As it happened, I was sketching another post under this title when the most recent communication from Without arrived. (Without what? you ask. Read and decide.) Rather than post it in the previous thread, which is getting worn out, I reproduce it here:Can't Afford Arlington has left a new comment on your post "Je ne regrette rien":
Jane Barcroft is nothing more than a small but important part of the Arlington Elite's successful effort to gentrify Arlington, starting with attacking anti-gentrification activists and characterizing them as crazies and terrorists.
Here I felt that the year was yielding an awkward surplus of matter for a writer of potboilers, stretching from slapstick to subversive, but what we have here is a surplus of people who regard humble moi as an "important" part of a wicked conspiracy. Is it not delicious? Or… is it even a surplus? I resist temptation, resist it mightily I say, but the desire to quote myself grows more intense with every one of these truculent posts. Has life truly imitated art? I feel as if I have been here before, in a gossamer dream, or in Chapter Seven.
Will someone ever comment on my witty dialogue? Or on the naughty bits?
8 comments:
Agreed. Jane is part of the decade-long bipartisan effort to remove middle class and working class "undesireables" from Arlington.
*Ever* so much like Chapter Seven, only far less on target... and so much slower!
"Jane" is one of a bi-partisan group of upscale elitists who are anti-minority and anti-middle class to the point of being xenophobic. They are positively paranoid when it comes to affordable housing activists.
Minorities? Oh, Jose, confess it. You have a huge yet futile crush on Mercedes. It would seem a match made in heaven, for she is a fictional character like yourself, but alas, where gender is concerned, unless you are yourself in drag today, you are not her type.
Next time Gentrification Jane's bathroom sink is stopped up call her good upscle bud Gentrification Jay Fisette to unstop it. Unfortunately, I live too far from Arlington to respond to emergency plumbing calls.
Would that be "upscale" or "upsicle"? (The latter has no known meaning, but sounds delightfully naughty.)
I should be truly flattered to believe that someone too far from Arlington to answer an emergency call of any kind (what ever makes you think I would let you tinker with my plumbing?) had read my humble works. Truly, these persistent ravings about gentrification and conspiracy are so perversely inattentive to the tone of my little books that one is forced to the conclusion they share a common source. Sir, madam or intersex person, I am tempted to suggest that you start your own blog where you can converse with yourself. The Internet provides us with so many things for free.
Jane's books are a riot - where did 'she' learn to write 'dime novels'? The novels are an Arlington who's who of anyone who ever opposed the status quo. 'Jane' has to be employed in real estate or development.
This is positively more fun than the spinning teacup rides at the County Fair! If this were a game of "pin the profession on the author," darling, you would be all the way out in the kitchen by now.
Why ever can't someone comment on my clever plotting or witty portrayals? Could it be because none of these comments come from someone who has actually read my little amusements?
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