What Are You, 12? Special Poetics Edition

Updated below, 8/8/07.

Kent Johnson's staging of his self-dramatization in response to yet another mess of which he is the origin: Johnson effectively spammed Lime Tree's comments, reverted to "please explain to me what I've done wrong," next trotted out his old stand-by "I was entering into the spirit of things," and then goes into full-throated cries of censorship, this last the final step every time he pulls this bullshit.

Kent justifying his sociopathology as theory at Blazevox, an otherwise interesting online journal and publisher. Example entry at Lime Tree here.

Watch the pivot point in the article when it goes from innocence and shock, and broadens into accusations of "censorship" against the "avant-garde." This is his shtick. This is why he was booted from the POETICS-L list multiple times.

Sometimes a cigar is a cigar and an asshole is an asshole, not a theorist.

UPDATE: From the That Certainly Went Well File—I wrote the above rant on the blog because it seemed a way to safely vent and not contribute to the brouhaha that usually surrounds these things. Only a few friends read the blog.

Checking this morning, I've had more traffic in the last twelve hours than I usually have on a really good week. Looks like the URL made it into some email folks are circulating as well as into the Flarf private list on Google. So much for low-key venting.

Tips on name changing and relocation appreciated.

UPDATE II (7/8/07, 3:03PM): More of Johnson's perfervid self-staging captured in the Google cache.

UPDATE III (8/8/07, 6:53PM): John Latta's silly comparison of the blog dust-up to Stalin (Kent Johnson's comments vs. 20 million dead—gosh, John, thank God we have you to be our moral compass). You'll have to scroll to find them. And some of his comments from Lime Tree, courtesy of Google cache, whose deletion he (foolishly) protests.

I was thinking about this, and the various posts on POETICS-L surrounding it, while listening to the two-part NPR report on life in the FEMA trailer parks in Mississippi. Now there's something that might, perhaps, be worth talking about as genocide.

Something real. Something genuinely evil.


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