Der Zuschauer

A Journal of Essays and Reportage on Drama, History, and Literature

Archive for July 2008

Grabbe, Here Again

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As you can see my head is not unduly large. It is not cretinous. Compare it to Gertrude Stein’s bushwacker visage. Remember Max Klinger rarely tells the truth. This Ekatrina Degot is some kind of fright-bag from Moldavia and I do often urinate in outside when inside does not conform to my pissquali needs. So you would were you me me you ghastly MLA circle-jerk concilitory, or committee level wanker.

PS. I never double-click on mouses. Do you?

Grabbe, Here.

Also, to one Herr A. C.,
This is a journal published and edited by a large number of hard working and thoughtful people: writers, scholars, and intellectuals. We have no idea about your wanting to, or not, wanting to publish in the the New Yorker. Getting one’s facts straight is a long term project one might call philosophy, historiography, history of ideas, or Red Stick Rub Down.
Regardless, we were not writing about you; we see no reason for conflict with you.
We would like to press upon you our best regards.
Max Klinger, Christian Grabbe et al.

Written by herrdramaturg

July 23, 2008 at 11:36 am

Getting Sand in It

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We are sitting here resting our bones on the dock of the bay, watching the tide role away. Obama is in Camel-Land; Putin and Skorskzy were last seen watching The Dark Knight in Queens; Wild Bill has been hiding out in bowling alleys; and we are suggesting the Nobel Prizes for Peace and Literature be retired, or at least given a last call of many decades. Otherwise Albert Gore might win it for the skinflick based on the opera/libretto, based on the documentary, and does anything make you feel more narcoti and stoned ou than World Climate Change? Image Mr. Rogers speaking truth to power about Climate Change. Indeed, consider Mr. Rogers speaking truth to power about anything. Also, we Guam Islander HerderSchlegelHegelLudwigTieck crowd have to ask is: Consider the memory of tan-lines to remain in the mind as opposed to tattooes. And then tell us hoot hoot hoot wrote the big book of love?

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July 22, 2008 at 2:05 pm

Dogs at the Beach

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Even from distant Guam we feel we must enter in on this discussion of the disgraceful New Yorker cover of 21 July 08. It may well be arch and funny in a Northeast Corridor sort of way (see our Intellectual Life of Cape Cod pages), but the result is poisonous, calumnious, stupid, and too fucking cute for words. Should you be taken in by that schwammerei about “the politics of fear,” and “the two serious articles about Obama,” read Rebecca Mead’s article about Galt Niederhoffer’s novel, The Romantics, in the same issue, or is it actually just a truly disgusting enthuse about Rich Bitches and their shoes. The above follows an inane piece of piss and drizzle about Harold Bloom and A-Rod. Which is to say, finally that there is more to social life and political philosophy than Seven-Sisters-Jane-Austen chicks sniffing their armpits before putting down the little red handbag. Are highly-educated Northeast Corridor people getting the drivel they need this summer? It appears so.
While we’re at it (rant, denounce, shift lumber, vituperate) why is Seymour Hersh not called out for the little gossip-monger tyro that he is? He is, in his own way, as big a wind-bag as Bloom.
Finally, remember that male-slug from Dartmouth who played at cowboysamshepardstud and “just really wanted to publish something in the New Yorker?” He was chewing tobacco and you we were eating curds and whey. But then, we digress…
And Now For a Further Seven Hundred Pages on Something by John Updike or Joyce Carol Oates On Whatever it is they Want to Drone on About .

The Editors, Der Zuschauer

Written by herrdramaturg

July 17, 2008 at 2:58 pm

The Troika of Old Men

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We have been thinking about drama, history, and literature. October. Independence Day. Bastille Day. What have you, Dear Readers, being thinking about? All honor to the heroes of intellectual labor.

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July 14, 2008 at 3:51 pm

What is the Mambo Spinoza

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Well, we were reading in the Cambridge History of Eighteenth Century Political Thought, and someone asked us slyly if we knew anything about Mambo Spinoza, and we said, “Well, yes, in fact we do.” And then Moldova Gattinova catily asked, “Polish or Czech Lands?’ And that led to a great row, and young bohemian types were working each over with stuffed monkey toys. And I kept trying to bring things around to these recent long-range missile firings in Haiphong Harbor in Norway by the Iranians, and no one seemed to be able to get a grip, you know, it was like grease on the pole to Mandelay.
Then time passed, which as you know can seem like many hours in America cyberhyperlinklinklink, and I said why don’t we all just have a cold one and ask the Goonies, and some of the Falklands Islands Throwback Baldies said well, what about the environment? And that was when all mental life fell silent on Guam Island–at least until we had managed to to fire up some wombat hot-doggies on the old grill and tossed back a few depth-charge-sized hefties from Fosters.
Now it was just at this moment that Miss Anthropy reminded us all we were supposed to beblahblahbha–well it was something about levelers. And then one really sharp cultural historian said, “What about listening to Sam, the Sham, and the Pharaohs, and then no one could agree about how to spell it. And then time passed

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July 10, 2008 at 2:37 pm

Posted in Inanities, Robust Assertions

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So Say We All On Guam Island

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July 3, 2008 at 11:40 am

Posted in Robust Assertions

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We Have Often Been at War

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Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation: conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war. . .testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated. . . can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war.

We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that the nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate. . .we cannot consecrate. . . we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. . .that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. . . that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. . . that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. . . and that government of the people. . .by the people. . .for the people. . . shall not perish from the earth.

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July 3, 2008 at 11:18 am