TV - Bedlam

I am a total sucker for ghost shows. I will watch any of them at least once. Maybe twice if nothing better is on. And I love British stuff. So a fictionalized account of actual deaths and ghosts in an historic British landmark is sort of exactly what I want out of life. Unfortunately, TV is created for the largest common denominator of any group, so my ghost shows get filled with quasi attractive, almost talented twenty-somethings, all of whom are at least half as interested in screwing as they are in dealing with the undead. Meanwhile, I go to sleep crying into my copy of The House on Haunted Hill and let the Erlkonig lull me to sleep.

The Premise

Bedlam Asylum has been closed for years after a scandal revealed the abuse of patients. The Asylum has been locked away for years, just sitting and taking up space, until the descendants of the last owner take over the property, creating a brighter future for the historic building by turning it into apartments.

(Raise your hand if you've heard a story like this before.)

The family patriarch is overseeing the remodeling, while his daughter and her friends live in one of the finished flats. In the premiere episode, we see him gifting his daughter with a ring which the crew pulled from the wall of the asylum.

(Raise your hand if you can taste the impending fail.)

In what will likely become a weekly formula, chaos ensues as skeptical people make elementary mistakes in the wake of an ghosts.

(Raise your hand if you want a Scooby Snack.)

And yet, I'm still watching.

The Characters

I am henceforth dubbing the cast as a whole Pretty-Prissy-People-With-Posh-Accents-And-Poltergeist-Problems until further notice. All individual characters will be given fake names until such a time as they warrant my giving a crap about them.

The main character, Sir Broods-A-Lot, broods frequently and is possibly even worse at deflecting questions about his ability to see ghosts than Melinda Gordon. Granted, he didn't have an awesomesauce grandmother to guide him through his powers (we don't think). Instead, he had an adopted family that thought he was crazy and an embarrassment, and eventually shipped him off to a nut house where he was pumped full of crazy-be-gone pills to try stop him from seeing all that ghost crap that made the family look bad. Unfortunately for them, the hospital gave him a clean bill of health, and decided he really didn't need any medicine since he wasn't crazy, and sent him on his merry, socially awkward but hot way. He still sees ghosts though, so the boy still has no credibility. The actor didn't have a lot to work with in the premiere; I can't quite tell if he actually acted the part of shy, reclusive, but goodhearted and earnest psychic, or if that's just what I read into the character. Anyway, he's kind of hot, so even if this show tanks, we'll probably see him again in some other BBC show - because God knows there are only ten actors in the whole of Britain.

Princess Snobby Slut is the cousin of Sir Broods-A-Lot, and she is snobbish and a bit of a slut. Don't believe me? Within the first ten minutes of the show, she seduces her male flatmate, knowing her other flatmate has a thing for him, mainly to prove that she can and to screw with the heads of all who know her. When Sir Broods-A-Lot bursts in during their foreplay to save her dumb butt from impending ghost-smiting, she is quite put out, and proceeds to make everything awkward for everybody. Forever. She does this again the following morning by completely dismissing the flatmate she'd been dry-humping only hours earlier. We learn through her other flatmate that this is rather typical behaviour from Princess Snobby Slut, and I am left wondering why I should care about her survival at all. Because I really, really don't. I can only hope that the writers have one hell of a character development arc planned out for her, otherwise I'm voting that she gets offed in the season finale. Of course in a series like this, there's a good chance they'd bring her character back as a ghostly adviser with a chronic case of stupid-bitchitis. Every genre has its' abused deus machinas.

Mr. Milktoast is the flatmate PSS seduced at the beginning of the show. Despite the kind of sleazy and assholish overtones his character was introduced with, I actual got to like him as the episode progressed. Suffering some kind of survivors guilt two years after the death of his brother, I can attribute his otherwise uncharacteristic interest in PSS as some part of his emotional trauma. Whether because he's still grieving or because he is supposed to be a nice guy, MM is the first character to really try get SBAL(look, typing out all these names gets hard after a few paragraphs) to talk about his ability and believe that he's not crazy. He and SBAL are going to be bros someday soon, I just know it.

