Thursday, April 2, 2009

"Now, gods, stand up for bastards!"

I'm reading King Lear in Shakespeare. It's pretty awesome, let's just be honest. There's a character named Fool (that's always a plus), two heinous evil sisters, violent blindings, and imaginary suicides. The main action of the play all exists around the semi-idiotic title character holding a contest to see which of his daughters love him the most. The two evil ones obviously flatter him with lies while the youngest, the lovely Cordelia, says she loves him a normal and appropriate amount, with some love left over for her future husband and sissies. So her dad's all embarrassed and cuts her off and sends her to France. This is clearly a poor choice. The other sisters, who now inherit everything, turn their father out and later some people go blind and get put in the stocks and wander around in the rain and in the end pretty much everyone dies.

Here's the weird thing: when my sister and I were little, my dad used to make us read this play aloud with him. Having more understanding of this now than when I was 8, that was a pretty weird father-daughter activity. First of all, it's really violent. Secondly, it's freaking Shakespeare--what kind of 6 and 8 years olds understand that stuff? Third, I think my dad might have been really worried that we might grow up and try to kill him to get at our inheritance. He used to ask us, "Which of Lear's daughters are you?" "Cordelia!" we'd cry in unison, and then we'd go off to do other father-daughter activities like roll in poison ivy accidentally and watch videos of plastic surgery (breast implant operations are not the best to view before eating lasanga).

Monday, March 23, 2009

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Sleeping in the library


i love sleep. it really might be my favorite. i can pretty much do it anywhere, which, having spoken to plenty of people who can't even do it on planes, i think is a fantastic talent. i generally become fatigued at school, especially after listening to my very excited marxism teacher get all hot and bothered about slavoj zizek--so much so that he leans against the blackboard and gets chalk all over his silly little ass. (like the teacher, hate the class.) Anyway, so lots of people like to sleep at gsu. we have big chairs in the library and they're rather nice. the best way to get a good hour's nap in is to push two of the chairs together and create a cradle. i am currently sitting in one such cradle right now. and so is the studious girl about 3 feet in front of me...and the texting girl 6 feet behind me...and--the piece de resistance--the old, disgusting, snoring man about 8 feet over my right shoulder. this sleeping beauty of a man is at least 60 years old. he clearly isn't a professor, or he'd be sleeping in his office. anyone is allowed in our library, provided they leave some sort of colateral at the front desk, which leads me to believe this weirdo might be homeless...he does look pretty clean though. i have taken two pictures of him so far, and if i can figure out how to post them, i will definitely make that happen.

the thing is, i don't mind the sleeping in the library, it's a good spot to do so, but SNORING IN THE LIBRARY? out. of. control. snoring is so disgusting. it is something i'd never do (mainly because of my perfection). it sounds like a big, fat, mucus parade of nonsense. earlier, before waking up and deciding to write a blog, there was another old man in the cradle to my left who was also snoring. this tag-teamed snoring duo sandwiching my slumbers was extremely dispruptive. what if i had been studying? how rude. luckily, i don't snore, i only talk in my sleep.

oh, and as this is my first post, let me just forewarn everyone out there: i am not good at finishing things and writing conclusions. therefore all posts will simply end abruptly. but really, it's a blog, who cares?