Robert Kelly Orchard Park Golf Superintendent

Chapter 7 (last part)

; Andrea folded the paper and sat down.

Mark was staring at him. With fingers drummed on the table a tune. He looked back at Francis, who did not mind the whole thing. He decided to break the ice: "So Andrew, what does this threatening letter to a psychopath with our problem?". He returned to fix it.

"Then just do not understand," Andrea kept her head slightly tilted to one side, the look on the floor.

"There's a war in place. We're no longer talking about style or another. Here is a sharp-toothed monster that is emerging in all its squalor. "

"Ah," Frank nodded, "Here the only problem is the sales peak, the sabotage of a cultural industry at the outset. You're not taking too seriously a simple quarrel and a couple of letters from fans psychopaths? "

" No, "replied Andrea. "Luana was just the beginning. These people were in dire need of show. They were to emerge from the darkness of consumerism. What we want is action. What seeking and decision-making. We are living in our area. But this trend is general. "

"Boom! The end of the world, "said Francis.

"Francesco you pretend not to understand. Here is our future at stake. They want to be the power, the fulcrum, the centralization of culture. Become the only option. "

"But what the hell has this to do with the accusations of syntax, wrong views, recommendations, and other crap? "

" Luana, unbeknownst to him, is a Trojan horse. She has organized, gave the reasons, broadcast of ideas, has created a community. He gathered the energies of people who were bored to death. And someone else knows how to exploit them. "

"Andrea, you ..."

"Crazy?"

"I did not say, but ..." Francis tried to defend themselves.

Marco got up, took his whiskey glass and emptied it. "What do you propose to do? We could contradict them on their own ground, to improve our works, bring down their charges. "

"Useless, their castle is built on solid foundations. The only alternative is to defend our castle from the assault and start to prepare for the worst. "

Word Search Puzzles On Sympathy

Chapter 7 (Part II, 12:00)

" Dear writer of a major publishing house, I'm your admirer. You could define a very jealous person. You know, I admire the writers really good, but to you only feel a fierce envy. Because you are not good, capable, and nor have the talent.

let's face it all: you posted because you made some friends.

I know you're thinking that I can choose not to read.

So you're thinking I'm a fool.

I know you're thinking that's not my business

But here is where you're wrong, because throughout the whole thing is my deal.

you, you and your buddies, you have polluted the literature, and killed the dreams and hopes of aspirants like me who put their heads and study, and not as you say, the heart.

you, you and your buddies, you helped to create a system in which the publication is a sort of divine concession to his acolytes by bosses and barons.

you, you and your buddies, you are allowed beyond friendship and the law of the market there are no other selection criteria.

Thanks to you, the Cartesian coordinates of this system can only be paraculaggine values. Meritocracy, the quality can only be considered if it falls within the two criteria mentioned above.

Now, we know, you and I, who not only your writing, you and your buddies , is sloppy, boring, meaningless, silly, dog shit, but is also a writing that kills the thought, imagination. It's a style that tries to atrophy the brain and mind. To interrupt the work of the synapse. To create links between different areas of the mind.

you, you and your buddies, tell summarizing, generalizing, rivers of words which preclude the use of sight. You, you and your buddies, you know only conceptualize. But a concept that has no form is invisible and empty.

Now, we know, you and I, that the stakes do not play on the "show, do not tell," I'm not one of those idiots following a poor demented Mrs. Luana in her, let's call it, crusade. I'm not one of those idiots in search of relief.

I'm not one of those idiots looking for a community that gives meaning to my existence.

I am one of those to whom they were shown endless possibilities.

I am one of those who have been promised the keys to the future.

I am one of those who have been leading a life foretold.

Instead, today, after numerous attempts, I find myself living and passively yours, you and your friends both repulsive stories, your grudge and insolence.

Well, Mr. author of a major publishing house I found a solution to the problem.

I and my cronies (four very different from those poor fools who follow the Luana, whose only aspiration is to teach them to write) we found the final solution.

'll get the eyes, cutting off the hands, and will reduce the brain to a pulp. To you and your buddies.

So, for fun. A small reward for these years so terribly boring.

Sincerely, a fan of his.