They got a point: it will take 50 years for anyone to even want to hear the flarf-word ever again. When Shanna Compton and Barbara Jean Reyes start calling their work "flarfy" you know that there's trouble with your ocean kingdom. The word now means "googly" and not "squidlicious un-PC assvagina-y." Recent denials by Anne Boyer that she ever wrote flarf or wanted her poems to be considered flarf mark the trifecta: rats are jumping off the ship.

Update: I wrote this on April 15, 2003:

Flarf is/was fun, OK, but now what? It's reaching that point, like on Saturday Night Live, where the catch phrase isn't getting everyone to fall to pieces anymore. The fishmonger wearily says, "Next!"