Date: Wednesday, April 2, 1997 3:39:04 PM
From: email@example.com (PROPER NAME)
Subj: Hello, Earl.
To: Earl Jackson, Jr.
I still haven’t received credit for Detective Fictions. Are you going to
pass me? If I don’t get those five credits, I’ll be one short for
graduation, so I’d greatly appreciate it…. Also, I was wondering if we
had a response for 190E due by tomorrow, or does that start next week?
PS: It’s [adjective] to see you [present participle of verb] again.[graphic convention, particularly frequent on email and the Internet to suggest happiness, friendly intention, usw., in lieu of voice or kinesic indications of same].
Date: Monday, April 7, 1997 10:39:07 AM
From: Earl Jackson, Jr.
Subj: Re: Hello, Earl.
Hi [PROPER NAME] – I passed you for detective fictions, [PROPER NAME]! I went over every single name with Julie back in December. I’ll email her right now.
The first response I ‚d love to have this weekend. Then I can collate, combobulate, webify and instigate. It’s [adjective] [copula infinitive] back too, thanks, earl
Date: Sunday, April 6, 1997 9:27:18 PM
From: firstname.lastname@example.org (PROPER NAME)
Subj: a _Response Paper_, and the one not written
To: Earl Jackson, Jr.
Here’s my first response paper.
I was originally going to write on how anesthesia and paralysis was an
attempt by the hysteric to make portions of her/his body dead; i was also
going to include how this is apparent in the art of body piercing and in
the cyborg (incorporation of the inanimate into the body). I _was_ going
to use Frau Emmy von N.s fear of inanimate things becoming animate (turning
into rats, etc.) to prove my point — along with her fear of being buried
alive, which I read (unlike Freud) as empathy for her husband, and fear of
his inanimate corpse coming back to life, only to find himself six feet
under, wrapped up tight in a coffin…. I _was_ going to state how this
fear of the dead coming alive and her desire to make the animate inanimate
is compensatory guilt and an antithetical symptom reflecting her guilt for
letting her husband die. (That last’s how it all fell apart; it just
doesn’t hold together.)
Anyway, in its stead I present this rather pedestrian piece.
Enjoy! PROPER NAME