What if Cormac Mccarthy were on Yelp?

What if Cormac Mccarthy posted reviews on Yelp?

Real examples of his writing from The Road:
"Then they walked out to the road and he took the boy's hand and they went to the top of the hill where the road crested and where they could see out over the darkening country to the south, standing there in the wind, wrapped in their blankets, watching for any sign of a fire or a lamp. There was nothing."

"In those first years the roads were peopled with refugees shrouded up in their clothing. Wearing masks and goggles, sitting in their rags by the side of the road like ruined aviators. Their barrows heaped with shoddy."


Examples from the Tumblr called Yelping with Cormac:
Taco Bell. One star.

They left him there in the cell. Delirious. Speaking of crazy things. Wild things. The guards would not touch him. As if his blaspheme would taint all in his presence.

We do not know how many days passed. The villagers assumed that the man had been shot. Many claimed to have seen his corpse. But finally a visitor came. He was a man from the restaurant. The guard introduced him as assistant manager Marty. Marty spoke to the prisoner with friendly words. Of a terrible misunderstanding. Of regret. For the taco. For his experience at the restaurant. That perhaps some reckoning could be made. Some settling of accounts. Perhaps a ten dollar gift certificate.

And the man who ate the taco rose for the first time in days. Unsteady on his ruined leg. What could he say? After what had occurred. The struggle and the lives lost and the villages left smoldering and glowing as if the earth’s integument was torn and hell laid bare.

He told Marty that his parlay was with no man or restaurant chain but with God. That no ten dollar gift certificate could recompense for an abomination that left mankind orphaned and Godless and wandering in a barren and eternal wasteland. That the taco could no more be unmade than time stopped. Than the deserts flooded with water.

Marty said nothing and turned to leave but the man stopped him. He asked Marty what had become of the taco. And the assistant manager said that it had been burned and the ashes spread at night. The man who ate the taco laughed at this. He laughed and would not stop even when the priest came. And they took him to the yard and there he was shot and at last he stopped laughing.


If you like this kind of thing, and I do, read more here.




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