3 that first night as well. Wow. Really, that’s about all I can say, just……WOW! He is Chinese. I have no qualms with the Chinese. I think they are wonderful people and have advanced civilization exponentially with their philosophies and incredible ingenuity. But I want to post here one of Cauchy3’s poems. These are his words:

Wrongs and rights...
Threaten minds invited for all under controls.
States being grand are grant with powers.
Dip to set emotion pleased.
Graceful argued the picks in splendor crowns.
All illusions projects make chimeras.
China teaches the deer to fence the worlds.
They will kill the deer to filch our earths as then.
Flit as deer in governed worlds.
Paying masters ride the rumbles.
Rate the worlds with china ranks.
64-awes are all with meals in cold.
Wrongs to china wrongs are rights to rights.
----------Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3----------

Now you tell me, how do you review that? How do you tell someone where he went wrong when you know he has no concept of the language? God bless him, he is probably one hell of a dude, but, for crissakes! I mean, come on, read it again, really, stop here and read it again, I’ll wait………………………………………………… This poet was ranked fairly high on the charts.

When I woke the next day I had my first encounter with fanstory’s owner and proprietor, Tom Ens. Tom had placed me under super secret probation for being brutally honest with my reviews. He explained to me that I had to be constructive with my words. I had to tell the writer that he/she had done this or that correctly, but if the/she tweaked this or that a bit I think it would be better. In theory that’s a beautiful thought. The problem was that all I could tell 90 percent of these people was scrap it, its crap. So essentially what it boiled down to was, if a poet didn’t like your review he/she could cry to Tom and that was it. You went on the bad person list. I guess I lived there from day one.

I had been squelched by many of the writers at fanstory by this point. Each writer is allowed 3 members who they can block from viewing their work. After one night of honest reviews I had succeeded in making many squelch lists. I assured Tom in an e mail that I would play nice and he replied, rather cordially I might add, that it was cool just don’t do it again. It isn’t too hard to figure out Tom’s angle in all this. He sucks up to everyone that is paying him money. He has a pretty big, loyal group of members that are allowing him to remain in his mother’s basement while stocking up on his paypal account! Actually, I don’t know if that’s true about him, the mom’s basement I mean. You have to hand it to him, though, he really runs a great show. He had me fixing up daily on his site. If I’m to say this about him, what does that say about me? But in time it became incredibly clear that he wasn’t doing this to further great works of literature. He was doing this to fill his coffers, and that was it.

On I plodded reviewing piece after piece. It was arduous torture, a grueling test of my endurance, I assure you. But, after treading those waters for an excruciating amount of time, I had amassed enough fanstory money to post my work for a larger audience.

The real rules of fanstory were made evident immediately. I received glowing reviews from people who had never heard of me. I was told that I would do well there and that it was refreshing to read someone’s work who didn’t write exclusively about Jesus, cutting, child abuse, the death of a loved one, myriad descriptions of the sex act, or a broken heart. But those who had received my reviews, those who had been bruised by my blunt words lashed into me with furor and joyous abandon. I had poems that received several six star reviews then were sliced to ribbons by people who had a bone to pick. If I was going to hurt their ranking on the site they’d be damned if they were going to allow me to flourish.

The non premium member review came into play here as well. If you were a non premium member you could be as brutally honest as you wanted and the reviewed had no recourse, no opportunity to return fire as it were. I had pieces that were slammed by non members, ludicrous reviews and nonsensical statements abounded.

And sadly I must admit that I was no better than any of them with my reactions. I lashed back out immediately. I began clicking the box that made my poems viewable to premium members only. I watched as my work was dashed about by the sycophants and saw my rise up the glorious ranking system stymied by the malcontents. In short I had been totally indoctrinated into this whole weird religion. So blinded had I become that never once did I give a thought to where I was entrenched inside this weird world. If I truly felt that fanstory was inhabited by vanity writers who had no real desire to put out good work, then why was I in the trenches alongside them?

My wife tried to exorcise me of this conglomerate of a demon but I wouldn’t listen. Like a man possessed, I pressed onward posting piece after piece to either hollow praise or retaliation for the reviews I gave which were less than stellar. I squelched reviewers that slammed my work so that I could protect my ranking. Anyone who had slashed my work was now on a list I kept of people who’s work was to be derided. I entered contests that were sponsored by the site only to be hammered down by inane babble. The difference was that the inane babbler had campaigned for popularity, and in so campaigning had garnered the clique vote.

Not to say that there were no talented people there. I came across a very select few.

Milushka stands out. She writes freeverse poetry (which is a big hindrance with the whole "it ain’t poetry cause it don’t rhyme" crowd, and at fansytory that group is loud and massive!) with a passable voice for the abstract and obtuse. The only real criticism I have of her is that ALL of her work is blatantly about sex. It is one track and it is always on, always purring coquettish in her lines. She flirts with the men on the site and it works. They eat it up and give the hard on review. Most likely typing with one hand because of the photo that appears in the top corner of each of her postings. She (or at least the picture she has posted) is an eastern bloc beauty, naked to the waist in nothing but a black brassiere. This approach works, and she is currently in the top ten, I believe. Still I must say it is risky with the amount of fanatical Christians and militant women who are members, there is always the possible backlash of female jealousy.

