warning: my filters are down, so what gets said gets said.
i'm supposed to be writing an analysis of William Carlos Williams' "The Young Housewife," but it's going slowly.
and now, stuff i hate.
***n.b.: i do really irritating stuff too. i'm aware. but it's easier and more fun to judge others, so...
why do people call each other "chica?" it is infinitely annoying. in fact, a lot of suddenly-popular slang is annoying. this "i heart" business is getting extraordinarily old. my barometer used to be my high school...by the time slang trickled down (up?) to the white upper-middle class bastion of Germantown Academy, it was long over. i hate to say it, but i'm kind of getting sick of napoleon dynamite references, too. it is a very funny movie, but it was even funnier back in may or june when it came out here and presumably even more so when it opened in new york in the spring. and i'm not naming names, but i encouraged certain individuals to see it this summer, and because it wasn't on the stupid white america radar, they were like, "uhhhhh... no, i'd rather see this glorified piece of crap instead." and what the fuck do you think they're quoting constantly now? if you wander around the jungle, you'll probably hear monkeys saying "dang!" and "I-diot!" Geeeeeeeez.
i hate working for people. superiors suck. especially control freaks who think that your life revolves around their schedule of anality. i think it's time for me to decide what fits into my life and what doesn't, thank you very much. and having to be sanitized and acceptable to the viewing public certainly does not.
i feel better now. so to close, here's something i love: poetry. the political theme of last night is on my mind. so easter, 1916; dulce et decorum est; [i sing of Olaf glad and big]; the second coming; theme for english b; as i walked out one evening (which i'll post on valentine's day, as always)... all on my mind. but i might as well post what i'm working on now:
The Young Housewife
At ten A.M. the young housewife
moves about in neglige behind
the wooden walls of her husband's house.
I pass solitary in my car.
Then again she comes to the curb
to call the ice-man, fish-man, and stands
shy, uncorseted, tucking in
stray ends of hair, and I compare her
to a fallen leaf.
The noiseless wheels of my car
rush with a crackling sound over
dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling.
-William Carlos Williams
and now, stuff i hate.
***n.b.: i do really irritating stuff too. i'm aware. but it's easier and more fun to judge others, so...
why do people call each other "chica?" it is infinitely annoying. in fact, a lot of suddenly-popular slang is annoying. this "i heart" business is getting extraordinarily old. my barometer used to be my high school...by the time slang trickled down (up?) to the white upper-middle class bastion of Germantown Academy, it was long over. i hate to say it, but i'm kind of getting sick of napoleon dynamite references, too. it is a very funny movie, but it was even funnier back in may or june when it came out here and presumably even more so when it opened in new york in the spring. and i'm not naming names, but i encouraged certain individuals to see it this summer, and because it wasn't on the stupid white america radar, they were like, "uhhhhh... no, i'd rather see this glorified piece of crap instead." and what the fuck do you think they're quoting constantly now? if you wander around the jungle, you'll probably hear monkeys saying "dang!" and "I-diot!" Geeeeeeeez.
i hate working for people. superiors suck. especially control freaks who think that your life revolves around their schedule of anality. i think it's time for me to decide what fits into my life and what doesn't, thank you very much. and having to be sanitized and acceptable to the viewing public certainly does not.
i feel better now. so to close, here's something i love: poetry. the political theme of last night is on my mind. so easter, 1916; dulce et decorum est; [i sing of Olaf glad and big]; the second coming; theme for english b; as i walked out one evening (which i'll post on valentine's day, as always)... all on my mind. but i might as well post what i'm working on now:
The Young Housewife
At ten A.M. the young housewife
moves about in neglige behind
the wooden walls of her husband's house.
I pass solitary in my car.
Then again she comes to the curb
to call the ice-man, fish-man, and stands
shy, uncorseted, tucking in
stray ends of hair, and I compare her
to a fallen leaf.
The noiseless wheels of my car
rush with a crackling sound over
dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling.
-William Carlos Williams