For the last year or so my street cred as an English academic, bookworm, pseudo-intellectual and suchlike has been seriously under threat within the confines of our
book club by a serious failure on my part, viz. a continued inability to read The Time-Traveller's Wife. All other book club members have raved about this work. Various reviewers have
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I know how you feel (although not Kung Fu Hustle, it rocked my socks), but not the degree to which you seem to feel it.
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Extremes or nothing, say I! (Obviously that last bit related to the feeling cussed about movies, not the bust and corset issue, although I can see how it might have been interesting in the latter context, too.)
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Anyway, the best part of the movie is when he sinks to the bottom of the ocean, frozen and blue. Just rewind and watch, over and over. Seriously, the rest is crap.
-Jo(ty)
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Exactly! People repeatedly urging an action on the wantonly cussed tend to cause its opposite, just because.
You have more moral fibre than I have re the Neal Stephenson. I adore Neal Stephenson, and take a gleeful pleasure in forcing third-year English students to read Snow Crash, but the Baroque Cycle is seriously daunting me. All those damned science history in-jokes simply go straight over my head.
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