Seems like a good day to GO KICK ASS!

25 January 2010


1. "Augustus had taken the helm, and I stationed myself by the mast, on the deck of the cuddy. We flew along at a great rate---neither of us having said a word since casting loose from the wharf."

2. "She was just a seventeen year old girl living in [...] she was tormented by the group of people who had made everyone hate her in the first place, and she had to constantly avoid the boy who had raped her."

No.1 comes from a writer born in 1809.

No.2 comes from a writer a year older than me.

Passage No.1 contains at least 4 words I don't know.

Passage No.2 contains words every 4 year old knows.

Reaction to Passage No.1 : ... this must be about a ship.

Reaction to Passage No.2 : [...] "she had to constantly avoid the boy who had raped her". wait-whAt? AHAHAHAHAHAHA

1. I don't know; perhaps using difficult words is all that it takes to become a household name. Maybe the point is to write in a verbally complicated way so that your product of intellect will stimulate the imagination of future generations as they will all sit in circles, scratch their heads / balls and try to guess by homophony the meaning of each word, because dictionaries will be used as door stoppers. Or maybe I am the only one who does this.

2. It is a common secret that some of the greatest songs were composed by musicians who at the time were under the influence of drugs. Maybe more writers should do drugs too. Or their readers should. Or maybe some writers should be giving away drugs to people who are willing to read their WOBBLY, BULLSHIT STRUCTURE OF CLOSE-TO-MONOSYLLABIC, CAREFULLY CHOSEN-TO-BE-UNDERSTOOD-BY-SINGLE-DIGIT-IQ-HOLDERS, WORDS. What's worse is that I read the first chapter of the story the No.2 passage comes from and it suspiciously enough reminds me of another book. Actually that's good because with a beginning like that, it could remind me of dozens of books.

A rose looking like other roses is nifty. A rose not looking like other roses is rare and quite possibly unique. A fucking Brussels sprout trying to look like a rose is nonetheless eaten.

I have a myspace account. These social networking sites are almost like an asshole now. Everyone has one. The problem is that everyone ends up looking like one too. I seriously can't tell one user apart from the other. Everyone has uploaded photos in the same style and fashion, everyone's names are something you have read about/ heard of/ seen trying to pass as genuine at least 15 times. What's more to having three Jokers and 27 vampires in your contact list, is that it doesn't matter what group you belong to -it doesn't matter if you're christian, metalhead, paedophile or vegetarian. Whatever you are you will look exactly like the others in your group. Perhaps a punk sticks out in a bus. But in a GG Allin concert they all fucking look the same. And then bling~ an iceberg melted in my brain and unfroze part of it. Not only did I remember where the battery charger was -after the defrosting took part-, but I also got the alarming suspicion that I look like someone else. Probably more than one actually. A whole bunch more likely. Shit, even Lady Gaga looks like someone else. She actually looks as if Marilyn Manson's experimentations with boobs finally succeeded. And Marilyn Manson looks like Alice Cooper. And Alice Cooper definitely shares the same genetic nose mold with Gaga.



So... at the end of the day everyone either looks like Lady Gaga conventionally-unconventional or as familiar as your mom?

I seriously have no idea how to make ur mom jokes.

But that's not the point. The point is that every living proof that we don't come from monkeys, but monkeys come from us, woke up one day and sort of remembered to have to be an artist. Instead of writing crappy stories -I'll use as toilet paper if they ever get published- and oversaturating myspace teenslutland known for its ability to lull paedos to soothing sleep (and btw I think Tom is the numero uno paedo-stalker, rapist-smile guy), or -and that's even worse- believing that photoshopping your fat ass/acme-party of a face is an art, keep it to the basics: drawing, painting, writing, acting, dancing, making music.

Beauty is not objective. And all of these Arts serve Beauty. All save one. Literature doesn't offer you the option to suppose. It forces you to find out. It's not there for you to judge. It's there to teach you how to judge. Intelligence is objective.

Creative Commons License
FAKE & GAY. by The Schismarch is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Greece License.

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