Intaglio 2.0

Oh joy!

I LOVE IT WHEN THE WORDNERD HERD FINALLY DEIGNS TO PICK UP LANGUAGE TRENDS BECAUSE THEY ALWAYS GET STUFF SO ADORABLY WRONG.

It reminds me of those long, awkward afternoons in theology class, where I either

A) Skipped to Revelation and savored the blood blood burnydeath action movie sequences
B) Quietly read my pocket dictionary instead.

Yeah, other nerds had comic books inside theirs. Pretty sure I was doin' it wrong. <3

I really do this shit in my spare time! Well, I used to.

I read things like The Little Brown Book of Corporate Advancement and Shakespeare's Insults: Educating Your Wit

not because I am a pretentious douchewaffle (though I will proudly admit being an arrogant windbag <3 IT'S MINE I OWN IT, WHATCHU DO NOW BITCHEZ :D)

but because I enjoy the pretty noises English makes when you contort it into all kinds of fun shapes!

I just. Love words. They're kind of my favorite thing.

And one of the things I love most about the Internet is being able to repeat all these catchphrases that have no context. I love this language. It's so weird and adorable and I don't even, can't sentence properly.

The best part is? We'll leave all this stuff behind, screaming THIS and FIRST and IAWTP, and our children and grandchildren will be largely unable to decipher any of it.

Ain't that the bee's knees.

Or possibly a humdinger. It's definitely one of those.

When I first heard this I finally understood.

This is the closest I have to a formal statement of belief.

Short version: I AM A MACRO. AND SO CAN YOU.

( ...I'll do it in three. )

Long version: ( Who is your commander? Is it him? )


Good lord. I've actually blistered my thumb on the spacebar. XD

Holyshit poetry D:

( Nero/Ayel, in the manner of freshman lit class. )

Pardon any misquotes, will you? It's been a decade since I gave a damn and five years since I read any fancy books other than Twain or London, and those not recently, and they're not European enough, you know.

Frost doesn't count, he's not European EITHER, and I can only take him in small doses, neat, with bourbon, yes I'm serious.

Migraines do odd, odd things to my thought processes. ^_^

I might actually rent this.

Just to see Nero Eric Bana beat the crap out of Seth Rogen.

Because logically he'll come to Adam Sandler's aid y/n.

Seriously. PLEASE tell me that happens. I'll love you forever.

Couldn't sleep. Not for the fun reason.

Three hours in class. I'm now absolutely positive I don't know what I'm doing and will never get it right.

And I just spent the last two hours getting yelled at.

...Dude.

It's five o'clock somewhere.

Let's recap.

( My fail, let me show you it. )

I can't read this book.

Why not? It's very simple: the Evil One's name?

Is Tharn.

As in, "Tharn goes stiff with shock and falls down dead."

I can't get past it. I just can't. Every time he's mentioned, there goes my canon fodder, CLUNK.

(No, that's not a typo. A presumption, yes, but not a typo.)

Tharn, Tharn, Tharn, CLUNK, CLUNK, KERPLUNK.

Oh. Also, it has grievous tone problems. I can forgive all sorts of stupid plot shenanigans--fantasy continues by them--but not tone problems like these. They're massive. By turns it tries to be a "horrors of war" pastiche, a Homeric wanderer's adventure, and a fucking kung-fu movie (without the kung-fu). It succeeds, kinda sorta sometimes in spots, at the last two. Its rendering of the first is laughable.

And it's got hideous First Novel Name Disease.

What's that? Simple. There are a dozen proper names in the first six pages, and it's just too many. Especially because it's a hodge-podge: some are places, some are people, and some are racial designations of these people, and since they're fantasy!Christians and fantasy!Arabs (with a side-order of fantasy!vaguely!Chinonipponese) those will be important throughout the battle, and, presumably, throughout the book.

Except, I can't care, because there's no way of telling them apart.

I got to page 80. Of 754.

I picked up Aurian next: Mary Sue Saves THE UNIVERSE.

Ah, ah, but I'm reading this for one thing only. I will stop after I get through her turn as a gladiatrix, whenever that comes.

Besides, it's at least swifter than most Mary Sue fiction, fan or otherwise. The thorougly hackneyed, totally undiverting plot is buoyed by its own stupidity: I keep reading with a sort of horrified, gleeful fascination, waiting to see when Aurian will reach up and eat the sun itself, simply because she discovers she has the power to do so.

And it was cool to see a woman with the "male" powers of earth and fire, and not, like "spirit" or "crystal" or "seabreeze" or any of that froofy shit women usually get stuck with.

I have the last book of the trilogy in my possession. Judging by the reviews, I will not miss much by not having the middle volume also.

She's ridiculously overpowered, and I like it. Not enough to recommend it, but again, it's better than other stuff I've read in the same vein, by virtue of its quickness.

You're all in my prayers. May they do you some good.

The new year is coming. Let's just all get there.

Love and good things.