Also Judian James seems serious about the craft. She actually tries to write better with each post. You have to respect that. Though I do hope she begins to steer away from some of the poetic clichés she sometimes drifts a little too close to.

Also Easy Everett has an impeccable sense of rhythm. Normally I don’t go in for the rhyming style but Everett was always a decent read. Sometimes even exemplary.

I’ll tell you, the laborious chore of reviewing enough pieces of writing to get my own work reviewed became overly burdensome. I would sip at a rocks glass full of bourbon for hours at a time reading and commenting until I was too lit up to be anything but honest. My liver was suffering almost as much as my brain. I was trolling through lines of drivel for hours, trying to give my insight to the authors and it was taking a heavy toll. That’s when I came across Louis’ Lady.

She wasn’t really that bad of a poet when compared to the rest of the writers at fanstory. That’s not to say that she was good by any stretch of the imagination. She had a decent command of the English language and also wrote with a pretty good grasp of what makes a poem interesting. She wrote with a power and a singularity of vision, passionate and full of emotion every word about one droning topic: her very real and intense relationship with Louis the XIII. "Okay" I thought "so this is kind of a cool metaphor, she imagines her muse as a long dead king of France." But as I read on and visited her profile I found that in fact she truly believes that her spirit is betrothed to his. She believes that he walks beside her, sleeps in her bed and gushes over her love poems to him. She is a self described psychic and Louis regularly assists her with her work as a reiki healer. That sounded reasonable to me. Doesn’t it to you? Nothing loony or off kilter there, right? I became so sickened by this imaginary gush fest that it literally turned my stomach. She is a pathetic person, living a lonely, pathetic existence who harbors a large amount of pure venom towards anyone who forces her to look at the real world. So, after reading her work at length, I reviewed her. I stated that the obsessive nature she has with Louis is a little frightening and that she might need to seek help from a psychiatrist.

I logged on later to find that my account had been locked down once again. LL had become frazzled at my comments and demanded my ousting from the site. But as fanstory is nothing but a vanity press in online form, Tom isn’t going to wipe out a paying account over something so trivial. I was forced to apologize for the comments and all was well. But LL never stopped calling for my ousting from that point on. She considers the fact that I am no longer at Fanstory one of her crowning achievements.

I began reviewing reviews. That is to say, I would dial up a work, not even scan the thing, just go straight to the most recent reviews posted for it. Then I’d parrot what had just been written and slap a 5 star rating on the thing. Damned if it didn’t work. No one was the wiser and I collected my money, never once thinking that this was going on with the work that I had posted, though now I am convinced it was.

Then it hit me, a rare and beautiful idea. I’ll write one generic review, cut and paste it into the comments section and slap a 5 star rating on each work. Voila! I cranked through at least 60 or seventy pieces and amassed a fortune in about an hour. I posted my poem at the top of the list and enjoyed the many reviews that rolled in.
Wanna read the review that I wrote? Here you go:

This is a jewel, a superb example of the use of light and shadow and how they can be juxtaposed inside a written piece. Truly a pleasure to read and review. Thanks for posting Here at fanstory.

I discovered that if you receive enough 5 and 6 star reviews you receive the fanstory "seal of approval" which means that your poem was reviewed a bunch and the sycophants slapped you with 5 stars so as to collect your money for their coffers. All the poets with the "seal of approval" were the most active on the site. I had found the loophole in the system; soon I would be climbing the charts.

But it was not to be. A few people compared notes and discovered what I had done. My account was again suspended and I had to tell Tom that I would never do this again in order to be allowed back on the site. I promised to behave and the ban was lifted. So it was back to the old scan and rate system that, after my epiphany, was even more arduous than before.

Then I discovered something I had not seen before. Apparently there is an elite circle of published writers and English majors who will review your work if you pay 10 fanstory bucks per reading. In the forums I read comment after comment from the "poets" there that getting the golden seal (which meant that in their eyes you were publishable) was nigh impossible. Each said that the reviewing process was very in-depth and the critiques were incisive and helpful. Each also said they had tried on several occasions to pass muster but each time had failed miserably. So I looked into this process.

For 10 fanstory bucks you submit a journal of your work and when the pros review it you see each one’s comments verbatim. You are either granted the "pro status" or you are left to languish with the amateurs. I bundled up ten or so of my poems, paid the fee and submitted my journal. Not only was I awarded the pro status my first time out but somehow they gave me a level 2 status, bypassing the level one completely. I guess I’m just that good!! Or they blundered, which is more likely.

I just shook my head in wonder. "This was hard?" and these "poets" who couldn’t even be deemed publishable on their own site were ripping my work to pieces.

