William Logan is at it again. This time, a review of Frank O’Hara. The funniest line in the whole review:

The selection is not perfect; Ford has included a grindingly self-conscious play as well as two long poems almost unreadable now, full of campy nonsense like “whoops-musicale (sei tu m’ami) ahhahahahaha / loppy di looploop” and “le bateleur! how wonderful / I’m so so so so so so so so so so happy,” which sounds like Ezra Pound on happy pills.

Hilarious! I guffawed so loudly I broke my dentures (which I don’t have yet) on the sound waves.

One thing about Logan, even when you find yourself disagreeing with his analysis you have to admire his wordsmithing. He really knows how to put together a good insult. And this time it’s well deserving. Frank O’Hara has got to be one of the most overrated poets of the 20th century.

And the blogosphere is so full of self-pity it can’t take a joke.

Happy Independence Day (to my American readers)! For me, tomorrow will be happier as I’ll be able to get on with everyday living.