Poem: "Slashing Through the Undergrowth"
So meeksp wanted to throw together folk heroes from different cultures, idhren24 wanted something related to Dreamwidth, and aldersprig wondered where old folktales go to be reborn. I got to thinking about deconstructing folklore and how it all comes down to archetypes anyhow ... which can get into some real hijinks in the collective unconscious. So the more you know about folk tales, history, literature, slash, cyberspace, obscure psychology, and the fine art of interpretation ... the funnier this will be. This is the second freebie today, thanks to new prompter idhren24.
Slashing Through the Undergrowth
In the old days, the forest primeval
was the place of chaos, of fear,
the wilderness where monsters lived.
It was the collective unconscious
from which dreams came
and into which fools ventured
to become heroes.
Today the forests are mostly tamed,
trimmed down to demure parks
or clearcut altogether.
Now cyberspace is the modern wilderness
full of meaningful shadows
and sudden flashes of insight.
This is where the archetypes go to respawn
after the deconstructionists have pinned them down
to the dissecting table of scholarship.
This is where our heroes break the bonds
placed on them by copyright laws and corporations.
This is where the folk heroes go
when they think nobody's looking,
slipping out of books and movies,
sneaking away from campfires and classrooms.
Here are Batman and Superman
feeling each other up in an alley.
Here is Paul Bunyan
watching a kitsune's tail, tail, tail, tail, tail.
Here are John Brown and Joseph Cinqué
bending nails to put under Master's bed.
Here are Buffy and Willow
thinking that Boudica babe looks hot
and could probably handle her share of vamps.
Here is Harry kissing Judas, because hey,
someone should kiss him back.
Here is Der fliegende Holländer and her crew
sailing beyond the seven seas,
singing of a pirate's life and pleasurable company
and "Why is all the RUM gone?"
And it may not be canon
but there are cannons galore!
You can find them on Dreamwidth,
smoking weed and shagging in the closets.
They're spending their three weeks
on the hood of a police car (twice!)
or on Baker Street just holding hands.
Behind every quaking bush or rattling dustbin,
something interesting is going on.
You can find them on LiveJournal,
bragging their expertise:
"My fandom blows shit up!"
"My fandom has compromising positions."
"My fandom encourages crossdressing."
"My fandom practices hokey religions."
"My fandom is into boy-boy love."
until finally
"My fandom is more obscure than yours!"
disappears into the woodwork.
You can find them between the bits and bytes
stabbing zeroes with ones,
fending off The Snails That Ate It,
and proclaiming "There is no spoon!"
This is where the archetypes go,
so this is where the muses go too
at two in the morning
with cups of coffee and tea and cocoa
and notebooks stuffed in their butt pockets,
their hot little hands steaming up the binoculars.
So all the plots have been done before, so what?
So all the characters already exist, so what?
Put the pieces together in a different order,
dress them in fresh costumes,
and tell them what their fandom is all about.
Set your boot in their rear
and shove them into the center of a new stage.
You never know what you'll find
slashing through the undergrowth.
You only know that it's part of humanity's
grand gift to itself and the ages --
that some of it will be fluff and crack
while some will be the Next Great Thing.
Yeah, let's see the academics
try to analyze that
with a straight face.