Post by Sprague Dawley on Oct 25, 2024 10:14:19 GMT
Metamorphosis. (1915)
Polished this off. All 55 pages of it.
Herculean effort from me.
After the 55 page story the book had another 100 PAGES of "Critical Essays" where all the word scientists had to queue up and jizz out their monumentally wanky and soulless disseminations of the thing. Way to ruin the mood, cunts. Sorry, the simple and spellbinding majesty of Gregor Samsa's horrific plight is done now, back to earth as pompous twats form an orderly queue to forensically explain the joke at the dinner party. "Here's what poor old Franz was subconsciously meeeeeeeaning when he wrote the blah blah blah bit."
Fucking egghead tossers.
Fuck off with your soulless critical tracts of self-important bilious blowhard bullshit. No matter how long-winded and righteous and finicky and impenetrably prolix your deep analytical insight is, you're not going down in history as the writer of the 2nd greatest short story ever after Chekhov's "The Kiss". So jog the fuck on cuntz.
Polished this off. All 55 pages of it.
Herculean effort from me.
After the 55 page story the book had another 100 PAGES of "Critical Essays" where all the word scientists had to queue up and jizz out their monumentally wanky and soulless disseminations of the thing. Way to ruin the mood, cunts. Sorry, the simple and spellbinding majesty of Gregor Samsa's horrific plight is done now, back to earth as pompous twats form an orderly queue to forensically explain the joke at the dinner party. "Here's what poor old Franz was subconsciously meeeeeeeaning when he wrote the blah blah blah bit."
Fucking egghead tossers.
Fuck off with your soulless critical tracts of self-important bilious blowhard bullshit. No matter how long-winded and righteous and finicky and impenetrably prolix your deep analytical insight is, you're not going down in history as the writer of the 2nd greatest short story ever after Chekhov's "The Kiss". So jog the fuck on cuntz.
