Make haiku thing use blockquote, not pre
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@ -26,8 +26,6 @@ body>h1:first-child, td.main {
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}
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h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 {
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font-family: "URW Gothic L", sans-serif;
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font-weight: normal;
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color: #fa6900;
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}
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@ -58,10 +56,16 @@ img.face {
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}
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pre {
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background: #ccc;
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background: #e0e4cc;
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overflow-x: auto;
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}
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blockquote {
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background: #e0e4cc;
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padding: 0.1em 1em;
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border-radius: 0.4em;
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}
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#nav {
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padding: 0;
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text-align: center;
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@ -73,17 +77,3 @@ pre {
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#nav li + li:before {
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content: " | ";
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}
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address {
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clear: both;
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font-size: small;
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}
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address a {
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margin: 0 2em;
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}
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address a:before {
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padding: 0.5em;
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}
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@ -1,3 +1,7 @@
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body {
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font-family: "URW Palladio L", serif;
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}
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p, li, dd {
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text-align: justify;
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}
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@ -12,6 +16,7 @@ h1 + p, h2 + p, h3 + p, h4 + p, h5 + p, h6 + p {
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h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 {
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font-family: "URW Gothic L", sans-serif;
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font-weight: normal;
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}
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pre {
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@ -27,3 +32,17 @@ pre {
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font-size: small;
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border: solid black 1px;
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}
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address {
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clear: both;
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font-size: small;
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}
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address a {
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margin: 0 2em;
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}
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address a:before {
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padding: 0.5em;
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}
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@ -81,16 +81,16 @@ wisdom.
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The problem is that it doesn't take a genius to come up with seventeen
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syllables about anything. For example:
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Lame flying saucers
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You can see the fishing line
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What a bad movie.
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> Lame flying saucers
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> You can see the fishing line
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> What a bad movie.
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It took me all of about ten seconds to write that. Here, I'll do
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another one:
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Where's my other sock?
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It disappeared in the wash
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How did that happen?
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> Where's my other sock?
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> It disappeared in the wash
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> How did that happen?
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I hardly feel that these two stupid poems mark me as being clever or
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witty in any way, yet I defy anyone to show that they're any less
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@ -153,15 +153,15 @@ the remainder of the poem. Jennifer Jensen points to
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[a fine example of cutting](http://www.peavine.com/haiku/cuttingwords.html),
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from the 17th century haiku master Basho:
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Kutabirete
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yado karu koro ya
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fuji no hana
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> Kutabirete
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> yado karu koro ya
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> fuji no hana
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which in English is translated:
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When worn out
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And seeking an inn:
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Wisteria flowers!
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> When worn out
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> And seeking an inn:
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> Wisteria flowers!
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The cutting word above is the Japanese ya, which doesn't translate to
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English well; it more or less signals a break in thought,
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@ -175,9 +175,9 @@ another. By comparison, joke haiku writers typically bull through to
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the end at maximum speed as though they're trying to get home before
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WWF Thursday Night Smackdown starts:
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Cutting my toenails
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I cut too deep and I bleed
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all over the rug.
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> Cutting my toenails
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> I cut too deep and I bleed
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> all over the rug.
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Ironically, the one rule to which every joke haiku does
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conform—seventeen syllables in three metrical units of five, seven,
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@ -226,9 +226,9 @@ art form to pass it off as inspired quirkiness.
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Consider this example:
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Milk after five months
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in my refrigerator
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tastes just horrible.
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> Milk after five months
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> in my refrigerator
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> tastes just horrible.
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The point being made here is that sour milk tastes bad. Yet if I were
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to post it to a joke haiku bulletin board, or scribble it on a napkin
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@ -259,15 +259,15 @@ shorn of its haiku form, its true banality emerges.
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Consider the example I posted above:
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Milk after five months
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in my refrigerator
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tastes just horrible.
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> Milk after five months
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> in my refrigerator
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> tastes just horrible.
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This poem is easily the equal of any number of joke haiku posted or
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e-mailed anywhere on the Internet. Yet look at what happens when I
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remove the line breaks:
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Milk after five months in my refrigerator tastes just horrible.
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> Milk after five months in my refrigerator tastes just horrible.
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What once might have elicited satisfied chuckles from joke haiku
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aficionados becomes an excruciatingly average observation that
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@ -351,18 +351,18 @@ as a creative force.
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Consider this haiku about commuting:
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Sitting in my car
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I watch the time tick away
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This traffic sure sucks.
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> Sitting in my car
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> I watch the time tick away
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> This traffic sure sucks.
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Pedestrian and boring, it took all of ten seconds to write. To write
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a limerick on the same subject, one must work much harder:
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Nothing's worse, there can be no dispute,
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Than my everyday average commute.
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In my car long I sit.
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I just might throw a fit
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If I can't find an alternate route.
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> Nothing's worse, there can be no dispute,
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> Than my everyday average commute.
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> In my car long I sit.
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> I just might throw a fit
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> If I can't find an alternate route.
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Okay, so it's not the best limerick that's ever been written, but in a
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way that's exactly my point. This stuff's not easy to do. Do it well
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