Porphyria's Lover - Vastly Misunderstood Poetry, submitted by Dave.
When I was looking on a few poetry sites for the full text of the poems that I used in this article, I began to notice a pattern: there was always a guy named J.T. Best lingering in the comment sections, loudly attempting to dazzle the public with his semi-cockamamie theory on the interpretation of Robert Browning's famous poem, Porphyria's Lover.
Although his interpretation is not entirely idiotic, check out his "Comments and Criticisms" sections for the real fireworks; the man's ego explodes like a roman candle at the slightest provocation, making him look like the biggest crybaby ninny in the universe.
I find it absolutely incredible that Porphyria's Lover is universally regarded as a madman and sexual deviant. I have read everything I can get my eyes on and there is no logic whatsoever to the madman argument. I spent my entire life in a courtroom litigating cases and I can assure you that if I were to try the issue of euthanasia verses madman sexual deviant to a jury of literary peers that were not contaminated by existing precedent, euthanasia would win every time. The madman argument involves huge inconsistencies but if you accept the euthanasia postulate then the poem makes perfect sense from beginning to end. In this case it has taken the mind of a seasoned trial lawyer who refuses to have absurdity crammed down his throat to sort out the issue of Porphyria's death.
And how is our hero, Mr. J.T. Best, able to take on the literary establishment singlehanded? Well, he has two important qualifications:
A) He used to be a lawyer.
B) Everyone else but him is wrong, and an idiot.
If you enjoy a clueless, cranky man browbeating gentle poetry-readers into bending to his intellecual will, with very, very little success, then this page is for you!
Republicans announce that all legislation must be voted on at 2am in a secret chamber, with no one but the lobbyists who write the bills seeing a single line of text. Democrats' Response: Stumbling around a field stepping on rakes, handles smashing them directly in their faces every single time.
There is a witch hunt going on right now and I promise you that you will not find any witches in the pleasure room in my congressional office.
For fans of meaningless awards, these awards are extra meaningless.
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