Let all laws be agreed.

From now on, or at least today, Wednesday is "You know what I hate?" day.


So to start things off:

You know what I hate?


English majors.

I know what you're thinking.
"Aren't you an English major?"

Yes, I am. But why do you think I put it off for 3 years?

Because they suck.

They are unbearably pretentious and the only form of life more useless that Communication majors and the only ones more annoying than Art majors.

They all think (and by "all" I am excluding myself) they're going to write the next great novel.

But what they fail to remember is that most people who become famous for art related issues only become famous after they're dead.

Picasso.
William Shakespeare.
(he was, admittedly, popular in his day, but that was because he wrote plays people wanted to see, he wrote what was "hot." It wasn't until much past his time that he was honored and respected for creating "art.")

There are more, obviously, but I would rather keep ranting than come up with legitimate examples.

And I have more to say about English majors, but I'm planning on combining it with my next topic, so hang in there.



You know what I hate?


European Arthouse Films

They are obnoxiously pretentious (which is now my word of the day

They're all "Oh I'm a brilliant filmmaker who speaks a language other than English. I can be obscure and perplex my audience with questionable subtleties and long sections of footage that have no meaning and are of nothing but scenery and in no way advance the plot so that when it's acclaimed by people who have no idea what's going on, and by American English and Film majors who's heads would explode if they even considered calling one of my films crap, I can just sit back with a smile and call it "symbolism" and get a universal "Ahh" and a pat on the back."

No.

You're not brilliant.

You're just a jackass who thinks that saying nothing means something.


All of you, authors and film makers:

NOT EVERYTHING HAS SYMBOLISM!!!!!!!!

In "Of Mice and Men," Lenny and Carl (or whatever their names are) are not intentionally standing by water because Jungian psychology says water represents the subconscious mind.

It might be really convenient that it worked out that way. But I'm sure it certainly wasn't planned.

Sometimes people are writing just to write. To share an idea that they have lurking in their minds because it means so much to them they want other people to see it.

That's why I do it.

And frankly, just like with this blog, just because no reads it doesn't mean I'll stop.

I could write books that people consider the worst ever written and they could be unpopular besides. It would make me sad that people felt that way. But if I was proud of them and happy with how they turned out, I would be satisfied just knowing I got them finished.

You people need to learn to be less concerned with how you're saying something and just say it and have it be honest.


And you'd think I'd be happy to end on that positive note.

But I have a few more things to say, so even though I'm feeling better now, I'm going back to my angry place to rant some more.


You know what I hate?

People who dye their hair black except for some white or blond spots/streaks/locks, etc.

You look like a fucking skunk.

We should make these people get their hair done in specific patterns so we can use their heads to identify the different species.

I also hate women who smoke while pregnant, and especially those who justify it by saying they cut back.

And I hate people who insist that one kind of cigarette is better for you than another.

I hate people who, knowing the schedule is exactly the same every week, don't come in for their shifts (I say this because I'm covering for someone right now).

I hate that I'm not graduating this year.

I hate that I have to graduate next year.

I hate that I don't know how I'm going to afford to go to school next semester.

I hate that I've let my grades slide so far that I can't get financial aid.

I hate that this might mean my parents were right.

I hate that despite that I like being at college, I hate college classes.

I hate that this too might mean my parents were right.

I hate when people want to meet me based on my personality and a picture that has nothing to do with how I actually look.

I hate that that makes me feel guilty.

I hate that I might never finish all the novels I've started.

I hate that I don't know where and for what I'm going to graduate school but that I know I should go.

I hate that going means borrowing more money.

I hate that I might only be going to hold off real life.

I hate that this has or will take me over two hours to write.

I hate you, but only sometimes.

I hate me, but only sometimes.

I hate that I hate so many things.

I hate that I hate so much.

I hate that I don't feel like listing all the things I love (maybe tomorrow).

But I think what I hate most of all, just a little bit more than how things will turn out, is how things have turned out.