Luke > Recent Status Updates

EXCITEMENT IS MINE.

...Dora María Tellez, in charge of negotiating with Somoza...was twenty-two years old. She was a delicate, small woman, a medical student, who proved herself to be one of the fiercest guerrillas during the final offensive. She eventually led the troops that took control of the first city liberated in Nicaragua in 1979. Her military staff were all women.

People who like your reviews and whose reviews make you sick are always a wonder.

Somewhere out in the ether, Evans is laughing her head off at the poor mortal here who thought a section titled 'Three Love Problems' wouldn't be chockful of politics. Though, not as much as she's laughing at the inept one of my presentation group.

This is going to be so much fucking fun. Alas that I must hold off until midterm and 'Sense and Sensibility' essay are through.

Who needs audiobooks when you have a sibling so enamored with reading aloud to you that they'll follow you around as you go about your errands.

Austen's back to her "well hung" business.

The next seventeen pages are a printing error. Uggggh. The fact that I'm tempted to buy the ebook in order to keep going as quickly as possible should tell you something about it.

So tall, these trees, firm and impossible. They look as though they have been built by hand to carry improper histories.

Obligation may be stretched till it is no better than a brand of slavery stamped on us when we were too young to know its meaning.

My publication year stats graph is never going to recover from 'The Epic of Gilgamesh'.

We may handle even extreme opinions with impunity while our furniture, our dinner giving, and preference for armoral bearings in our own case link us indissolubly with the established order.

The best thing about my Austen class is that, amongst the six novels, I have two successful, two less than successful, and two potentially successful. 'Tis a nice balance.

Chaucer and the majority of his pilgrims thought poor undergraduates were crafty sex on wheels. How the times have changed.

Started today off by finishing 'Sense and Sensibility', switched over to Middle English + verse translations of Canterbury Tales in prep for a quiz, Middlemarch class, switched over to Acts 2 & 3 of Hamlet cause the prof will know if you haven't read the material, switched over to required posting on 'Sense and Sensibility' beginning essay, now back to Chaucer for late night group collaboration.

*dead*

Exit, tugging in corpse

Found my $100 class assigned edition in the library, aka fucking the system of another brick in the capitalistic wall with the Wife of Bath.

I know I just updated, but FUCKING WILLOUGHBY.

The fact that my edition is unabriged is ridiculous. That means there are abriged versions floating around. What are you going to do? Cut out the snark? You have to admit that those are the most unnecessary Austen bits. Whether you enjoy the final product or not is on you.

...Marianne, who had the knack of finding her way in every house to the library, however it might be avoided by the family in general, soon procured herself a book.

I still get chills thinking about Shakespeare choosing to play the Ghost.

Third group presentation member showed up after four weeks, three books, and two presentations. He cautiously spoke to me as if I was both a hard ass and pissed at him. He's right.

You've heard of the mother-in-law; now, get ready for pairs of people who think having fertile heterosexual sex entitles them to slave ownership. Thanks to Wollstonecraft, I get to write a paper on this for class.

Huh! Sin it is that has to support virtue.

Thailand's one of the few countries that was never colonized by European powers. I wonder if that's a factor in how little translated Thai lit I've come across.

Unlike the majority of the tragedies, I need only finish Act I by Tuesday, rather than the entirety of the play. I'm pleased the prof recognizes the need to go slow with this one.

Coyness finds its purest form in the shape of a man. The fact that this is not oft remarked upon only attests to its success.

White washed Heathcliff is one of the more exhausting shows of obtuseness in the literary world, and that's saying something.

Sir John's a walking, talking embodiment of Facebook. It just goes to show that the supposed evils of the modern day are the same evils of the older, albeit transmigrated by encorporation and copyright.

Helping little old ladies find the library book they're looking for always makes my day.