Pride and Prejudice. Mostly Prejudice.
Since P-chan is relatively preoccupied and away from the internet where she's unable to assault me through telekinesis (assuming she doesn't feel the Force-disturbance when I say what I'm about to), I just have to state a SCIENTIFIC FACT.
Jane Austen's books are fetid dungheaps that would be of more relevance to mankind if we were to burn them, but I'd rather use the charcoal kindling to filter cigarettes and die a slow physical death than the eons-long onslaught of pure suck contained on every page of her books that brings about a mental death reminiscent of only two things: Jar-Jar Binks, and I don't even need to think of a second thing because that pretty much sums up the extent of her failure.
Austen is not a Romantic writer. She's not a Victorian writer. For the sake of ease, we'll just never refer to her as a writer ever again.
Let's take Pride and Prejudice as an example since I am being forced to begin my Victorian Lit class with it. Or, more precisely, the professor is psyching us out by giving us authentic and worthwhile scripts by Tennyson and Browning and then lolling us as we nose-dive into Austen.
Granted, we're doing Austen now as his logic is to save the best for last.
No one will ever begin Pride and Prejudice thinking it's an action novel. Angelina Jolie will never star as Elizabeth tri-wielding uzis (two in her hands and one in that hideous monster that resides on the lower portion of her face).
But everyone will begin Pride and Prejudice thinking that something, ANYTHING would happen. Everyone who manages to finish this bark-scrawl will STILL be waiting for anything, anything at all to happen.
If you said, "but it's a story about her facing the social atmosphere of her-" ZZzzzzzz you're fired.
It's not about jack shit. Anything said in that book could've been said eighty times better by an illiterate orphan with sidewalk chalk and only a thumb-pinky combo to draw with.
When I'm done with this "book" that I'm being forced to spend five dollars more than it's worth on (yes, it costs five dollars) I'm seriously, 100% literally going to tie rocks to it and find a lake to throw it in. Despite that burial at sea is supposed to be an honor, I can only hope that it'll be somewhat like fishing with dynamite and that everything in its wake as it spirals to the depths will float back to the top, lifeless and ready for grilling.
And to anyone who says, "Bawwww Austen has withstood the test of time," so has diarrhea. Six thousand years of human civilization and they don't have a shot that will make infants and the elderly not have explosive projectile shits (especially after being forced to read this novel).
To those who say, "Bawwww if you're so awesome where's your classic, then?" just give me a bit of time. Actually, just give me some safety scissors, construction paper, and glitter glue. I can make something more entertaining than the whole of Pride and Prejudice in about thirty seconds.
If you haven't been unfortunate enough to have read this story before, feel free to profess this to any Jehova's Witnesses that come by your home, because clearly you are one of the Lord's blessed and chosen people. Don't even think of watching any of the movies or so much as peeking at some Cliff's Notes. I'm fairly sure that if you inspect the back of the book where the recap is usually at there is a Surgeon General's warning against reading the book if you are elderly, pregnant, or have any last shred of taste.
To summarize, I'm very much looking forward to teaching classes where I can force unsuspecting children to read this book. The ensuing woe and agony should bring my students closer together and give them hope in a brighter future, where time-traveling robots can go back to punch Jane Austen in the throat before she learns to walk.
THE END
tl;dr
(There was more excitement, drama, violence, and humor in this post than there was in the entire book "Pride and Prejudice."
Jane Austen's books are fetid dungheaps that would be of more relevance to mankind if we were to burn them, but I'd rather use the charcoal kindling to filter cigarettes and die a slow physical death than the eons-long onslaught of pure suck contained on every page of her books that brings about a mental death reminiscent of only two things: Jar-Jar Binks, and I don't even need to think of a second thing because that pretty much sums up the extent of her failure.
Austen is not a Romantic writer. She's not a Victorian writer. For the sake of ease, we'll just never refer to her as a writer ever again.
Let's take Pride and Prejudice as an example since I am being forced to begin my Victorian Lit class with it. Or, more precisely, the professor is psyching us out by giving us authentic and worthwhile scripts by Tennyson and Browning and then lolling us as we nose-dive into Austen.
Granted, we're doing Austen now as his logic is to save the best for last.
No one will ever begin Pride and Prejudice thinking it's an action novel. Angelina Jolie will never star as Elizabeth tri-wielding uzis (two in her hands and one in that hideous monster that resides on the lower portion of her face).
But everyone will begin Pride and Prejudice thinking that something, ANYTHING would happen. Everyone who manages to finish this bark-scrawl will STILL be waiting for anything, anything at all to happen.
If you said, "but it's a story about her facing the social atmosphere of her-" ZZzzzzzz you're fired.
It's not about jack shit. Anything said in that book could've been said eighty times better by an illiterate orphan with sidewalk chalk and only a thumb-pinky combo to draw with.
When I'm done with this "book" that I'm being forced to spend five dollars more than it's worth on (yes, it costs five dollars) I'm seriously, 100% literally going to tie rocks to it and find a lake to throw it in. Despite that burial at sea is supposed to be an honor, I can only hope that it'll be somewhat like fishing with dynamite and that everything in its wake as it spirals to the depths will float back to the top, lifeless and ready for grilling.
And to anyone who says, "Bawwww Austen has withstood the test of time," so has diarrhea. Six thousand years of human civilization and they don't have a shot that will make infants and the elderly not have explosive projectile shits (especially after being forced to read this novel).
To those who say, "Bawwww if you're so awesome where's your classic, then?" just give me a bit of time. Actually, just give me some safety scissors, construction paper, and glitter glue. I can make something more entertaining than the whole of Pride and Prejudice in about thirty seconds.
If you haven't been unfortunate enough to have read this story before, feel free to profess this to any Jehova's Witnesses that come by your home, because clearly you are one of the Lord's blessed and chosen people. Don't even think of watching any of the movies or so much as peeking at some Cliff's Notes. I'm fairly sure that if you inspect the back of the book where the recap is usually at there is a Surgeon General's warning against reading the book if you are elderly, pregnant, or have any last shred of taste.
To summarize, I'm very much looking forward to teaching classes where I can force unsuspecting children to read this book. The ensuing woe and agony should bring my students closer together and give them hope in a brighter future, where time-traveling robots can go back to punch Jane Austen in the throat before she learns to walk.
THE END
tl;dr
(There was more excitement, drama, violence, and humor in this post than there was in the entire book "Pride and Prejudice."
posted by red at 12:38
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home