(no subject)
It's raining. Yay! It wont be stinky and hot today. Still a bit sick, but eh. I will clearly live.
I got so much cool stuff for Christmas. Because I've had hardly any money this year I asked Mum for mostly books, and got pretty much every one of them. I've already read two (Inexcusable by Chris Lynch and Twitterature by Alexander Aciman and Emmet Rensin). Twitterature was pretty funny. For example,
Mrs Dalloway
by Virginia Woolf
@flowergirl
Ah! A party tonight! Should be a fine time - fun, friends, nothing stressful, nothing awkward. Should be a blast!
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And I've got these lovely, lovely flowers. Need only now to prepare my house for this fine even-- oh my God it's Peter.
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He thinks I don't love my husband because of him. The secret is, I don't love my husband because I dig chicks.
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On a side note, has anybody noticed that @Septimus' posts have become a little erratic since the war ended?
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Really, he used to love Shakespeare and poetry. Now he's like the Bard of SADford upon Lame-on.
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It's alright though, he's probably suffering from a lack of porportions. I mean, sure, most of his friends died, but think how many lived??
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Ah, my husband is home! He's brought be a bundle of roses! I bet he loves m-- well, this is just uncomfortable.
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A void exists between my husband and I. It's as if I am... different, somehow. I'm not sure what one would call it though.
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Now this awful woman has come to teach my daughter. Ah, how I hate this bitch. Really, everyone is stressing me out today.
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So, Septimus' doctors decided he really was insane. Taking their advice, he decided to take the plunge... out of a tenth story window.
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Finally, time for the party! Though I'm not sure how I'm feeling about it now, to be honest. All these assholes kind of make my life hell.
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I identify with Septimus though, more than these awful people who make Victorian life so open to criticism....
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Because I'm not sure if you realise, but Victorian life is backwards. Really backwards. These people are insane.
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Perhaps I should jump out of a window too, that might get me away from this ridiculous, oppressive society.
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Or a river. Yeah, that's it. A river.
The writing in Inexcusable wasn't great, but the book did a really good job of getting inside of the characters head and reasoning. It does a pretty good job in highlighting that rapists don't have to be the creepy guy waiting in the bushes with obvious intent of violence. I think that image is confusing to people, because if you're raped by someone who doesn't fit that profile, or are a rapist who doesn't fit that profile, then people are inclined to not call that person a rapist, or for the incident to not be 'rape-rape', or for victims to invalidate their experience as traumatic or wrong. I haven't read anything about the intended audience, but given the guy is a senior in high school, I'm guessing young adult. So maybe that's why the language wasn't as sophisticated as I usually like. But regardless, it was good for it's cultural comment.
I also read volume one and two of the comic My Brain Hurts by Liz Baillie, which was awesome. Really awesome. I guess I wasn't too keen on the fact that the kids in it were 13 and as sexualized and into drugs as they were, but eh. I did some of that stuff, so being judgmental about it would make me a hypocrite. Still, it was pretty full on for the age of the characters. But very good.
Anyhoo, off to clean and apply for jobs.
P.S. Comic by Julia Wertz. (super cool lady who does The Fart Party)
I got so much cool stuff for Christmas. Because I've had hardly any money this year I asked Mum for mostly books, and got pretty much every one of them. I've already read two (Inexcusable by Chris Lynch and Twitterature by Alexander Aciman and Emmet Rensin). Twitterature was pretty funny. For example,
Mrs Dalloway
by Virginia Woolf
@flowergirl
Ah! A party tonight! Should be a fine time - fun, friends, nothing stressful, nothing awkward. Should be a blast!
-
And I've got these lovely, lovely flowers. Need only now to prepare my house for this fine even-- oh my God it's Peter.
-
He thinks I don't love my husband because of him. The secret is, I don't love my husband because I dig chicks.
-
On a side note, has anybody noticed that @Septimus' posts have become a little erratic since the war ended?
-
Really, he used to love Shakespeare and poetry. Now he's like the Bard of SADford upon Lame-on.
-
It's alright though, he's probably suffering from a lack of porportions. I mean, sure, most of his friends died, but think how many lived??
-
Ah, my husband is home! He's brought be a bundle of roses! I bet he loves m-- well, this is just uncomfortable.
-
A void exists between my husband and I. It's as if I am... different, somehow. I'm not sure what one would call it though.
-
Now this awful woman has come to teach my daughter. Ah, how I hate this bitch. Really, everyone is stressing me out today.
-
So, Septimus' doctors decided he really was insane. Taking their advice, he decided to take the plunge... out of a tenth story window.
-
Finally, time for the party! Though I'm not sure how I'm feeling about it now, to be honest. All these assholes kind of make my life hell.
-
I identify with Septimus though, more than these awful people who make Victorian life so open to criticism....
-
Because I'm not sure if you realise, but Victorian life is backwards. Really backwards. These people are insane.
-
Perhaps I should jump out of a window too, that might get me away from this ridiculous, oppressive society.
-
Or a river. Yeah, that's it. A river.
The writing in Inexcusable wasn't great, but the book did a really good job of getting inside of the characters head and reasoning. It does a pretty good job in highlighting that rapists don't have to be the creepy guy waiting in the bushes with obvious intent of violence. I think that image is confusing to people, because if you're raped by someone who doesn't fit that profile, or are a rapist who doesn't fit that profile, then people are inclined to not call that person a rapist, or for the incident to not be 'rape-rape', or for victims to invalidate their experience as traumatic or wrong. I haven't read anything about the intended audience, but given the guy is a senior in high school, I'm guessing young adult. So maybe that's why the language wasn't as sophisticated as I usually like. But regardless, it was good for it's cultural comment.
I also read volume one and two of the comic My Brain Hurts by Liz Baillie, which was awesome. Really awesome. I guess I wasn't too keen on the fact that the kids in it were 13 and as sexualized and into drugs as they were, but eh. I did some of that stuff, so being judgmental about it would make me a hypocrite. Still, it was pretty full on for the age of the characters. But very good.
Anyhoo, off to clean and apply for jobs.
P.S. Comic by Julia Wertz. (super cool lady who does The Fart Party)