You never know what's going to pop up on Google desktop. Today, I saw a link to this story about personal ads in the London Review of Books. What kind of person, you might ask, chooses that publication to look for a romantic connection? People who post ads like these:
"67-year-old disaffiliated flâneur jacked up on Viagra on the lookout for contortionist who plays the trumpet."
and
"Baste me in butter and call me Slappy."
and
"61-year-old laryngologist and amateur taxidermist looking for a woman with whom to share, among other things, dancing and cardio-pulmonary resuscitation."
And my favorite bit:
"A woman in the current issue, for instance, specifies that she is looking for a man "who doesn't name his genitals after German chancellors" (not even, the ad says, "Prince Chlodwig zu Hohenlohe-Schillingfürst, however admirable the independence he gave to secretaries of state may have been.")"
That one got me thinking: the bizarre nature of these ads is a bit like German absurdism, only with ironic humor. Imagine these quotations coming not with a wry smile but with the creepy earnestness of this fellow. It totally works! So, is that all that separates the Brits from Germans? I know we'd all like to think that this man's career demonstrates the German sense of irony, but that might be wishful thinking.
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3 comments:
So Mr. "Walking Anachronism" give us a post explaining when exactly you think you should have lived, howzabout?
We're sorry modern life is so dissonant for ya!
Nick
It's a bit of an exaggeration, really, but it applies in a few ways. For example, I do have a bit of a Luddite streak, although on my good days I keep it well suppressed.
You, a cultural regressive? Well, baste me in butter and call me Slappy!
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