Clueless Kitten is like Brittany Murphy's character in Clueless (you see what I did thar?). She's sweet, naive, totally out of her element, and everybody dumps on her because her spine is made of a single strand of candy floss. I'm really hoping she's just going to snap one day and stab PSS in the twat. Though given her proclivities as we see in later episodes, PSS might just be into that.

Finally, we have the dark, evasive, more than slightly menacing building owner who has taught his daughter, PSS, all she knows about being a snobbish slut. I really want to see more of him and his menacing hint dropping, but I fear that if BBC headed my wishes and made him a bigger character at this point in the show, he would lose his evil, pinch-faced, condescending charm.

Plot Devices and Other Points of Interest

Apparently, Sir Broods-A-Lot is notified of impending danger by supernatural text messages. I want to mock this, but one of my favorite shows involves an alien traveling through time and space in a police phone booth, so I really can't say anything. Judgement shall be withheld until further notice.

And where the heck does SBAL get his broody, psychic powers? That stuff doesn't just come out of nowhere - at least, it doesn't in GOOD fiction. While ep. 3 gave us part of the answer, there has to be more and revealing it all in season one would be disappointing. LEAVE US WANTING MORE, BBC! And was there an ulterior motive in SBAL's adoption? Given who it was orchestrated by, I would not be surprised at all.

Who the heck keeps warning SBAL about PSS? Why do they want her to live? I certainly don't.

On a related note, there are a group of messages SBAL keeps receiving that are frighteningly contradictory, as though there are two forces, one trying to get him to stay to help a female character, and the other telling him it's no use and to go away. This intrigues me and it should intrigue you too. It is one of the more potent foreshadowing tools and it keeps me coming back.

The last owner of the facility, when it was still an asylum, was removed from his position and was in the process of being brought to trial for rampant abuse of patients. However, he died before he could be tried. I smell a finale enemy.

To explain the growing paths of UST would require a wall and a few balls of multicolored yarn to map and explain. If we could just get some solidity on just ONE of these, I would be the happiest girl. But being confronted with all of them on top of the plot makes it very hard to explain to my brother when he asks me what's going on.

Final Thoughts

They have already tried my patience by killing a cat. But there are enough things going on that make me curious and keep me entertained that I'm going to continue watching until they either jump the ghost shark or kill another kitty.

Book Review: Black Bird

This cover should've been my first warning.

I've been seeing this manga, Black Bird by Kanoko Sakurakoji, advertised on the sidebars of a lot of webcomics I read. It was paired with Vampire Knight which I wholly acknowledge is junk, but is fairly well written and plot intensive junk filled with adorabe, emotionally scarred boys whose continued misery fills me with sadistic glee. But I digress.

This was not Vampire Knight by a long shot. It fills me with such annoyance and slight revulsion that I must share before I can forget it. Let's get this review over with.

There is a world of myth and magic that intersects ours, and only a special few can see it. Misao Harada is one such person, and she wants nothing to do with magical realms. She just wants to have a normal high school life and maybe get a boyfriend. All that changes one day when Misao is attacked by a demon. Her childhood friend Kyo suddenly returns to save her and tend to her cuts--with his tongue! It turns out Misao is the bride of prophecy, whose blood gives power to the demon clan who claims her. But most demons want to keep her power for themselves--by eating her! Now Misao is just trying to stay alive...and decide if she likes it when Kyo licks her wounds.

The Good: ...

The Bad: It's a Japanese version of Twilight, only with different clans of demons instead of vampires and werewolves/shape-shifters/whatever. Y'all know how I feel about Twilight, right?

Nooooo! It burns!

The Gory Details:

1. The main character, Misao, takes a page out of Bella Swan's book with the lack of personality, the waffling about what she wants, and oh yes - the klutziness. Misao is perpetually a victim, the prototypical damsel in distress in need of a strong man to save her. The only thing that makes her remarkable is the deus ex machina of her being the "Bride of Prophecy" which makes her the speshulist snowflake in all the land. Her tasty blood - peaches this time instead of freesia - inspires all the nearby monsters to want to rape and/or kill her. But lo! she's saved time and again by her childhood friend - who's also a demon - who would also like to sex her up and marry her for the good of his demon clan.

