Twitterature (10 page)

Authors: Alexander Aciman

BOOK: Twitterature

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CanÊ¼t help believing IÊ¼ll never truly escape my roots. My fatherÊ¼s voice in my head. Reductio ad absurdum my fucking ass.

The image of other menÊ¼s dicks in my sister also plagues me. So many dicks in my dear, dear sister.

Did I set her straight when the young man who knocked her up beat me up? If I could restore her virginity by will alone. Oh. Time for class.

Told father that we had committed incest. He refuses to believe me. At least I tell a tale better than my idiot brother Benjy.

Madness comes anyway as my mind rambles through thoughts of all the dicks in my dear sister. Also my own terror and neurosis.

The eye. The terrible eye. To Maine I go to escape Cambridge, and the dicks. The dicks. I must protect the women!

I keep forgetting to go to class. Impossible to focus on geometry with my sisterÊ¼s innocence angling through my head.

I canÊ¼t express myself. IÊ¼m worse than Benjy in some ways. Perhaps thatÊ¼s irony. DonÊ¼t know. DidnÊ¼t go to class.

Mind fogged. Can think only about the tragedy of the Southern family. We are all mad in our own way. Where are those flat irons?

@Jas-Z

IÊ¼m surrounded by fools whose lives signify nothing. Dead father, suicidal brother, whore sister. My mother loves me and only me.

Time to get those Negroes working. It seems their family is on the rise, as ours moves ever closer to the grave.

@Dilsdo

Easter Sunday. Maybe finally find peace with these old crazy people. Taking Benjy with me to Church.

Oh God, this shit will never end. Crying and crying and the sound and the fury!

Everything has settled. WeÊ¼ll just go out for a nice Sunday ride in the carriage. Fuck. Took a wrong turn. Wailing and wailing. Epic fail.

The Story of My Life

by Helen Keller

The great tragedy of my life was when my dog jumped off a cliff because he had a ridiculous name.

Of this I was unaware, for I could not hear. The whole world sounded absurd, if you consider abysmal silence and eternal void absurd.

I constantly misbehaved, and disobeyed my parents. Little did they know I could not hear them. They mistook deafness for impertinence.

They wrote me notes. They yelled at me. They brought down right and proper discipline, but it was all a loss!

The truth dawned on them: I was both deaf and blind.

What a perfect storm of inconveniences. ItÊ¼s like a comedy of errors!

They punished me by rearranging the furniture, putting plungers in the toilet, and placing doorknobs on the walls.

I sustained a serious accident when I was ten, when I picked up the waffle iron. I burned my face even worse when they called back.

WHO IS THIS WOMAN WHO KEEPS PUTTING MY HANDS IN MY MOUTH. A PEDERAST? CAN SHE NOT HEAR ME SCREAM? I CANÊ¼T.

Of course I canÊ¼t drive: not because IÊ¼m deaf, or blind, but because IÊ¼m a woman.

People often confuse me with Anne Frank.

This led to the best Ê»Overcoming AdversityÊ¼ essay. The result: a blind, deaf, illiterate woman got into Harvard. And so did I.

I believe the admissions officer thought I was ethnically diverse. You know: black. Or a foreigner. And a woman.

WonÊ¼t someone please at least pity-fuck me? Sex with a blind and deaf chick must at least be a novelty.

Just donÊ¼t put your hands in my mouth. I donÊ¼t do that.

IÊ¼m a really good premise for a joke. I mean, IÊ¼m literally disabled in every single way. ItÊ¼s kind of cheap comedy.

I hope my physical disabilities wonÊ¼t overshadow my accomplishments.

All Quiet on the Western Front

by Erich Maria Remarque

@RemarquableTale

IÊ¼ve always heard, Ê»Paul. Listen to adults, and teachers.Ê¼ You too? Well, donÊ¼t. We could be in Hamburg cracking open a Holsten instead.

Basic training was pretty soul-crushing. Corporal Himmelstoss was a cruel martinet! Like the principal, but school sucked more.

LifeÊ¼s been pretty rough here. The days pass, people die. Soldiers donÊ¼t get workmanÊ¼s comp, either.

Oh, weÊ¼re just hanging out, waiting for bombs, snipers, gas. Hate the poison gas most. That stuff really stings.

Corporal Himmelstoss showed up. What a fruit. He wants to be our friend. Well fuck him, and his crazy German last name.

ItÊ¼s summer. They say weÊ¼re due a vacation . . . TO THE FRENCH FRONT! This is gonna be a trip to remember. WhereÊ¼s my camera?

WeÊ¼re just fighting, kickinÊ¼ ass, not even taking names. Eat my bayonet, clowns!

Summer vacation is over. Wow, a whole bunch of our comrades died, didnÊ¼t they? At least I have their pictures.

We are close to a town. We can finally get some poon-tank.

The men I fight with are my brothers. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. Oh, another one of my brothers got shot.

