Greetings, Paul...

   Keeping my hand in; Ucchan will be pleased, if I know Ucchan. Inspired by
David Pascal's Allen Ginsberg pastiche "Howeru," and too little sleep.

Just like old Happosai; mention my name,
And I'm drawn to your post like a moth to a flame.
I figured I'd better respond
It's the price of being a well-known fish
     in what amounts to a relatively small pond.
But a restauranteur in my situation
Is scarcely familiar with the beat generation.
The mention of 'neon genesis' lights
Struck me as being especially bright.
But, I'm filled with remorse
For I don't know the source
So the poem really doesn't make much of a splash.
The problem, you see,
(If you're targeting me)
Is that I know almost nothing of Allen Ginsberg
     as opposed to the late Ogden Nash

   I normally don't like fan poetry, but "Howeru" sends chills up my spine, and
I really believe it's as much David Pascal's doing as the residual work of
Ginsberg. A better genuine tribute to anime fandom I've rarely read. At any
rate, it broke my writers block.

   Comments welcome.

   Let he who is intelligent deduce the Ginsberg poem this work takes as its
model.

Now, this is painful:
To not know it is to be
Unintelligent?

I'll read and react
You will, of course, forgive my 
Stream of consciousness
 

Paul Corrigan
corrig11@pilot.msu.edu

A Comic Shop in Michigan

for David Pascal

   What thoughts I have of you tonight, Hideaki Anno, for I walked down the
sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious musing on Sailor
Moon.
   In my fatigue, to shop for new images, I went into the neon genesis market,
dreaming of your animations!
   What posters and what pencilboards!  Ersatz families shopping at night!
Aisles full of otaku! Fanboys in the anime, fangirls in the manga--meanwhile,
Kunihiko Ikuhara, what were you doing over the road in the rosebushes?

Like I said, I don't know Ginsberg - this almost sounds like Whitman.
::standing on a desk::  Otaku, my taku!

   I saw you, Hideaki Anno, friendless, lonely old fanboy, poking through the
titles in the new releases

I have measured out my life in empty Yebisu cans...

and eyeing the yaoi fangirls.

The fangirls, going to and fro, 
Talking of Hideaki Anno

   I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed Kaji? What price rentals?
Are you my Angel?
   I wandered in and out of the brilliant aisles of fans following you, and
followed in my imagination by a NERV operative.
   We strode around the open shelves together in our solitary fancy browsing
magazines, possessing every garage model kit, and never passing the cashier.

   Where are you going, Hideaki Anno? The doors close in a hour. What course
does Exelion chart tonight?
   (I touch my Eva manga and dream of our odyssey in the comic shop and
face the Hedgehog's Dilemma.)
   Will we watch all night in solitary rooms?  The screen adds shade to shade,
lights out in apartments, we'll both be lonely.
   Will we stroll dreaming of the lost Japan of childhood past Honda Accords in
driveways, home to our silent prison?
   Ah, dear brother, elder, lonely old dream-teacher, what Second Impact did
you have when Minmei quit singing her song and you washed up on a lifeless
strand and stood watching the siren disappear on the red waters of Tartarus?

They tell me you are incomprehensible, and I believe them, for I have seen your Childen by the pools of LCL, and not understood why.
And they tell me you are a primadonna, and I answer: Yes, it is true, I have seen you walk out on a series only to return to direct the last few episodes.
And they tell me you are a wastrel, and I point out that you cut your teeth at a studio that could never finish a hit series without running out of funds.
And they tell me you are wild, and my reply is: No matter how many times you smack him with a guitar, it never even stuns him.
And having answered so, I turn once more to those that sneer at you, Hideaki Anno, and I give back the sneer and say to them:
Come and show me another anime director so able to be counted among auteur and otaku alike.
Fierce as a berserker Eva, jaws slavering for Angel flesh, cunning as a salaryman sweet-talking his office-lady girlfriend
    Bearded,
    Unkempt,
    Unfettered,
    Planning,
    Creating, abandoning, re-creating
Laughing the stormy, scary, half-mad laughter of Genius, proud to be Mecha Builder, Thought-Provoker, Supplier of Bounce and NERV Center of the entire Otakingdom.

Itsu mo,
Ucchan  ^_^

hey boss
you remember
what i told you
about mehitabel
and toujour gai
well that old cat
hasnt got anything
on this kaworu kid
archy


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