Fucking Frankenstein by Mr. Matt Allen



This Fucking Frankenstein shit is what Mary Shelley might have written back in her day were she possessed by the washed-up spirit of Andrew Dice Clay. It's that bad: Crass, unfunny vulgarity for crass, unfunny vulgarity's sake. Fucking Stooo-pid!

Fucking Frankenstein is the Jackass or - worse - Beavis and Butthead of a terrible trend occuring with alarming regularity in recent literature: the mashup, er, perversion and distortion of classic literature, be it the disrespectful drivel of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, or some dumbed-down graphic novel version of a classic, so abridged as to be unrecognizable and irrelevant to the author's original intentions.

If you're a skinny boy of thirteen, you'll probably guffaw your pimply little face off, you dweeb, once you see the "F" word in all it's magnificent variants: "fuck," "fucking," "fucked," "fucker," - inserted indiscriminately - for no fucking artistic purpose whatsoever - every other fucking sentence or so, in Fucking Frankenstein. Mary Shelley, I'm sure, cannot be lying peacefully in her grave over this fucking travesty - over this senseless and embarassing butchery of her macabre masterpiece.

Why would somebody write this shit, let alone go to the exorbitant expense of procuring a legitimate isbn for it and the cost of publishing? As a goof? As some inside joke that nobody gets? Because nobody's laughing, except for the dweebs (and nobody's going to buy Fucking Frankenstein either), because it's not funny, and it's not fresh, and it's not the real Frankenstein! Though it is infantile, if you're big on infantile. Even the bookcover stops eliciting laughs after you've looked at it a dozen times or two.

And note that the word, "Fucking" in the title that prefaces "Frankenstein," is not to be read as an active verb for all you twisted sickos out there who'd probably enjoy attempting doing to Frankenstein what the title suggests. Fucking Frankenstein, again, is not some demented how-to sex manual for monsters. What fucking monster in their right fucking mind would want to bonk Frankenstein anyway? The Creature from the Black Lagoon? The Wolfman maybe?

So what's next in this depraved new world of the mashup? Harry Fucking Potter? Sounds like gay porn to me. How about A Tale of Two Fucking Cities? That sounds catchy! Yeah, I like that. Or maybe Mr. Matt Allen (don't you love how very formal and classy he is with that "Mr." before his name?) could next compose, The Fucking Idiot.

The title, The Fucking Idiot, could serve for Mr. Matt Allen, both as a "cool" (though unconscionable) disparagement of Dostoyevski's famous novel, while also serving as the title to Mr. Matt Allen's future autobiography.

Yeah. Now that sounds fucking good. That makes some much needed fucking sense.

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