Even after receiving the level 2 pro status on my account (which ultimately allowed me to charge people fanstory dollars to look at my work) none of my poetry was being considered for poem of the month and I wasn’t making it to even the finals of any of the competitions. It became very clear that politicking and posturing for popularity status was what made winners, not real talent. It seemed that the granting of said status was to be the pinnacle of my accolades there at fanstory

The mass majority of the readership there prefers to be spoon fed their poetry. The term "as obvious as bad poetry" springs to mind as I glance back. I actually was receiving one star reviews of my work with statements like "I don’t know what you want me to do with this. It’s as if you’ve driven a car up under my radiator cap and want me to fix it (?). Respond to me and tell me exactly what I am supposed to get from this poem and I will possibly raise my star rating." Is it me or doesn’t a point of view like this one pretty much remove the purpose of poetry all together? Here is the work to which he was referring.

She folds back a sheet of dust
To show the room steady
with metronome ticking.
A child’s scrawled name,
marks each inch that
has climbed through slow years.
She speaks, but her voice is in the way
murdering language one syllable at a time.
Wheels diseased with spokes
Flat in the gutter of her throat
where her words lay half choked
out into the dust at her lips.
This new English without consonants
spoken between clutched breath
spills vowels out
onto a suicide beach.
whales swim through it
black backed in wet sand
sheathed in powdered light
they understand her hump backed
words, croon and curve the lonely
arc , low in the salt spray sound.
Drying to dust in the place
Where noise ebbs away
to form the four gray walls
that shake with each
Click of the metronome’s arm

I was so worried about my ranking that I did just that. I went back and gave an explanation that satisfied him enough to slap 4 more stars on the piece. Placating the reader, that’s what poetry is all about. You need to figure who will be reading your work, try to determine the lowest common denominator, then dumb down the piece so that it doesn’t require any of that annoying thinking thing that some people do. And, obsessed with the rankings, that was just what I began to do.

At this point I was flummoxed. I finally came to the conclusion I should have at the outset: Fanstory had nothing to offer me in the way of broadening my horizons. If anything, my work began to suffer. I was deliberately dumbing down and sensationalizing my poems in order to appeal to a broader audience, but even that became fun in and of itself.

I would put together the worst thing I could cobble together, run it up the list and BOOM it would be lauded as genius. Once I thought, "I wonder if I could put the words ‘placenta sack’ into a poem and get good reviews. I wrote a poem in which the protagonist discovers that the gory mechanical details of animal birthing turns his lover on. At its conclusion the two of them are ……. Well I’ll just post it.

I could touch heaven from the perch where we stood
held rapt by the glory of earth, stone and wood
As animals yawp the songs of the wild
from placenta sack bursts the slimy, thin child
The old mother's udder, a dangling teat
she first offers up a nutritious treat
The old bovine smiles as we gaze out upon
this shaky red youth caressed by the dawn
on waifish thin legs he stands caked in blood
he could use a tub of fat rendered suds
this joyous wonder is not lost on us
I turn to you and unbuckle my truss
on this perch touching heaven, I finally knew
that birthing of cows is what does it for you

I received loads of great reviews for this one. One person even said that she understood the sexual attraction in this act. WOW, now that’s sick.

I began writing about new perversions that I made up. I wrote a poem about elbow licking. They LOVED it. Or maybe they loved the money I was paying them to love it. Most likely that’s the case.

I had given up on the site. It was now nothing but a bauble, something to be toyed with for sick amusement. I revisited my epiphany. Sure, I got busted when I pasted the one review over and over, but what if over the course of say, a month I was to write out as many generic reviews as possible. Could I then cut and paste them along with 5 star reviews continuously? Surely someone would catch on. I had given up on this being anything but an experiment at this point, so I gave it a shot.

Employing the astrologer’s theory I wrote many short quips that could be applied to any bit of writing. I decided that if my hyperbole was so over the top that even if someone suspected me of doing anything out of sorts they would be so overwhelmed by the review that they would WANT to believe in my sincerity. So that’s what I did. I’ll tell you, the writing of those reviews was more gratifying than anything else I did whilst at fanstory. And, baby, I laid it on thick. Only once did anyone begin to catch on to my knowledge.

Judian asked for specifics in my reviews, not just hollow praise. So I had to skip her work all together when zooming through the grouse.

I will list every one of them here so you might see exactly how far over the top I went with these reviews and how many I wrote so as not to get caught. There are a lot of them but I want you to appreciate the enormity of my work. Here, now, for the first time I give you the complete list of the "set reviews for fanstory":

This is a jewel, a superb example of the use of light and shadow and how they can be juxtaposed inside a written piece. Truly a pleasure to read and review. Thanks for posting
Here at fanstory.

Thanks for posting here at fan story. Wow, I really enjoyed this one! You have the voice of a master storyteller and it shows in all the vivid detail of this one. Not a word out of place, you really nailed it on the head with this one.

I must say that it is work like this one that really makes me enjoy reviewing the words here. You exemplify raw unbridled talent and it is the kind of stuff you cannot learn in schools, Great job.
This was well executed and the structure supports your words gracefully. I enjoyed this one immensely and am proud to have had a chance to review it. Thanks for posting it here at fanstory.

