As mothman, I approached the newest review of David Nett, the Village: A Review, with a certain agitation. Whereas I am a great champion of his review of Troy and 10 reasons by which still master Jennifer Aniston, (all but the 5 last paragraphs) yet my heart, I had heard of some terrible things on this last review from many prominent ones mothmen. Also was I scared to read this review because I had heard that (a) it is too long, and (b) it is always boring, and (c) I cannot read.

To all that they said these things to me, I say well: You are RIGHT!

No, hectar hectar hectar, I make a joke in the cost of David. Seriously! I LOVED this review! It is boring only moderately, and I CAN! READ!!! Short words, although, two syllables or less. So here is why I mothman loved this review:

The writing is upper-notch! Truly, it's beyond the cover-notch. It is expected that the orations masterful, checked, minimalist flow from David's muscular wrist and fingers prehensile, and do not disappoint. And his observations between parenthesis are absolutely charming on their paper -- wonderful and sad achingly, when it is the necessity (fortunate that his overrated jokes of "comedy", they that are confused and strange to me, was too much the occupied being "funny" in another article). Truth, his grammar leaves something to be wished, but in spite of the fine operations of his other abilities of the writing, when his grammar leaves you cannot wait for its returning. Return, the grammar! Kiss me in the lips! Ravish me soft with your ability! Ravish me NOW!

As far as the substance of the review -- the opinion of David. O yes, the opinion. Here it is where The Village: A Review become diced -- most of the whole those that hated it faulted the opinion of David simply. I, on the other hand, loved it!! Nett is one of the few great obscure critics that work today who inquired "what if...?" He doesn't thinks, "I'm that critic that is going to write a good review, " or even of "I to write something with 'critical' feeling;" He says, "hey -- what if I wrote a review of `The Village' while I inhales the detergent of the laundry in a whorehouse of Alabama?" At least I think that it is what he did, because is the only rational explanation.

In the end, "The Village: A Review" depends in the effects of the heavy consumption of the narcotics. If you have taste of the opinion of David, and are higher than a tapeworm in the rectum of pelican, then I think that you will love this review. If no, then you are not clearly narcotic enough, and I know an oil collector where you can buy some really excellent dilution of the paint to inhale.

Yours purely,

a Mothman.