IÊ¼m on patrol, and I see this French soldier. I beat him up. Then I look at his body and see that heÊ¼s human, like me.
Quelle surprise!

I guess war is war.

The war is going poorly for us Deutsche-folk. Never thought weÊ¼d lose. At least this will be the war to end all wars.

I get to go home because of poison gas. I hope I donÊ¼t die before we see the end of this -

To Kill a Mockingbird

by Harper Lee

@BooScout

Thanks to Andrew Jackson, a series of commotions occurred resulting in my brotherÊ¼s arm being broken, dashing his hopes of gridiron glory.

More specifically, it all started when this wise-ass convinced us we should draw the town freak out of his basement.

Jem and Dill and I keep leaving him gifts, but he wonÊ¼t come out. But weÊ¼re so young and innocent.

My brother has to babysit a morphine addict. SheÊ¼s ninety. It seems sketchy to me, but Dad says we just have to do it.

Why does Dad say such LAME shit? I donÊ¼t want to walk a mile in ANYONE elseÊ¼s shoes. Toe jam, nail fungus, athleteÊ¼s foot anybody? Gosh.

Dad always preaches about the Ê»right thingÊ¼ and stuff. What does a heroic, moral single father/populist lawyer know about the right thing?

If I didnÊ¼t know better, IÊ¼d say he was fighting for the REDS. Dirty pinko bastard.

My dad has been appointed to defend Tom Robinson. More like Uncle Tom Robinson, if you ask me.

Tom accused of raping a woman, but IÊ¼m pretty sure they just got it on. CanÊ¼t a brother get some tush?

Went to the trial. Tom seems innocent. Also, it occurs that our town is full of racists. Perhaps only the eyes of a child can see the truth.

Is it weird that the youngest, least worldly-wise person in town comprehends reality most clearly? ItÊ¼s an insightful irony.

Dad totally embarrassed Boozer Bob. IÊ¼m sure this wonÊ¼t come back to bite us in some way. Also sure sun rises in the west.

A womanÊ¼s house burned down. It was pretty sad watching her entire life go up in smoke and flames, except that fire is so AWESOME.

All-white jury convicted Tom. That was surprising. I figured ten minutes of deliberation meant that the verdict was close.

Dad out all night at the jailhouse. I donÊ¼t really have a comment. HeÊ¼s a pretty cool guy. Good looking too, like Gregory Peck.

Please wear green in solidarity with Tom Robinson. HeÊ¼s totally, like, our Neda.

Uh oh. I think my innocence is gone. Also, Boozer Bob stalking us everywhere. ItÊ¼s getting kind of creepy.

On the way home. Hard to move fast in giant, silly costume. Is that Boozer Bob behind us again?

Long story short: Boozer Bob stalked us, tried to stab us, but Boo Radley FINALLY left the basement. Not sure what happened, but weÊ¼re OK.

Boo Radley makes men fall on their own swords. HeÊ¼s like Octavian Caesar, and Boozer Bob is like Cassius with a brewski and gout.

The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman

by Laurence Sterne

@ACockAndBallsStory

Most narratives open as the story begins. I shall start at the night of my conception. Ever think about your parents doing *it*?

IÊ¼m not born yet, but I should begin my tale because IÊ¼ve got a long way to go and I tend to get distracted. Brace yourselves.

Still not born yet, but my parents are looking for a midwife, and boy, this midwife, sheÊ¼s got a whole life story, wanna hear?

AUTHORÊ¼S PREFACE: Dear Sirs, you will find that my story is of great consequence, and a marvelous one indeed!

IÊ¼ve just been born, and I had a tragic accident. A windowpane fell on me, and flattened my dicâNOSE. My nose! That was almost embarrassing.

Chapter XIX: I donÊ¼t feel like tweeting today.

Penso che sia migliore di non scrivere in inglese.

What a marvelous thing ******** today it was so ******* and indeed.

Fantastic, no?? ArenÊ¼t you glad you can follow my story and everything I say so effortlessly?

Alas poor Yorick, he dies, alone, in a dark room, much like any without lights, crying, as any widower, whoÊ¼s lost his wife.

Today I visited a marvelous young woman, tender, graceful, as any girl might be, which is her nature, much as absurdity is mine.

Today I was running around my chamber, yelling, animals fighting and killing, bleeding, caca and noise everywhere.

It was like an extended real-time version of the aristocrats without the incest.

My mother just entered and shouted Ê»WTF Tristram, again? What is all this nonsense?Ê¼

@Mom: ItÊ¼s a cock, piss, and shit story, Ma, and the fuckinÊ¼ best of its kind, mother, the best of its motherfucking kind.

Tristram out, cya in the twentieth century, bitches.

Respectfully signed, ydnahS martsirT

Ulysses

by James Joyce

@StevieBlunder

Stately drunk Buck Mulligan came down the stairs singing about coronation day.

Milkman here. Good for those who donÊ¼t have milk, who know not of milk. Tastes like the first milk I ever had, motherÊ¼s sweet, warm milk.

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