Because, just like the last time I checked, she is dead.
However, in my dream last night, I went to Dorothy Parker's blog. I was delighted to have found it. As things are in dreamland, it was a place you could sort of swim into, and have a drink, merge with other presences in a more vibrating way than the real cyberland allows. There were an additional couple of senses involved.
Can you imagine what a bristling pool of snappery and grumpiness and playful cheek her blog would have been?
She was well known for her fabulous verse and her witty epithets, but as Constant Reader she brought us beautiful bitchiness in her literary reviews.
"There are times when images blow to fluff, and comparisons stiffen and shrivel. Such an occasion is surely at hand when one is confronted by Dreiser's latest museum piece, Dawn... The reading of Dawn is a strain upon many parts, but the worst wear and tear fall on the forearms."
"I don't want to review books any more. It cuts too much into my reading."
Dear old Dots, who only wanted to "make enough to keep body and soul apart." What a splendid read her blog would be, if, well, y'know. Time and place and all that.
P.S. I will not play with the Black Box. I will not play with the Black Box. Not until this job is over...
Hey, I don't need to... my dreams take me to very interesting places as it is...