by Joe Buonfiglio
I recently received some unsolicited feedback about Potpourri of the Damned. Some of my regular Patrons d’ Absurdity were bitchin’ about the fact that this little blog of mine isn’t so … well … little. They were mostly positive in noting that they felt my shit is funny or at least interesting within its vulgar weirdness, but that the posts tend to be way too long for a blog; they read more like short stories than a simple blog post.
Awwwww. Do my meanderings into the realm of cerebral flatulence tax your poor little attention spans and make your “brains hurt” in the Gumby-esque sense of the phrase pilfered from the world of Monty Python?
Does the quantity matter if you feel the quality is there, or do you opt for the CliffsNotes version whenever it’s available?
Doesn’t content count? Would you say the Bible is too long? That the plays of William Shakespeare are too long? The works of Tolstoy?
Okay, those are dreadful examples. ALL of those are way too long to the point of mind-numbing tedium.
The Bible? It takes forever — FOR. EV. VER. — to get to the Resurrection. There’s a lot of creating, deciding if it’s any good, and then naming shit, bagging Egypt, grabbing some rules-of-the-road tablets, giving Santa a reason to do his thing, walking around the wilderness chattin’ up that one guy in your crew that always tries to get you to do the bad stuff, a little wine and bread action, something about a pilot washing his hands before taking off and— Look, I’m really not trying to be blasphemous here, but talk about burying the lead.
The Bard? Well, Big Will, if you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you bore us to tears, do we not slit our own wrists to put an end to the bad jokes and melodramatic overreach?
Then there is Count Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy…. Leo, baby, give it a rest. Next time do War OR Peace, but not both. You may be regarded as one of the greatest novelists of all time, but what’s with all the words. It’s no wonder Anna Karenina threw herself under that train.
Even with these poor examples, however, you get my drift; there is often purpose and good reason behind what may seem idiotic and inane on the surface when it comes to the length of a literary work.
First of all, I’d like to point out that unlike other blogs, mine is weekly, not daily (or hourly in the case of some of the more needy or OCD-driven bloggers), so I hope that affords me some leeway in the word-count department. Besides, being weekly, I want to make sure that you get your money’s worth … not that you cheap bastards aren’t getting all this quality humor for free, mind you.
So if you want short, I suggest you pick up a Little Golden Book. Might I recommend The Little Red Hen or The Shy Little Kitten. Perhaps they would be more to your liking. (Now, I have to admit that The Little Red Caboose is a real page-turner. That’s some quality shit right there.) That should satisfy the soundbite-length-only needs of your self-induced Attention Deficit Disorder. Or better yet, check out my “140 characters or less” entries on my Twitter page at https://twitter.com/JoeBuonfiglio (@JoeBuonfiglio). You want your humor in exceedingly short bursts? I’m virtually the Henny Youngman of Absurdist humor on the old tweet-machine. It’s as if I—
Son of a bitch. I am SO sorry. I did it again. This blog post is getting too fucking long, isn’t it?
Okay, I can see I’m losing you. No. Wait. Please don’t go. Let me just leave you with this tidbit of wisdom from the bowels of the literati. If you want to expand your mind — even in the puerile world of dark, ribald humor — you will need to adopt and nurture within yourself the patience and the perseverance to—
Uh, hello? Are you still there?
Dammit. I had to go with War and Peace again, didn’t I?
© 2015 Joseph P. Buonfiglio All Rights Reserved.