You are on to something with this one and I assure you it was not lost on me. You have a true god given talent with words and it shines through the words brilliantly thanks for posting here at fanstory.

Well, I will tell ya, this one took me by surprise. I was expecting more of the same old drivel here, but you hoodwinked me with this exceptional bit of writing. You have a will of iron and strength of steel and your words do not falter. Great stuff.

I love this one. Your pace and flow are superb and you do not cut any corners to get that brilliant reaction from the reader. You circumvent the topic with a verbal assault that truncates the issue and lays it all bare. Great stuff. Thanks for posting.

This one is right up there at the top of the list of what I have reviewed today. A
Superlative example of simply the way it is done. Thanks for posting it here at fanstory.
Your wording is unique and exquisite with detail. I was floored by this one and look forward to more. Keep up the good work! Thanks for posting here at fanstory.

You have bitten down into the subject matter with gusto and the words are bleeding meaning all over the screen. You seem to write without a net, a dangerous endeavor that works because of your abandon. Great stuff.

This one has all the earmarks of brilliance to it. You have flogged the thing into literary submission with these dynamic phrases and I salute you for it. Direct and to the point, well done. Thanks for posting here at fanstory.

You have risen up above the mediocrity that can bog down the reviewer here at fanstory. Sometimes the grind of doing this for hours can get the reader into a rut, but this one was head and shoulders above the others I have read recently. Great writing.

You have a voice for the ages and it breaks through your words with a shimmering quality that I have not read in recent months. I am pleased to have had a chance to review this one.

Well, done, and again I say, well done! You have shaken the boundaries of heaven to their very soul cores with this piece. A lovely commentary on the human condition, spot on my friend.

You are the Lord of all you survey in this literary world. Such crisp and vivid detail, a sharp image that stays with the reader long after the reading is done. Wonderful stuff, really.

It takes courage to lay this kind of work out there to be witnessed and judged by so many, and you have it in spades. This one was risky but you pulled it off and turned it into solid gold art. Thanks for posting here at fanstory.

There is something special about this one. You gripped me at the outset and kept me enthralled all the way to the bittersweet end. This was a joy to read and to review. Powerful stuff.

You have written a taught piece of masterwork here that shimmers with the verbiage of a true stylist in every sense of the word. This one is ready to go up on the block and have the full weight of publisher judgment passed onto it.

Sharp witted and tactical in its usage of wording, this one screams for recognition and I cannot help but give it. You have outshone the rest and I am agog at your superlative efforts. Thanks for posting.

This sweeping piece takes the reader into its underbelly and exposes the very heart and soul of style. The inner clock workings of this one tick with the precision milling of a master craftsman, Good show!

This is one of the better things I have read here today. You are onto something with this one, my friend, and I for one am not too blind to see its sparkling merits. Keep up the good work.

You have achieved a level of expertise with the written word that one does not see everyday. It was exiting to discover this one on the website today. I was lucky to be reviewing and catch it at the right time. Bravo!

You swirl words around like finger-paints, the effortless way that they just tumble right out there onto the screen is brilliant. You are a true talent, A deity among the small minded. Great stuff. Thanks for posting.

True craftsmanship to this one. It is obvious that you choose your words carefully and make the perfect decisions every time. I loved this one. Thanks for posting.

This one has an impeccable sense of pace and flow. It glitters with an inner style that is all its own. You hit it out of the park with this one and I am lucky to have reviewed it. Thanks for posting.

There are so many things that caught me off guard about this one. That is what I appreciated about it the most. The way that I was knocked off balance by the piece. I thought I had it nailed down then you switched gears on me. Great work.

You have perfect pitch when it comes to making a point with words. It is like listening to a sonata by a master composer, for composed you have. Great stuff here, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

This one was a pleasant surprise to read. Not the same old thing here, no, this one is fresh and tightly woven into a perfect mesh of words. You have done a great justice with these words.

You have a two fisted style that rings with the true sounds of iron and steel hard against these impenetrable words that you have built up here. This one was a joy to read and review. God bless!

A wondrous read, pitch perfect pace and flow to this one. I was gripped from the outset and it just kept getting stronger as I went along. You have a true talent with words and it was a joy to see what you have achieved! Thanks for posting here at fanstory.

This one runs rings around most of the other stuff I have seen here today. It is Truffles from the moon, Sandalwood from Nineveh, A rousing hymn from the mighty atop Valhalla. Great work and I salute you for it, thanks for posting.

This is good, straight forward, and just plain great, well written with the style and grace of a master writer. You have put something very special down on the screen here and I like it. Thanks for posting here at fanstory.

This is a hearty blend of metaphor and simile, with strong dashes of prose. You have the makings of a delicious feast for the eyes here. Thanks for sharing. It was a pleasure to read and review.

You got this one down perfectly, like sinking the cosmic eight ball in Gods corner pocket. You ran the table with this one and I loved watching the master strokes that you laid down. Great stuff.

