TEA TIME in L.A.

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

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

BOOK BAD, CHAT 
                              BAD, NEW BAD, MY BAD
rhetorical 
                              verse in Shakespearean sonnet 
                              form

PART 1


(1) 
                              BOOK BAD

TO BIND AN EVIL POWER IN A 
                              BOOK

with incantations laying down the 
                              rules

by which that force be bound . . . 
                              with one strange hook

that seemed designed 
                              by TV-writing fools.


TO WIT: Its pages 
                              can't be read again

without unleashing all 
                              the bad they bound.

What fools enchanters 
                              be who code that when

communication flows, 
                              the world's unwound.


Some claim there 
                              are some "clever" metaphors

(a codicil of 
                              ev'ry Buffy script) --

insightful subtlety 
                              that opens doors

into the aching heart of 
                              youths (tight-lipped), . . .


. . . to 
                              points of view on teenage worldly 
                              pain.

You open up a book. All hell 
                              unchain?


(2) CHAT 
                              BAD SARCASM / IRONY 
                              WARNING

AND, HEAVEN KNOWS, 
                              THE INTERNET IS VILE.

A predatory place 
                              where lies run free

from all constraint, 
                              and virtue falls to guile.

A place where 
                              there's no firm identity.


And 
                              knowledge, love, and comfort seem one 
                              click

away. Whenever you want to 
                              access

your choice desires (your tastes -- 
                              be hip, or hick).

It's all available 
                              without the mess . . .


. . . of gaining 
                              the agreement of your fate.

Those surface 
                              qualities that leave their mark

upon your 
                              countenance -- how do you rate

within the 
                              coolness factors hierarch?


Real life 
                              left Willow with a Xander hole.

She 
                              sought online what she lacked in his poll. 
                              

[CONTINUED IN PART 2]

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