{
TeaTimeSunday / SONNETS
by BOKE
BUFFY-VERSE SERIES    (15) SONNET #34-37 of 154 (38)
INSPIRED-BY/CONCERNING:
BtVS EPISODE #8 (1.08)
"Me Robot, You Jane"

ONE-HAIKU (EPISODE) RECAP:
The one where Willow
gets an Internet boyfriend ...
(a "bookish" demon) [ewg]

 
[R.I.P. SEPT '02]

BUFFY VERSE for Friday's Tea Time (#19)
SONNETS 34-37 (BtVS#8 "Me Robot, You Jane")

ORIGINALLY POSTED AT (UPN) WWW.BUFFY.COM ... BEFORE ALL FORUMS WERE DELETED 9/19/02 ...
CLICK THE BRONZE SKULL TO SEE ARCHIVE COPY OF (NONCOLOR) VERSION (FOR COMPARISON)
SONNETS #34-37/154 for TEA TIME in L.A.
(REMINDER: 7-8PM BRONZE TIME)

Posted by: forensicpoetry - Apr 12, 2002, 8:20 AM

SONNETIZING BtVS EPISODE #8 "ME ROBOT, YOU JANE"

(BUFFY-VERSE SERIES) SONNETS #034-037 of 154
BOOK BAD, CHAT BAD, NEW BAD, MY BAD

rhetorical verse in Shakespearean sonnet form
(a 4-sonnet sequence)

 
(1) BOOK BAD }

{BVS_034_01.01} TO BIND AN EVIL POWER IN A BOOK

{BVS_034_01.02} with incantations laying down the rules

{BVS_034_01.03} by which that force be bound . . . with one strange HOOK

{BVS_034_01.04} that seemed designed by TV-writing fools.

 
{BVS_034_01.05} TO WIT: Its pages can't be read again

{BVS_034_01.06} without unleashing all the bad they bound.

{BVS_034_01.07} What fools enchanters be who code: that when

{BVS_034_01.08} communication flows, the world's unwound.

 
{BVS_034_01.09} Some claim there are some "clever" metaphors

{BVS_034_01.10} (a codicil of ev'ry Buffy script) --

{BVS_034_01.11} "insightful subtlety" that opens doors

{BVS_034_01.12} into the aching heart of youths (tight-lipped), . . .

 
{BVS_034_01.13} . . . to points of view on teenage worldly pain.

{BVS_034_01.14} You open up a book: All hell unchain?!?


{ (2) CHAT BAD [SARCASM / IRONY WARNING]}

{BVS_035_02.01} AND, HEAVEN KNOWS, THE INTERNET IS VILE.

{BVS_035_02.02} A predatory place where lies run free

{BVS_035_02.03} from all constraint, and virtue falls to guile.

{BVS_035_02.04} A place where there's no firm identity.

 
{BVS_035_02.05} And knowledge, love, and comfort seem one click

{BVS_035_02.06} away. Whenever you want to assess

{BVS_035_02.07} your choice desires (your tastes -- be hip, or hick).

{BVS_035_02.08} It's all available without the mess . . .

 
{BVS_035_02.09} . . . of gaining the agreement of your fate.

{BVS_035_02.10} Those surface qualities that leave their mark

{BVS_035_02.11} upon your countenance -- how do you rate

{BVS_035_02.12} within the coolness factors hierarch?

 
{BVS_035_02.13} Real life left Willow with a Xander hole.

{BVS_035_02.14} She sought online what she lacked in his poll.


{ (3) NEW BAD }

{BVS_036_03.01} MS. CALENDAR TELLS GILES that he's a "snob."

{BVS_036_03.02} whose vision's blocked by ancient piles of texts;

{BVS_036_03.03} who thinks that letting words fly free will rob

{BVS_036_03.04} them of all sanctity; that modern sects . . .

 
{BVS_036_03.05} . . . condemn themselves to chaos when lines float

{BVS_036_03.06} untethered from a solid hand-held form.

{BVS_036_03.07} Ms. Calendar tells Giles he's missed the boat:

{BVS_036_03.08} RIGHT HERE, "a new society" is born.

 
{BVS_036_03.09} The storyline does not reflect that hope.

{BVS_036_03.10} This Buffy episode required a face

{BVS_036_03.11} that could be slapped decisively. Like soap

{BVS_036_03.12} needs dirt, the Scooby gang needs to erase . . .

 
{BVS_036_03.13} . . . an EVIL packaged neatly in a box.

{BVS_036_03.14} BUT HERE, we smile: The Bronze that evil mocks.


{ (4) MY BAD }

{BVS_037_04.01} If OPTIMISM TRIUMPHS, THERE'S NO DARK:

{BVS_037_04.02} No place for Spike or Dru. No pointy stake.

{BVS_037_04.03} But still I feel this episode could park

{BVS_037_04.04} itself in Joss's waste can. Hold a wake . . .

 
{BVS_037_04.05} . . . for well-made turns of phrase, but let it go

{BVS_037_04.06} where heavy footed logic cools its heels . . .

{BVS_037_04.07} where clouded propaganda drops its snow . . .

{BVS_037_04.08} until THE END, when all the Seven Seals . . .

 
{BVS_037_04.09} . . . have ended all the dumb ideas of man.

{BVS_037_04.10} I'm on a roll now, please, just let me spin.

{BVS_037_04.11} I promise this will end within the span

{BVS_037_04.12} of this last sonnet, though I may not win . . .

 
{BVS_037_04.13} . . . you over to a single point I've made.

{BVS_037_04.14} In any case . . . four sonnets on parade. {smile}

{ # # #


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Copyright © 2002 Jim BOKE Tomlin artistofideas

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