Vulse

The advantage of beauty is that even if one does not see the meaning in it, even if there is in fact no real meaning in it, one can still enjoy it for what it is -- a pleasure to the senses. Ugliness, on the other hand, does not have that advantage. Ugliness without purpose is pointless; staying is a chore that reaps no benefits.

"Vulse" is fairly repulsive. It feels like it ought to have some sort of underlying story or meaning, but the repulsiveness puts me off from investigating. If there were an obvious puzzle to solve, that might engage my curiosity, but there isn't. I don't know what I'm doing here. Even after I've encountered a body in the mill pond (wrapped in plastic, in shades of "Twin Peaks") I still have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing. It's just ... incoherent, and entrenched in a sense of ennui that looks very well in poetic works but is kind of annoying generally.

If the author is telling an actual story or making some sort of point, I must confess myself stumped. Perhaps the author is too clever for me; or perhaps the layers of obfuscation are so thick that the work cannot be appreciated without the author's explanation of it, in which case I should point out that if an author needs to stand beside his work to explain it, that work has failed. Alternatively ... there is the possibility that there is in fact no meaning behind the metaphor, in which case this is a troll entry, and I have nothing more to say.

Cold, leftover pizza and Tang.