You are a verbal maestro and the empty screen is your instrument, the readers eyes are the vivid ears of the world and you are blasting the tune that keeps it all together. Great stuff, glad I got to review it.

Sometimes you eat the bear, sometimes the bear eats you, and you downed the beast with one broad, bright gulp. This is staunch and powerful writing. I loved it, thank you for sharing it with us here at fanstory.

You have a pace and style all your own. A distinguished manner of putting down words that are sharp and joyous to read. Thanks for posting this here at fanstory.

This was a gripping and powerful write. I could barely even blink my eyes as I was straining to take it all in as quickly as I could. You caught me up in the flow and swept me away!

This is good work. A simple approach to intrinsically intricate subject matter that lays the work evenly so that it railheads into the mind with sweet satisfaction. Thanks for sharing.

Wow, I am almost speechless after that one, hard to find the words to put down following that super write. I am just so glad that I got a chance to read it, thanks for posting here at fanstory.

This was a great write, tightly woven and well executed. This one was written down with grace and aplomb. This was a pleasure to have read and reviewed, thanks for posting it here at fanstory

You display an inner dignity to your style that glows like a bright soul. You press the words from the edges and squeeze every ounce of meaning from each word. Just great writing, what else can I say?

Words fail to do what you have written here justice. This has far flung aspirations and hits its mark with wound up precision. You can topple the stars with this style of writing and then cook your food over the blue flames of heaven!

This was a masterful write and a dignified write. It was sheer joyous entertainment to read. Great pace and impeccable flow set this one apart from the pack of mediocrity. Thanks for sharing!

Simply put, this was perfect, just a pleasure to witness this kind of fluid talent on the screen, it oozes satisfaction as it drips down into the senses of the reader. I am very happy to have had an opportunity to review this one, thanks for sharing.

There is not one ounce of fat on this one, you have skillfully trimmed away the unnecessary and we, the readers, are left with a sleekly written piece of perfection. This is what so many of us here strive to accomplish and you have it stored up like gold right here on the screen!

From the lips of the almighty, to your pen to the blank page, you have truly captured the words of divine inspiration. Reading this was like tapping into an open channel of pure creative inspiration. Thanks for posting.

I must say that reading this has made my day a little bit brighter, You have talent, my friend, and do not let anyone say any different. This one was pure adrenaline joy to read and review.

You got my blood flowing and heart pumping electric wine with this one. I am intoxicated by this heady brew of verbally exquisite, tasty colors. This is a veritable smorgasbord for the senses!

This was well executed all the way around. I find nothing wrong with these pure and beautiful words. You have shaken the heavens with your words and the angels are weeping!

It is as if you have pulled a razor from your boot and all these perfect words fell like pigeons at your feet. All you had to do was effortlessly arrange them onto the screen and BAM, masterpiece!

This writing is lucid and beams with an inner glow that lights up the page with truth and virtue. Virtue, hell yeah, that is you, a virtuoso of the literary world. You got it all down here perfectly!!

I loved this one, pure and simple, actually I don’t think love is a strong enough word, it should somehow be stronger Lurve Lufft LUUUVV LUFTED Larva Lova well, I guess love will have to do.

I feel as if I have just completed an emotional marathon with all these emotions flushed across my psyche at once, you have a gift, baby, let the world know it!! Thanks for posting it here at fanstory.

You have a voice of the ages, this speaks to the heart of man without losing that intellectual edge that is needed to keep the writing tight and in the readers face. You have really driven it home exceptionally well with this one.

This one has restored my faith in humanity, truly. You have a proclivity for getting it right and doing it with the stroke of a master storyteller’s hand. A great accomplishment, I must say.

Words are definitely your strong suit and you wear them like a fashion magnate. You write with all the color of autumn yet the warmth of the summer sun and the exuberance and promise of springtime. A cornucopia of style and grace.

There is nothing I could add or say really, in the wake of this piece of writing. I am stranded in its wake, really. Just shipwrecked by these simple and gratifying words. WOW, I think that best sums it up best, wow.

There is nothing sloppy or out of place with this one. As Mozart said, you, like he, did not use one more or less note than the piece required. I think that is a very fitting review of this piece and puts you in the pantheon of which you deserve.

You really wrestled this one down onto the page with a steely eyed wit and grapplers precision. I see a load of style and technique to your work and I must say Bravo indeed, bravo to be sure!

You had this one up against the ropes from the outset and you moved in for the finish like a prize fighter in top form. You have a style and sense all your own and it was my deepest pleasure to have had a chance to witness your handiwork.

This one is a litmus test for perfection, truly. You can hold ninety nine percent of the work done here at fanstory up alongside of this one and it will be a barometer for just how it should be properly done.

You have that sharp witted sense about your style that many of the subversive greats had about them. The Kerouacs, the Baudelaires, the Bukowskis, The Burroughs, they all came from that outcast cloth that you seem to be shredding with your intensity.

This was a great write just a joy to read and review. You have put something that matters down onto the page and I for one am happy to have had a chance to review it. Thanks for posting it here at fanstory.

