A response to my craziness

This is from one of the other members of the GLAWS group. I think he's got it!




imagine a dog lapping water is the best description of a paragraph, huh?  you must be considered harmless to yourself and others.  it's great they allow you such privileges as joining a writer's group.   asylums are really becoming innovative these days. 

however, i'll ignore your status and take up your manifesto.  a dog laps water - (topic}.  the dog is a big skinny mongrel with a mud-encrusted mangey coat of red fur.  he lowers his snout toward the lit-tle tricklet of water in the gutter in the street.  he sniffs its contents and finds its an acceptable sour-ce of hydration, even though its not terribly hygienic.  but he can't be discriminatory about it - he's thirsty and he's searched for water for over an hour now.  he starts sticking his tongue out into the water. he cradles each gulp in his tongue's temporary folded bowl.  the lapping increases in rapid rhythms as he fills his stomach.  - (exposition).  suddenly the dog looks up from the tricklet of water and notices an immaculately groomed snow-white poodle with a jewel-encrusted collar being led on a leash by its owner, an overdressed, overjeweled fat dowager.  the woman pauses on the sidewalk to offer some evian water she has in her purse to her pet and pours it into a plastic cup and lowers it to the sidewalk in front of the animal's snout.  the poodle sniffs the cup and then refuses the refresh-ment.  the dog and woman leave the cup of water on the sidewalk. - (antithesis).  the mongrel, his eyes having recorded the scene, leaps up from the gutter onto the sidewalk and rushes to the cup of water.  he laps up the clean water to his heart's content. - (conclusion).

is this what you mean, dan?  is my paragraph a more perfect paragraph than joyce's?  anyway,
thanks for the privilege of entering your . . . uh . . . world.  it's a lot more rarefied than mine.  talk about a thirsty dog - my consumption of literary classics is like the mongrel's lapping the tricklet of water.  i too am parched.  i too want to quench my craving for literary sustenance.  i'm going to de-mand more time for myself for reading.  i've never touched rabelais.  that's gonna change.

     - lionel rivers malone