I was so surprised when this book was the right answer. I was like, "GO FOR THE DEATH OF A SALESMAN!" And then when she didn't pick it, I yelled at the radio. And then didn't I look silly.
I had never listened to a full episode of Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me before. It's pretty hysterical.
It really is. That's where half of my love for Paula Poundstone comes from (I feel like no one has ever said that before and it disappoints me). Bill and I never catch it on the radio anymore, so we stream a few episodes at a time while we do sudoku or prepare our liberal elitist meals.
It really sounds like a non-young person's show. I feel like it's an introduction to my 40s or something. At some point before I gave it an honest listen, I would become irritated when I found it was on NPR during my sunday drives.
Don't feel bad. I was certain it wasn't the zombies. Certain.
I think--and this sounds totally asinine--that the image of the fair lady is SOMEWHAT SIMILAR to any picture of a woman in a veil. From the nose up, she's still classically beautiful: fair skin, large, calm eyes... so okay, they're red, but it's aesthetically pleasing against her pallor. It's just... instead of a veil, you can't see her mouth because half of her face has been torn the hell off.
At least that's what it is for me. I find myself consciously making myself move my eyes from hers to examine her godawful and undead mouth after a few moments.
I think we're all going to hell. There's a foul storm a-brewin on that there horizon.
This is our public school way of getting back at our high school and freshman year lit professors who held onto thoughtfully and professionally written prose while we were all "BEEEEER!! and LOUD MUSIC!!! and... and ZOMBIES and ROBOTS but not pirates because fuck that anymore it's so yesterday!!!!"
They're all old and fragile. Every one of them. Everyone who taught our generation anything about Austen is immediately 89 years old and can't protect themselves from the mayhem. Zombie Ted Nugent playing a guitar that's also a machine gun while he rides his flying contraption. That kind of thing is what we're giving back.
Comments 5
I was so surprised when this book was the right answer. I was like, "GO FOR THE DEATH OF A SALESMAN!" And then when she didn't pick it, I yelled at the radio. And then didn't I look silly.
I had never listened to a full episode of Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me before. It's pretty hysterical.
Reply
It really sounds like a non-young person's show. I feel like it's an introduction to my 40s or something. At some point before I gave it an honest listen, I would become irritated when I found it was on NPR during my sunday drives.
Don't feel bad. I was certain it wasn't the zombies. Certain.
Reply
Reply
At least that's what it is for me. I find myself consciously making myself move my eyes from hers to examine her godawful and undead mouth after a few moments.
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
This is our public school way of getting back at our high school and freshman year lit professors who held onto thoughtfully and professionally written prose while we were all "BEEEEER!! and LOUD MUSIC!!! and... and ZOMBIES and ROBOTS but not pirates because fuck that anymore it's so yesterday!!!!"
They're all old and fragile. Every one of them. Everyone who taught our generation anything about Austen is immediately 89 years old and can't protect themselves from the mayhem. Zombie Ted Nugent playing a guitar that's also a machine gun while he rides his flying contraption. That kind of thing is what we're giving back.
Which is funny, because it's Pride and Prejudice.
Reply
Leave a comment