You Know You Have Arrived When The Prime Minister of Great Britain Is Spamming You, Using a .cn Email!!!


Received in my spam box:


Our ref: ATM/13470/IDR

Your ref:...Date: 24/04/2010


I am The Rt Hon Gordon Brown MP, Prime Minister British Government. This letter is to officially inform you that (ATM Card Number XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX) has been accredited with your favor. Your Personal Identification Number is XXX. The VISA Card Value is £2,000,000.00 (Two Million, Great British Pounds Sterling).

This office will send to you an Visa/ATM CARD that you will use to withdraw your funds in any ATM MACHINE CENTER or Visa card outlet in the world with a maximum of £5000 GBP daily. Further more, You will be required to re-confirm the following information to enable; The Rt Hon David Miliband MP Secretary of State for British Foreign and Commonwealth Office. begin in processing of your VISA CARD.

(1)Full names: (2)Address: (3)Country: (4)Nationality: (5)Phone #: (6)Age: (7)Occupation: (8) Post Codes

Rt Hon David Miliband MP.
Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs

TAKE NOTICE: That you are warned to stop further communications with any other person(s) or office(s) different from the staff of the State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs to avoid hitches in receiving your payment.


The Rt Hon Gordon Brown MP
Prime Minister
Yes, Rt Hon Gordon Brown, I'll get right on that.

How's China these days?


What to Do With That Pesky MODERATED Spam That Just Keeps On Pouring in on This Poor Beleaguered Blog?


Play with it, like a cat toys with a mouse. Squash it. Pervert it.

Give it space, so...
Depending on what your destination is and how long you plan on making your trip for, the airfare may be the priciest expense. Did you know that Orion air now charges you to take a dump? No? Get used to it, kiddies. That’s the future. Because of this, finding a great deal on the airfare becomes extremely important. Maybe it’s time for the Great European Poop-in. Wear a diaper, fill it in flight, and then leave it under the seat. The more money you are able to save on the plane tickets, the more money you will be able to use toward Pampers and maybe even your actual vacation.

When it comes to purchasing your airline tickets, the sooner the better. You might as well throw your money down a rat hole. This goes for basically anywhere you plan on traveling. When you purchase a ticket sooner, lets say several months before the trip, the airline will still probably screw you over, so there will be less of a demand, which will drive the price of the ticket down because no one wants to fly in a bucket of bolts where you can’t heed the call of nature without forking over a Euro. However, on the flip side, as the day of the desired flight approaches, the flight's seats will begin to fill up--literally. But the smell will be so bad that more and many seats will become more inhospitable, and the higher the demand for TP and air freshener will be, which will drive the price up for potty time. Booking the flight in as far advance as you can may save you hundreds of dollars in the long run, blah, blah, blah, blah, but you’d better save $$$ for that highly competitive dash for the inflight Toi Toi.

Flying during the middle of the week is generally the cheapest time to fly, but avoid the Disney Screaming Brat Special. Fewer humans travel during mid week than on Friday through Sunday, but be careful: you may be assigned a seat next to a smelly pooch with continence issues. If at all possible, fly out on a Tuesday or Wednesday. You may have to settle for slap-dash plane maintenance, but that’s a small price to pay—you may actually find prices significantly less expensive on the Wednesday than the Sunday of the same week, but, evidently, flying on Saturdays has become downright dangerous, especially on Russian jets...

Looking for airfare online will probably be your best be [hit and run spammer can’t spell] at securing the cheapest possible flight price. There are multiple booking agencies which specialize in finding the cheapest airfare. However, to save time, go to [I’m not telling], which offers a comprehensive flight search option. [I’m not telling] will search other travel sites (yadda, yadda, yadda, yadda, and yadda, etc.) and display the cheapest flight form (form? As in “Flight Formation”?) each site. From here [which you will never know] you will be able to decide which website offers the best deal. In your dreams

Students can often find discounted airfare by visiting [I thought that site went bankrupt and was up for auction. Who knew?]. This is the I’m-Not-Going-To-Let-you-Advertise-On-My-Blog-Association, and it will never allow you to find less expensive airfare for the traveling student, who is probably drunk on Mr Jekyll Absinthe, anyway. This isn't always the case, but it doesn't hurt to take a huge gulp.

So close, yet so far...



We strongly encourage all of you would-be “poets” without a long and distinguished history of publication in the finest of Pobiz’s literary journals (i.e., the unblurbables) NOT TO SUBMIT YOUR TRASHY, ILLITERATE SCRIBBLINGS TO US!!!!!!!!!!! Submissions by such nobodies WILL NOT BE READ, EVER!!!! UNDERSTAND BOZOS?

Now that that’s out of the way, the best answer we can give writers who would like to know before submitting to us whether our journal is the right venue for their work is to purchase (at the full retail price) then read, read, and read as many of our back issues as you can possibly afford to purchase, in order to get an idea of what we’re looking for. Yes, we already know exactly what that is, as reflected by what we have already published again and again and again, and you won’t change our minds or tastes. Furthermore, the hordes of you purchasing and reading many, many back issues in the hopes of someday being somebody in PoBiz (yeah right!) keeps the lights on up in this bitch.

That being said, WE GET FAR MORE POETRY IN ONE HOUR THAN WE COULD EVER READ IN A TRILLION YEARS. On top of that, we abhor reading contemporary poetry (DAH! That’s why we charge such a high submission fee for our quarterly poetry contests.). I mean, who the fuck reads poetry in the age of the iPhone? Still, we might just deign to read your submission, as long as you can provide us with proof of purchase of at least fifteen of our back issues and pay us a modest per-line reading fee.


