Monday, July 17, 2006


A Rare Delight

Via Roy Edroso, I am pleased to announce the discovery of perhaps the Very Greatest Writer on All the Internets. This would be one "Maximos," a commenter on Tacitus's blog. Maximos's style is very much in the Tacitus idiom, only -- and this will amaze you -- much, much better. Here is a sample of his deft touch, his mastery of metaphor:
It is this shattering inability to reckon with reality that kindles in me a desire to simply turn away, to turn away so as not to witness the insalubrious spectacle of a society so etiolated as to manifest no righteous anger, but only either indifference or further rounds of self-inquisition. It is this spiritual torpor, this unconscious despondency of the national soul, in which, bewitched by the illusion that there is virtue in national self-abnegation, Britain imagines that she will manifest virtue by courting the favour of those who, if they only remain true to what they are, cannot but despise her and seek her violation, that moves me to indifference. Is there not a time to bid the fool enjoy his folly while it endures, for after that there will be judgment? - especially when the fool refuses to acknowledge the judgment? One may, perhaps, offer prayers for such an one; nothing else will be availing, except perhaps some unutterable extremity of horror.
If you got lost there in the subordinate clauses, I'm pretty sure what he's saying is that he wants a sandwich. Or else he's talking about organic gardening, or how he thought the third season of The Sopranos was a bit of a letdown. Whatever. Excellent stuff.

Best writer since Amanda McKittrick Ros, easily. As this Grande Dame of Letters put it so memorably in her classic novel Irene Iddesleigh:
The silvery touch of fortune is too often gilt with betrayal: the meddling mouth of extravagance swallows every desire, and eats the heart of honesty with pickled pride: the imposury of position is petty, and ends, as it should commence, with stirring strife.
To this, Maximus might perhaps reply:
I have longed to return, as well as to revisit many of the other nations of Western Europe; but, of late, the desire has ebbed. To behold the great cities and cathedrals of Europe, and to know that Europe has chosen one of two futures - perhaps both - the first A Brave New World, and the second, one characterized by the call of the muezzin, is to behold a land of which it may be said, “Ichabod!”, and to feel a palpable darkness that constricts the lungs and emtombs the spirit.
Indeed. Indeed.

Now we know what happened to those University of Denver students who studied English with J*ff G*ldst**n.
Anthony Lane once said about the guy who vomited up The Bridges of Madison County, "His brand of overwriting is a sure sign of an author who believes himself to be in command of the language but is in fact utterly at its mercy."

Isn't it normal to stop thinking around 9th grade that long sentences and big words are the hallmark of good writing?
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe...

Yeesh. And I had to look up only one of those words, but yeesh. Perhaps Maximos is pregnant, or in menopause? Some periods are missing. (Hm, the Maxi- prefix could reinforce the theory.)
Maximos? Isn't he the evil brother of Black Bolt?
Holy cow, I thought I had a prolixity problem...
You owe me 10 minutes of my life back.
That's a parody of Tacky, surely? With a nym like 'Maximos', I can't believe it's deliberately that turgid. Perhaps if he -- because it's obviously a male -- called himself 'Afflatus' we'd be certain.
I was going to suggest a Maximouse blog, but that's a lotta typing.
They lack the meter of a dith and the homoeroticism of a Toby, but they are poignantly lyrical.
There's a sentence in Les Miserables -- the book, not the musical -- that goes on for several pages. It describes Cosette's wedding night but never actually gives you any good stuff.
Oh shit that's amazing. From the topmost post on his blog, speaking about SOMEONE ELSE'S WRITING:

For those who are willing to brave the pitiless savageries of ennui in order to wade through the entire coma-inducing review, in which nothing of the argumentation, save the particular forms of several sneers, appears to be new, there will be much to say about its numerous inadequecies of argument, its deficiencies of judgment, its superficial philosophizing, its supercilious hauteur, and, to reiterate, the state of bored stupefaction that its more-of-the-same quality induces in the reader.
hmmmm....Well, I no longer have to feel bad about my over use of prepositional phrases. I am succinct in comparison.

oh my.
OMG. He used "insalubrious" and "etiolated" in the same *sentence*. No wonder Thers's usual insolence has given way to awed respect.

I bow.

(actually, it sounds a bit like the spam haikus I get sometimes...)
Maximos vexes me.

I'm terriby, terribly vexed.
Oh, almost forgot to add: He writes the worst English that I have ever encountered. It reminds me of a string of wet sponges; it reminds me of tattered washing on the line; it reminds me of stale bean soup, of college yells, of dogs barking idiotically through endless nights. It is so bad that a sort of grandeur creeps into it. It drags itself out of the dark abysm of pish, and crawls insanely up the topmost pinnacle of posh. It is rumble and bumble. It is flap and doodle. It is balder and dash.

I think Ann Coulter wrote that...
Maximos is dith!
Shorter Maximos:

'White bread doesn't hold up as well with Miracle Whip."
etiolated, yes, i admit i had to look that one up. glad i did too.

still, i always figure even if i don't know the words i should catch the drift with in the first few sentences.

i still don't know what this clown is about (tho that could be the whiskey). sumth'n about england bein' bad? the appeasment meme? i imagine i could check the link for context, but i must confess i feel disinclined.

hey, it's not like he was say'n shit with a biscuit in his mouf.
Hank Reardon: This guy's killing me. You still have Dagny's number?

John Galt: Huhwhat??? Sorry, I dozed off.. is he still talking?!? Damn, at least Dagny took a breath once in a while...
Hmmm, the link is not working. Maybe Tac doesn't like me? That would break my heart.
Sweet tapdancing Christ. I almost yawned and vomited at the same time.
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