This is rife with truth and dignity. You are a wordsmith of the highest caliber and I salute your incredible style and sense of nobility. There is a gracefulness to the way these words move across the screen. You have IT!

has a beautiful pacing loosely woven into its opulent fabric, like a counter weave that holds the subtext to a higher standard than possibly even the overt wording is held, and that is the sign of a master at play in the fields of literature.

I get the feeling from reading this impressive piece that somehow you have tuned into the celestial radio station broadcasting inspiration from the vast beyond. Your words are alive with bright detail and strike as hard as steel. A spectacular piece. It was a sheer joy to read!

There is a distinct style to what you have put down here and it is a big cut above basic. This thing glides with the uniqueness and streamlined body of a high performance automobile, sleek and sensual but powerful enough to weave through the intricacies of mundane traffic. Thanks for sharing.

I don’t know what else to say but dynamic! That is the word for it Dynamic. It pulled me in at the onset and didn’t let up; it even stays with me as I write this review which I suppose makes it haunting as well. Wonderful work, really.

You have tripped the light fantastic with these words and used them as a springboard into the pool of humanities collective soul. The human condition is shot all through this masterful piece and it binds us all together as readers because it just rings so true.

I loved this one. You have shaken up my world with this one; it is deep in the truest of senses and spirals recklessly through the senses scaling the heights of superlative structures. Great stuff, just phenomenal.

You have worked your magic around this one. Everything is just as it should be, nothing is out of place and the style, voice and texture of it are spot on impeccable. This is verbal paradise and I am happy to have reviewed it.

This one just can not be denied its place in the pantheons here at fanstory. Small time napoleon has shattered his knees but he stays in the saddle for rose. That’s what I make of this, it is a tangled and distressed thing that must be heard, beautifully broken and shaped by the wind.
You pulled this one down from the cosmos and it glimmers with the madness of reason. A shimmering view of life in a fantastic swirl of beautiful words and heady dramarama. Thanks for sharing this one.

This one carries the reader downstream on a raft of words tied together by the hands of a master craftsman. I was swept through the currents breathlessly and left to drift calmly exactly where I should’ve been. Great stuff, truly.

An incredible Cinderella story bound to the page with gusto and reserve. You have a beautiful follow through and you have to be pleased with the outcome, I know I am greatly. Thanks for sharing it.

You got behind the mule and plowed the fields with precision and aplomb when you laid this one out on the page. It is a dramatic testament to what is possible when you build your entire will and strength into your work, the effort was not lost on me, I assure you.

You kept the string taut with tension and released the action at the most proper point to achieve maximum satisfaction, a great sweeping work that stays with the reader long after the reading is done.

This is like a dusty road from Ottawa to Patterson along the wreck of the Weaverville stage. It is punctuated with vivid views of what is and what could be. It encompasses the joyous outset of a journey yet never releases the definite possibility of danger and despair. I loved it.

You have pinned your ear to the wisdom post and your eye to the line of demarcation, never treading past the boundary of good taste and virtue. This was a pleasure to read and review.

This is like a jack hammer siren bouncing off of the horizon, it is sharp, tender, and demands recognition because it deserves recognition. In the moment that it matters your confidence was not shattered, you came through with bright flowing colors and it shows with this great piece of writing.

You got yourself a home made special and your glass is full of more than sand. This is the genuine kind of experience that I love reading. It is educated but it isn’t the kind of thing that you can learn in school, no, this is sheer life and experience speaking fluidly.

Ghostly ,misty .Driving like rain. The rhythms are Aztecan and move with taxidermist raw precision. Promenade this up and down junkie street and you're sure to get beads! The writing is needle and camel conducive. Deep chocolate rich tone, intriguing piece altogether.

True lyrical genius. I am agog from the poetic structure that you wield like a well honed Katana. Metaphors indeed, they fall short, I am at a loss .Impossible to weave the words to describe this wondrous piece. Thanks for sharing it here at fanstory!

A swirling mesh of truism, I'm lost in the vortex of the word, pulled completely in to the center of the thing, I am encompassed, everywhere I turn I see the sound break into bright prisms and beyond that I sense the darkness at its corners. The crevices are carved perfectly and beckon from the dark depths. It all works,

Crunchy and glassy. It shimmers. I like the way you have laid this one down, a convergence of squeaky corners and velvety smoothness, but at its center it's all disenfranchised and disillusioned heartfelt angst. Keep it comin'! I enjoyed reading and reviewing it!
The words stab the structure like knives, holding it firmly together, bleeding glue all over the piece. The mix is cohesive, viscosity in a nutshell. A good red wine at midnight with friends .A warm fire and a garden hose.

I loved it, really, thanks for sharing
Ashy and graphic. Lurid and clothed with ice and Gin. A choppy ride on chaotic sound waves with a liquored up troll at the wheel. A telefunken nambulator spinning sideways on this rocky and rumbling piece of intense writing. Good stuff.

