Jim McPherson advises that in the early ’60s the Clancy Brothers put out a song called “McPherson’s Lament”. When Chopper (Ray Cooper), the bass and cello player for Oysterband, put out a solo record a few years ago he called much the same song: “McPherson’s Rant”.
Ergo, he’s just carrying on the family tradition with this sort of thing, which began with a correspondent asking him for comments on a business card he was working for none other than Captain C:
Jim McPherson writes:
I assume they go back-to-back in standard wallet size. Captain C colours good, background brown very earthy, not sure about the shining front of panties. Recall also men have bulges down there, especially stoners looking for a date.
The shield’s good. Will tap into Josh Whelan’s Agents of SHIELD, which is hyped to be the TV hit of the season. (Haven’t seen it yet but programmed PVR to copy.)
From a writer’s perspective, the text on backside needs either an ‘and’ or a gerund to read right. Unless, that is, my English is too Twentieth Century for today’s (lack of) readers (teens, twenty and thirty-somethings, what used to be Generation Pick-A-Letter but now seem to be called Millennials in MSM (mainstream media).
Ordinarily ‘godlike’ or ‘godly’ are preferred to God, especially when capitalized. Never forget they’re out there. Not the aliens, the Evangelicals. And they’d like nothing better than to bring the Apocalypse crashing down upon your pagan headstone.
Gerund = “using“; the ‘and‘ between date & is. A ‘whereupon’ instead of an ‘and’ would work except, um, you know, it’s got three syllables. (Always wanted to put a warning on my books: “Millennials beware: Contains words with more than two syllables.” Then again millennials has 4 syllables.)
Maybe *“Love-obsessed stoner finds alien marijuana; gains godlike powers only to be sucked into battle from hell. Yawn! But does he get a date?”*
“You must be able to explain your book and its main benefit in a single sentence.”
I think that’s nonsense but it is the prevailing wisdom — the elevator pitch preposterously pint-sized (‘reductio ad absurdum’). As near as I can make out no one has time to read, let alone buy a book, in the Twittering Twerp age, unless it’s the Twerking Twit age. Hell, they hardly ever buy CDs anymore.
Still, graphic novels are big – don’t need to read when you can look at pretty pictures – and movie makers love them if only because they’re self-contained storyboards.
The gods and goddesses, the demons and monsters, of ancient mythologies have been trivialized, their worship proscribed and the entities themselves mostly confined to another realm.
Jim McPherson’s PHANTACEA Mythos chronicles their ongoing striving for a return to paramountcy.