THEY'RE GREAT!

At this moment in time, my philosofamily is reading a book called The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, much to the dismay of Michael, who thinks this book is so horribly boring, that he would rather be doing something completely different. Wow, how original. I personally think the book is great, but it does take a little while for things to get interesting.

Once things do get interesting, we meet a wonderful character named Ray Gatsby, who lives the social life like never before. His house is packed with random strangers, many who just arrive by themselves. All the time he is just waiting for something, which I won't spoil. Our main character calls this man, "the great Gatsby", hence the tittle of the book. I know this is a pretty ordinary and vague question, but what makes someone great?

If a monarch or a athlete is particularly good at doing his or her job, then they may be referred to as great, but Gatsby is no Monarch. So why does he receive this illustrious tittle? Well, I think it is because he is somewhat of a legend. Even though great is not the best of word choices, if someone called me great, I would be very happy, and rather bashful. of course, Gatsby is always bashful, and...

I really lost track of my thoughts here.

Great is a tittle, I think is weak in word choice, but powerful as a complement.

Which of course is why everyone buys Frosted Flakes

Climbin' In Yo Windows (Blog Marathon 2)

Your house should be something you feel safe in. It is yours after all, why should you think any harm could come to you? Home has a feel to it that just feels so snug. A perfect feeling. But those feelings can be changed. Sometimes, horrible things can happen, which change your Ideas of everything you thought before.

In a book I just finished called Saturday, by Ian Mcewan, or main character, Henry, gets into some fisticuffs with some prestigious gentlemen from a lap dancing club. Unfortunately for Henry, the men are not happy with Henry's use of wit to take on their brute force. So they end up following his wife home, and intruding on his family reunion, with a knife. I will not spoil the ending, but I thought about how if this was a real person's story, that he would have a changed idea of how safe his house is, and rightfully so.

I hate the feeling of being traumatized. It has happened to me before, not the men coming into my house with a knife, but being traumatized, and I have to say it is life changing. You end up never thinking about the thing in the same way. No matter how hard you try, something big has changed in your mind, and you can do nothing. The feeling is there.

It's a horrible feeling.

Tickles Me Funny Bone (Blog Marathon 1)

Humor. The essence of many lives and careers, brought into focus through comedy. Being funny. It is a way many choose to relax, or make things better. Got fired from your job? Make a funny joke. Cat just died? Well, screw that, I feel like laughing, and so should you.

Why am I speaking of humor? What devil witchcraft has brought that word into my sacred blog? Well, I am reading a wonderful book by the name of Experience, by Martin Amis. In this book, subtle laughs are behind each page, and no story is without a chuckle. Even on the back does it say; "Experience is the only book I have ever read, that keeps me laughing all the way through." I almost entirely agree, except I am not one to laugh out loud at most anything, let alone a book. Still, high praise indeed.

It started to make me think about what makes a book good? I have read so many books, but all the ones that stand out have no comedy in them. They all are serious, and sullen, and sometimes witty, but never plain funny. As easy as it is to make a comedy movie, a comedy book seems to be impossible. Classics do not include those books about Butts, they came from Uranus or something. The Classics are Charles Dickens, Shakespeare and Tolstoy. No pure comedy.

The world needs funny books.

H to the I

It is finally time for me to come clean about something. I absolutely hate hipsters. They are all so stupid, with the way they try to act cool by acting like they are not trying to act cool (that was complicated, but you will get it). They all have such good lives, living in their condominiums with others of their kind, enjoying the luxuries of the upper west side, eating good but over priced food. I hate them all.

And yet I want to be just like them.

They are my Idols. Not the fake ones who wear expensive clothes and rip them with scissors to make them look wore. No, not them, but the poser generation X's. The ones who left lalapolooza for the joys of cafes. I want to sit in a cafe, read a Virginia Woolf novel, and sip an over priced but not half bad espresso. That would be the day...

Of course, I begin to think about all this because in my book, Saturday by Ian McEwan, The neurosurgeon comes downstairs to find his young adult son eating a yogurt with tons of dried fruits and granola. A very hipster - ish thing to do.

Just what I want to do.