Big words, grand and tempestuous, it’s all here, no need to go any further. Nothing truncated or deleted here. A total package, soaring and big. The nature of this one is quite fearful. Your words are catchy well executed .all in all you have put together a great piece .You should do VERY well with this one.

There is beyond the azure blue, a scene concealed from human sight. The space between time and distance is thin but it exists, and through these cracks in the fabric you can step into a place where robots control the mail and demons are stealing luggage from overhead compartments. This piece is tasty and sideways. It fits in the overhead bin, or under the seat in front of you .It is well put together so you can do those kinds of things with it. Good work all kidding aside, seriously, great work on this one!

A languid strum starts this fragile universal piece .A dainty hand holds these glass words by the fluted stem and swirls. This has legs, it is thick as it bleeds down the sides of the glass slowly, filling the bottom with sweet goodness and hard sad loneliness. This is a serious outbreak of emotion from a crushed thing, lying lifeless beneath the spinning wheels of a calloused lover; the stark pain and anger are brilliantly interplayed against the soft gleaming perfectly placed words!

What is the meaning of dreaming? Its definition can be found inside this cryptic masterpiece. This catches the reader by the inner ear and demands attention immediately .A stone in the rhetorical throat of society,this will shake the timbers of the soul and bring inner strength through a perfect balance of melody and distorted angst. Writing for intelligent adults "the chains that hold you down should be the chains that set you free" cryptic genius shot through. Great job

These thin-lipped words come across as an introverted stab at the faceless world .A call to arms for the decent folk who hide in fear and let evil rule with an iron fist. There are great doses of love here, this is manufactured genteelly by a caring writer who knows the craft and let nothing put asunder the work that falls wonderfully from those gifted hands .A heady mead for the slack jawed few that overlook the nuggets.

Snowy and lilting, this falls out of the sky like an eulogy for something big that's dwindling softly. A maudlin tapestry that speaks open and frankly; opting for strong reality over leafy bulbous metaphor, this is an unflinching look into the mirror of pain, self doubt and slowly fading mirth. Small feet falling on crunchy snow, you really waded through the mire of life to get to the cabin and these words you have written show it!

This is one of those snapshot in time pieces ,great character study that sits heavy on the mind of anyone who isn't to dense to listen. This is intelligent writing for intelligent people I would peruse the dark bins of strange used bookstores stores to find it.

This comes out of the East, low and slow like metallic birds against the sun, sketched by a traipsing guitar and a liquid horizon. This strikes a blue hue musically and transcends the reader to some soft alien horizon where slap back delays flourish tastily and frolic among the strange grasses and graves hewn with names impossible to read from strange rock formation headstones, all is wonder and life. I like it. It is delicately understated and pours through the brain like soft candy, great moody writing!

This is compelling and echoes like darkness and tunnel grey. Slide whistle space and room to grow inside the abyss of tranquility, the driving beat still forces open the eyes. I like the interplay of subtle building tones against a sinister altar of twisting rhythm. It goes dark and swirly with passionate tapestries that hint at anger and soft love. This is well crafted. A safe haven from the social erratic storm that blasts good sense from the brains of infantile taste.

This is the kind of writing that should come with a warning. If the reader cannot take a full on uppercut to the chin than he or should would be advised to steer clear of this powerful work of art. If not careful you may end up killing someone with work this strong!

I was entranced, educated and entertained by a rich comic stew containing love, speed, power, and death... This is wise, practical, articulate, inventive, elegant, engrossing, funny and civilized.
This is broad, at times scurrilous, and contrasts pleasingly with the lyricism of the scenery; earthbound vulgar humans versus angels in flight.

A stylish satire, the cult of human frailty and the moral limits to which its adherents will go... a mixture of the fluently cerebral and the downbeat demotic... passages are in turns intense and passionate and full of terse and informative asides.

Reading this gives the reviewer the distinct sense that you are a human being with a soul and the divine gift of articulate speech: that your native language is the language of Shakespeare and Milton and The Bible; and you splice through the simple and mundane with the evolutionary skills that these forerunners have left you.

People seem not to see that their opinion of the world is also a confession of character, this thought pops into mind upon reading this. Mainly because you’re confession of character is at times fragile, bold, strong, and centered, but never without merit or uninteresting. A great read.

You have hardwired the cosmic spark of reverberating inspiration to the nerve endings inside the dead wood that surrounds the lead of a soft yellow lacquered number two pencil. The words spark out of its point and arc out across the page with a stunningly bright clarity and pervasively unique style. A joy to have read.

A great write embiggens the soul and my soul swells at the sight of these powerful words. You have trust built into your style and it is unfettered by thick headed education, rather it soars with the ambiguity of learned and lived wisdom.

You have achieved the unachievable with this work of wonder. This casts shadows on the face of the sun and pokes finger holes in the fibrous texture of night. You have caught the heels of impossible madness and shackled it to these stoic words. Great work!

The reviewer is immediately struck by the enormity of the subject matter encapsulated in such a distinctly tight package. Brevity is the soul of wit and wisdom and both cylinders are purring like a two stroke engine tuned to perfection. Thanks for posting!