Please be aware that we neither have the time nor the inclination to give you constructive feedback on your work or to engage in any sort of editorial work that would result in the publishing of your “not-ready-for-prime-time” submissions. While editors and publishers of other genres (namely the novel) do this sort of thing, novels sell, whereas books and journals of poetry do not. Hence, there would be no return on our investment to make it worth our while to help you. Yes, you may technically consider us “editors,” but what we mean by that moniker is that we are always more than happy to publish the already finished and finely polished work of high muck-a-mucks in PoBiz, like everything ever written or that ever will be written by the illustrious Heather McHugh and the incomparable Henri Cole. Those people are SOMEBODIES, whereas most of you are not.


On a final note, to you fucking byotches who insist on mixing prose and poetry in the same envelope, YOUR SUBMISSIONS WILL BE SUMMARILY USED AS TOILET PAPER BY OUR STAFF AND EDITORIAL BOARD!!!!!!!



Two websites stood in my view: and
Good poetry websites are few,
But one thing I knew:
I wasn't going to be a moderator's pet. looked cute
With its modern poetry quotes,
But I chose the other route—
For was more astute,
And poets at each others' throats. was unctuous and dull
And high on pretence,
While was affable
While seeing through po-biz bull—
And that made all the difference.


Expense Account *


Oct. 1-------Ad for female secretary-----------------$20.00

Oct. 4-------Violets for new secretary------------------ 8.50

Oct. 6-------Week's salary for new secretary---------350.00

Oct. 9-------Roses for secretary------------------------25.00

Oct. 10-------Candy for wife-----------------------------8.95

Oct. 13-------Lunch for secretary-----------------------25.00

Oct. 15-------Week's salary for secretary---------------500.00

Oct. 16-------Movie tickets for wife and self--------------17.00

Oct. 18-------Theater tickets for secretary and self------200.00

Oct. 19-------Ice cream sundae for wife---------------------4.95

Oct. 22-------Mary's salary-------------------------------900.00

Oct. 23-------Champagne and dinner for Mary & self------150.00

Oct. 25-------Doctor for stupid secretary-----------------3500.00

Oct. 26-------Mink stole for wife--------------------------7200.00

Oct. 28-------Ad for male secretary--------------------------25.00

Total expenses for month 12,934.40


Instructions: Read and discuss the above text, in terms of its historical, social, feminist, cultural, Marxist, and formalist contexts.


*Based upon material that originally appeared in: Ralph W. Rader, "Fact, Theory, and Literary Explanation," Critical Inquiry, 1 (December, 1974), 251. Tweaked by Jerry Siegel.

What Has Happened?--Bertolt Brecht

(Bertolt Brecht, pretending to play the clarinet with the cabaret-clown Karl Valentin [playing the tuba] and Valentin's performing partner, Liesl Karlstadt [in drag as the conductor] in a comic spoof of the Munich Octoberfest, the "Schaubude" or sideshow booth, entitled Oktoberfestschaubude [ca 1920-1921]. The photo shows the satirical banners for various circus-like attractions, all intended as a spoof of the popular annual Octoberfest in southern Germany--Wikipedia)

“Scholars show their discoveries and hide their decorations.”

(Close-up of Bertolt Brecht “playing” the clarinet.)


Land of The Living Dead: The Great Vanity Publishing Network & Cover-up

(Note: This anonymous post also appears on and was the impetus for this snarky, brainchild blog. Thank you, Mr/Ms Anonymous, whoever you are! You are BRILLIANT!)

Christopher [Woodman] is like a character in a John Grisham thriller. The law firm of American Poetry, Inc. is a great Vanity Publishing Network and the cover-up is more horrible than the crime.

If not John Grisham, then the Invasion of the Body Snatchers, or Dracula, or a terrifying scenario more horrific, where poets are zombies who feed off innocent flesh: the minds, hearts, souls and money of ‘paying poetry customers,’ the would-be poet and hasty poetry reader who has scanned a few contemporary poems and said to themselves “I can do that.”

The living dead of Poetry, Inc. are no longer concerned with Poetry and its readers, Poetry and its history, for all “readers” are now would-be poets willing to pay for the privilege of being ‘poets’ in a shadowy realm of ‘contemporary anthology’ pretense, manufactured by the lawyers of Poetry, Inc. You sign on the dotted line at the nearest MFA recruitment center and agree to participate in the game: you agree to never ask why it is always night, why some things are just ‘not discussed,’ why the poets wear blank looks and carry black appointment books and blithely abet the pyramid scheme of money-laundering for the secret muse.

Woodman met a ‘respected’ official of the poetry world, a gentleman calling himself ‘editor’ and ‘poet,’ warm his voice, with unctuous flattery, but once, when Woodman looked away, this smiling editor, with teeth shining like ice, suddenly lurched towards Mr. Woodman’s neck. Woodman looked up in horror. Was it a dream? The ‘editor’ drifted back into the night, complaining he was busy, and had so many clients who needed his expertise. Woodman followed, and met up with a woman who hissed at him like a snake, warning him to leave the gentleman ‘poet’ alone. Woodman went to Policemen and Writers, to the Academy of Poets, Toads, and Spiders, seeking help. Every policeman and toad he encountered had the same blank look and—could it be?—he heard the hissing sound of that woman in a nearby room…

Madness, I tell you! Madness! The record of Woodman’s complaint! Gone! It was all a dream! Come away, Christopher, come away! In the shadows, here, down by the earthen lake, your fate awaits you, the raven flies and beneath the hidden moon, she is waiting, the proper one, with the ghost-white guidelines in her slender hands…the icy caress of the secretary muse…of Police & Writers...Poets.Ogre...

Poetry, Inc.!