Timothy McSweeney's Header Image

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Just in time for Valentine's Day,
the Guardian in London has
reviewed and raved about
The Secret Language of Sleep.
And, for the rest of the week,
you can buy it for $5!

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POEMS
THAT WERE
CONSIDERED AND
REJECTED BEFORE
'TWAS THE NIGHT
BEFORE CHRISTMAS

WAS ESTABLISHED AS
"THE OFFICIAL AMERICAN
CHRISTMAS POEM."

BY FRANK GANNON

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HO HO
BY ALLEN GINSBERG

Wear your red suit and your boots
And that repulsive white beard
With the hardened saliva of sick nights in countless tenements,
That same red suit you bought at Woolworth's
With the money you made
From the flesh of the elves.
From their blood and their sweat
And their flesh that would scream if it had a voice,
Their tiny cries are not heard
Because of the jingle bells.
And your twisted sick appetite
That feeds on the young with
Firm buttocks.

And that "elf look."
Damn you, you big fat man in a red suit.
Goddamn you, you grotesque fat man with
Inflamed loins.
Your sickness is the sickness
Of the flesh merchant,
The Industrial man who lives
Above the elves.
Oh, damn you,
And your sick enchained animals with antlers!


Reindeer Girl
BY SYLVIA PLATH

On this month they call December,
On this street of filth,
A girl with her latest suitor
Is walking through the filthy snow
Piled on the sidewalks by the still-eyed men
Who call her "slut"
From their wretched street-sweeper machines.
And she hears the sound
Of Jack Frost nipping at her nose
And the man next to her
Drunkenly stumbles along
Thinking of a television set
That he saw in a window surrounded by fake snow
And the falsehood she has walked through
Her whole reindeer life, daddy.
Oh, Curse this idiot and his television.
Oh, father!
Curse your life with your driveway!
And your brick barbeque pit
And your American wet saliva
That sticks to your disgusting American face
With Perry Como in it
With a green face
Because they cannot get
The "tone" control right.


The Jingle Bells
BY EDGAR ALLAN POE

Hear the jingle bells!
Hear them jingle!
How they jingle!
How they jangle!
And see the madman in the red suit!
Who is coming!
He sees you!
With wide wild eyes.
He wants you!
He sees you when you sleep!
He knows what mad dances
The reindeer make!
How they twirl and touch their antlers!
How their blood is stirred
By the madman they call Claus!
How merry they are
As they drink your blood and say,
"Merry Christmas to all,
And to all a good night!"
You are their daughter!
My love!

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OTHER McSWEENEY'S FEATURES:

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Poems That Were Considered and Rejected Before 'Twas the Night Before Christmas Was Established as "the Official American Christmas Poem" By Frank Gannon
Recently Retired Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan Warns His New Puppy Against "Irrational Exuberance" By Michael Ward
Situations in Which I Would Be Willing to Die a Premature Death By Zhubin Parang
Andy Rooney Will Seat You Now By Jason Roeder
Matthew Barney: "Those NFL Films Are Great"

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GLOBAL WAR ON BEDBUGS: LETTERS FROM BEDBUG CITY

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CHRIS WHITE ANSWERS PROFOUND
QUESTIONS ABOUT THE PRESIDENTS


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KEVIN DOLGIN TELLS YOU ABOUT PLACES YOU SHOULD GO IN EUROPE

LETTERS FROM AN EARTH BALL
TO, OR CONCERNING, SEAN HANNITY


E-MAILS SENT TO THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA ENGLISH DEPARTMENT
FLAG-FOOTBALL TEAM


TRAVELING EUROPE IN STYLE WITH AUCKLAND DINGIROO,
DARK-AGE TOURIST AND CRITIC OF FOOD AND DRINK


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FLIP: A COLUMN ABOUT SKATEBOARDING

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DISPATCHES FROM A PUBLIC LIBRARIAN

EXCERPTS FROM THE PANORAMA

SOLUTIONS TO BENJAMIN TAUSIG'S
THREE-DEMENSIONAL CROSSWORD PUZZLE
IN THE SAN FRANCISCO PANORAMA


ABOUT A VERY BAD WIZARD

ABOUT THE WILD THINGS

ABOUT THE CONVALESCENT

ABOUT FEVER CHART

ABOUT GOD SAYS NO

ABOUT ZEITOUN

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ADDITIONAL MATERIAL