So this is what I sent them... (btw, the journal is STYLUS)
Way to go, you primative screwheads. It's nice to see that you've dedicated yourself to the pursuit of mediocrity and garbage over pure genius. I'm sure you've got plenty of daring poetry in Stylus this year about flowers and relationships and all that challenging stuff that ugly, middle class, Dave Matthews Band-listening students have to offer. And here I thought to myself, "Hey, maybe Stylus is ready to think outside the box and actually print something daring, brilliant, revolutionary. Hey, maybe they're actually in the business of supporting true art!" And then I realized that Stylus is in the business of shitting on magnificence. Well, fine, Stylus, be that way, continue to be a landfill of half realized ideas and masturbatory fantasies of the sickening, middle ground student body of College Park, Maryland. Clearly you're not ready for something that is so brilliant that after you read, your feces will lament leaving the body of someone touched by true art. Yes, you can sit around with your shitheeled friends that you serve Mint Chiperoo to on your Spring Break job, wearing your Mickey-Mouse-on-one-side-Donald-Duck-on-the-other knee highs, talking about how you picked a solid collection of poems that will enter the brain of the reader and fall flat like Ted Kennedy after a night of binge drinking instead of penetrating the mind and soaring like a Phoenix of creativity. I hope you do, I really do. And then you can go home to your loser boyfriends and girlfriends and talk about how you made a difference in the literary world by publishing a series of works that I could replicate by eating Alpha Bits and crapping them out while reading the blank concrete, which would be more fulfilling than an issue of Stylus. I assume this would be followed by lame sex, because people who don't know good literature are SHITTY LAYS!
I hope you all have heart attacks while reading a fourth tier Stephen King novella. Either that, or you choke on the crow you will eat when I reinvent the literary world.
-Gabe
Way to go, you primative screwheads. It's nice to see that you've dedicated yourself to the pursuit of mediocrity and garbage over pure genius. I'm sure you've got plenty of daring poetry in Stylus this year about flowers and relationships and all that challenging stuff that ugly, middle class, Dave Matthews Band-listening students have to offer. And here I thought to myself, "Hey, maybe Stylus is ready to think outside the box and actually print something daring, brilliant, revolutionary. Hey, maybe they're actually in the business of supporting true art!" And then I realized that Stylus is in the business of shitting on magnificence. Well, fine, Stylus, be that way, continue to be a landfill of half realized ideas and masturbatory fantasies of the sickening, middle ground student body of College Park, Maryland. Clearly you're not ready for something that is so brilliant that after you read, your feces will lament leaving the body of someone touched by true art. Yes, you can sit around with your shitheeled friends that you serve Mint Chiperoo to on your Spring Break job, wearing your Mickey-Mouse-on-one-side-Donald-Duck-on-the-other knee highs, talking about how you picked a solid collection of poems that will enter the brain of the reader and fall flat like Ted Kennedy after a night of binge drinking instead of penetrating the mind and soaring like a Phoenix of creativity. I hope you do, I really do. And then you can go home to your loser boyfriends and girlfriends and talk about how you made a difference in the literary world by publishing a series of works that I could replicate by eating Alpha Bits and crapping them out while reading the blank concrete, which would be more fulfilling than an issue of Stylus. I assume this would be followed by lame sex, because people who don't know good literature are SHITTY LAYS!
I hope you all have heart attacks while reading a fourth tier Stephen King novella. Either that, or you choke on the crow you will eat when I reinvent the literary world.
-Gabe
