The Rascally Romance (in a single helluva-long letter about a flicking-short life) (Огольцов) - страница 2

Quotations are served on separate lines offset like this:

“ Shine! Shine on! You! Crazy Diamond!

Last but not least, watch out for the only picture someplace in the text validating that all this is not just another screenplay for one more animation blockbuster and stuff but just as is. If this is not the most ergonomic approach, I don’t know what else can be.

And, yes, my main concern throughout the work was providing adequate fabric to pull over so elegant framework. Stay assured, neither jerky sketches nor psycodelic splotches, nope! I/we/us were/are/and will be pulling for simple machines and leverage lucidity. I mean you don’t have to sharpen your comprehension’s edge by use of this or that dope for following twirly quirks, and fancy whimsicalities, and cerebral-tissue-busting niceties.

Though a first-person story, The Rascally Romance, nonetheless, is not a swaggering report on Me, Myself and The Number One. No, I’m not up for narcistic self-portraits. What? This mean and stupid rascal me? Alas, but not, ‘tis gone, ‘tis gone! So, pray, desist! It’s sooner, a cross-section of the whole generation. The unvarnished Night Watch of the period, if you like, from the most breathtaking, unequaled, and fascinating era since the Creation.

Now, full of bitter comprehension, I witness the glorious period packed, cinched, and sealed, tight and proper, 2 labels, crisscross—«stagnation»><«restructuring»—all ready get dumped into the bottomless bin of Past. Yet, neither smart labeling nor shifty package tricks would ever obscure the fact that the entire history of mankind owns no period to match the one when so naively young we were.


3. Style & Language & Age Restrictions

Sure enough, each and every generation inevitably enjoys or lives thru their own youth, yet some of them miss out to erect an epistolary pillar to mark the fact appropriately.

The erection at hand abides by the style of… mm… How will you name the critter? OK, let’s christen it Rabid Realism because this particular ball is ruled by Mrs. Naked Truth and no soft soap is handed out here to any written or tacit law.

The style is characterized by noble restraint in choice of means, limitlessly so. All’s kept radiantly simple, no need to enroll an online group for joint munching—a chunk a week—to get to juicy innuendos in gnarly concoction by the author along with sniffing out the pans in his pun-kitchen… Not in this case. Firstly, you should be dead to see such honor. Remember that German fellow? The one who unearthed Shakespeare and kicked off the successful ad campaign about his writing skills among his myopic compatriots? He came 200 years after the poor Will’s bones went asleep beneath their tombstone. Dig it? Can you read Shakespeare today? It’s when those eggheads step into picture to collect their flocks of mutts… But while you and I are still around I tried to make of the process of reading an old good DIY entertainment.