The apartment was small, with slanting floors and irregular heat and a buzzer downstairs that didn't work, so that visitors had to call ahead from a pay phone at the corner gas station, where a black Doberman the size of a wolf paced through the night in vigilant patrol, its jaws clamped around an empty beer bottle.This sentence from Sarah Palin's book is appalling. It's so bad it would come first in a Bulwer Lytton writing contest. It's... What? It's brilliant. It's the greatest writing since Julius Caesar.
2 comments:
Just goes to prove Bill Ayers is a lousy writer.
That grand scholar was here in our little college town (Statesboro, GA) recently addressing a group of radicals, I mean a political science class. Unfortunately he came under the cover of darkness and it was only reported in the local fishwrapper the next day.
I would certainly have bought a copy of Dreams of My Hope and Soap on a Rope or whatever it's called just to get it autographed by the real author.
This is brilliant. Such a well laid trap.
Post a Comment