A shimmering wave of light is more like it, because this thing just shines with glory and power. I can see that you adhere to the structures of great literature, but it is also evident that you have the wisdom and wherewithal to drift outside of their restrictive barriers when the work calls for it. Great write!

This has the essence of an epic at its center. It has the heart of imagination and the courage of steel eyed strength emblazoned across the words like something from a hero's dream. A resounding joy to read!

This sparkles with reality. It’s as if the reviewer were there inside the scenes you weave with a purposeful pen. You have talent to burn and it truly lights up the screen, another joyous work!
A breathtaking depiction that pulled me in from the outset and kept me entranced till the end. You had me with you all the way throughout and I thoroughly enjoyed the ride!

And there you have it.

I could go through this list all the way in about an hour and a half and when done I would have amassed copious amounts of wealth.

It was too easy. And the fans this made me? You wouldn’t believe. I was loved by most. Only during bouts of severe drunkenness would I actually lay it all down and let the real opinions through. But even that lost its luster.

I began doing nothing but hanging out in the forums, posting on the bulletin boards and being surly.

Then, just as I was coming up on my one year anniversary on a whim I pulled up a poem by someone whose name escapes me. He wrote a piece in cute little rhyme about a barfly who is drinking in a seedy establishment. He spots a pretty young girl at the bar and notices she is undaunted by the rough nature of the place so he buys her a drink and essentially asks her "what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?" to which she explains that since her father abandoned the family when she was just a small child she has been perpetually depressed. Lo and behold the drunk talking to her turns out to be her own sweet dad and there is a happy, joyous ending.

I snapped. This had to be the most unrealistic piece of sentimentality that I had read in some time. I explained in my review of the piece, which I think I gave 2 or 3 stars that in all actuality the "sweet daughter" at the bar would probably want to tear the bum’s head off. I stated that there were some real sociological issues that he could’ve explored rather than glossing over the whole thing with a very unreasonable fairytale ending.

His reply was simple "well, opinions are like assholes".

I let it go. I could’ve called on Tom but that wasn’t my thing. That was what the dilettantes did when they felt threatened.

I did however review another of his poems and this time was even less impressed with the work. He used the word door 4 times in the first verse even going so far as to rhyme the word door with the word door. I let him know this. In his notes he wrote that this poem was based on his experiences at a high end bar in Nashville. I’m from Nashville and questioned him about what bar he meant.

This time he went to Tom and again I received a warning. I want to share it with you verbatim.

Tom wrote:

This is a personal attack. You know that this is not the type of reviews that the site supports. Personal comments to individuals is not appropriate. A warning has been added to your account.

(below is the review to which he is referring)

You overuse the word door in the first verse. Even going so far as to rhyme door with, well, door, not quite a stretch there.Nothing really challenging about this one. Nothing fresh, no real insight, just the same old blameless tame verse.


Now that warning was written by someone who RUNS a literary site. "this is not the type of reviews" and "personal comments to individuals is not appropriate"

It became crystallized at that point. What was I doing in a place where the owner couldn’t even write a couple of proper sentences? I quit caring. I wrote Tom back and told him exactly how I felt about his site.

I went through my set reviews 4 times, racked up over 200 points, enough to insure that my next poem would be on the fanstory front page for a long time. Then I posted this just to see what would happen.

FANSTORY!!!!!!

Now let’s turn our hardest attention
to poems from the web’s extension.
Where dilettantes all grind for glory
and post their words upon fanstory.

Writers here are thoughtless and bored,
just waiting in line to be ignored.
With not a thought of being terse,
they reside in lines of vapid verse,

as they force bland words to rhyme
while feeding fanstory’s bottom line.
You don’t need talent or deepest wisdom
Just learn the rules of fanstory’s system.

Give mindless drivel rave reviews
inflate some egos and you can’t lose,
just don’t shake the bars of their cage,
that only elicits scorn and rage.

Here there really is not much hope
for those that press the envelope.
Don’t cross the line, don’t swim too deep
stay close to the shore with the other sheep.

Is this really a competition?
Exchanging money for false attention?
That’s the reason the chaff does stay
while all the wheat gets washed away.

All the crème is forced through the sieve
While garbage rises, thrives and lives.
It’s this magical place where physics are dropped
Shit rolls up hill then reigns at the top.

The meter was off and the thing was written to illicit blunt force trauma. In the first few hours after it was posted I received 15 six star reviews. That was a record for me. People where coming out in droves to show their support. I was applauded for exposing the site right there on the front page.

The next day I received two messages. The first was the automated "ALL TIME BEST" message. "Your poem has received great reviews and will be placed in the elite "ALL TIME BEST" area of the site. Less than 5 % of all poems here will reach this lofty height!" (Sound like poetry.com to you?)

The second was a personal message from Tom which said simply "Leave this site".

My poem was eradicated, wiped clean by the wrath of Tom and my account is still, to this day in a frozen status.

If you want to develop as a writer, steer clear of this wasteland!