There is still hope for mankind. The other day I stumbled upon something interesting for sale at Amazon.com. A jug of milk. Not just any milk, mind you, but Tuscan Milk. Don’t ask me how I found this item. But as I was looking at it, I suddenly noticed something strange: there were over 900 customer reviews. Now, that is unexpected. Half a dozen – yes. 900? No, that is just downright bizarre. So I start looking closer at these reviews, and this is when I start regaining hope. Here’s an example of a review:
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately dairy-house decree:
Where Alf, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man,
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
the sacred cows wandered and fed,
And there were gardens bright with soft young grass,
Where blossomed many a pound of fresh-churned butter;
And casein scents filled the air,
Engorging the nostrils of naughty milk-maids.A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian milk-maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Cottage Cheese.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ‘twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dairy in air,
That sunny dome! those cows of wonder!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Moo! Moooo!
Her flashing eyes, her swinging udder!
Weave a circle round her thrice,
And squeeze the teats with care,
For she on sweet grass hath fed,
And produced the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon,
128 fl oz, of Paradise.– Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1816
Holy mackerel – you call that a customer review? That’s a friggin poem. It’s art. Well, actually it’s satire. The original poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge written in 1797-98 is like this:
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail :
And ‘mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ‘twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Now that’s just funny, but there’s more. There’s a lot more. Here is another customer review by Pete “Dizzley”:
Oh silky substance!
Oh nature’s boon!
I long to feel your wholeness!
Your galactic touch,
Your soft white form,
And suckle in your milky-ness!Oh Tuscan fields!
Oh Elysian pastures!
I walk as Maximus before the arena,
Smell Roman earth
And Tiber’s water
For Tuscan Whole Milk I couldn’t be keener.My heart is pierced!
My soul bereft!
I asked dear Amazon to fill my needs.
Across the ocean
The goods were ferried -
But only got Tuscan Whole Cheese!
Now this poem is original. And clever. I love it. There are 900 more.
It seems to me like Amazon’s customer review feature is being used for something completely different from what the original intent was. It has turned into a sub-culture. It has become a social community. Totally unexpected.
Here’s another unexpected one: over at Live Journal, one of many on-line blog-hosts, there’s a user named Campfuckudie. Well, it’s not a user. It’s a bunch of people enacting a roleplaying game. They are making up a story by writing comments to blog entries. Here’s how CFUD describe themselves:
Welcome to campfuckudie, a crack multifandom RP (meaning Harry Potter, Edward Elric, and Nara Shikamaru are all welcome to attend) where zombies run amok and non-players are encouraged to participate through personal comments to the characters and NPCs. Here at the Camp, we strive to create an interactive fandom B-movie that borders on some damn well-constructed stupid.
And you look at this thing and start to realize that there are hundreds of people participating. And the question that gnaws at the back of your mind is “what is this thing??” They even have a Campfuckudie wiki.
After some research, you may (or may not) find out what CFUD is all about. Or the milk.