2. The love interest, Kyo, is domineering, controlling, bad tempered and manipulative. But he's loved Misao since they were children and he's just looking out for her best interests, so it's okay. Remind you of anyone? I will say that the author has departed from dear Edward's oh so neurotic character by making Kyo a complete pervert who tries to force himself on his true love at every opportunity, whether she's willing or not. Thus, Kyo is like pretty much every male character in popular shojo manga I've ever encountered: a perverted chauvinist asshat determined to sully the virginal heroine (but is really a nice guy underneath, though the closest we ever come to seeing it is his handsome brooding).

3. All this would bother me less if the story were actually good - or at least well presented. The characters are not compelling, utterly unsympathetic, and the story line is as original as bubbly pink haired cat girls. The scenes shift back and forth jarringly, and reading it, I was almost convinced at times that they were mixing up pages from entirely different chapters.

Conclusion: Look, I enjoy the occasional trashy romances as much as the next girl - my admitted love of Vampire Knight should attest to that, as those relationships are dysfunctional to a degree that would make Freud blush. But is it too much to ask that authors of all cultures present their unhealthy romances with some craft and charisma? Maybe a sprinkle of original ideas? Or at least stop ripping off Twilight so obviously? That's all I want from my book-fluff.

Rating: No mushrooms. None. The art might be good enough for 1/2 a mushroom, but I'm feeling unforgiving tonight.

The Enemy of All Romance,
Maria D.

ETA: On the bright side, should this manga is ever be turned into an anime, it'll make a most excellent AMV of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance."

Ethan Frome: Book Review

"Classic" literature is my bread and butter and on occasion my jar of Chivers bitter marmalade. And some YA lit has the power to add to this culinary tour de force by acting as the slice of sharp cheddar that, when added to the rest, helps me gain ten pounds in the course of a morning. Om nom nom books.

But even the classics can leave you with a bad case of diarrhea. Actually, a LOT of the classics can do that. My Darling My Hamburger, anyone? But I digress and cut short my food and gastro-intestinal comparisons. For now.

I've heard wonderful things about Edith Wharton ever since I could read. During my epic move this summer, when half the family library was relocated to my room, I suddenly discovered that, lo' and behold, I owned an Edith Wharton novel: Ethan Frome. I jumped, eager for some early twentieth-century writing I'd never seen before.

I- I tried to get through this book, you guys. I tried so hard.

The Good: Everything wonderful you may hear about Edith Wharton's writing is true. Her style is what got me as far through Ethan Frome as I did. It's beautiful, eloquent, and stands strong with her male contemporaries.

The Bad: But the story ran into the fundamental problem that I can't stand any narrative set in New England and related areas that doesn't include eldritch gods, the vengeful dead, and/or other Lovecraftian horrors that strike well-deserved terror into the cold, suspicious, puritanical hearts of New Englanders.

The Rest: If you like John Updike stories but want better writing set a little earlier in time, this may be the book for you. I, for one, will be looking for other Edith Wharton writings that don't make me cringe. As it stands, I have to grade Ethan Frome on two different levels.

The Writing: 5 Mushrooms

The Story: 2 Mushrooms

NYT Failed Interview Fails

We interrupt this irregularly scheduled blog to bring you a review of this monstrosity: Mona Simpson Quietly Embraces Art

(Go ahead, read that first. All of it. I'll wait.)

(Done? Awesome.)

What the HELL is this, New York Times? Okay, I don't read you often and this may be the standard of writing you publish. But if that's so, then my complaints are the least of what you deserve if you consider that pseudo-intellectual garbage worthy of publication.

The purpose of all mass communication is to inform, entertain, and/or persuade. Can anyone tell me which, if any, purpose the article above serves? This type of writing is what every journalism, creative writing, and ANY English class I've ever taken has taught me to avoid. And seeing an example of it, I have to agree; this is terrible writing.

From an informative perspective, I learn that this woman, Mona Simpson, is an author and has a new book coming out. Normally, I'd expect this article to include somewhere details about this authors body of work, what the new book is about and when it's coming out. But The New York Times is too avante garde to include any of that useless twaddle in such specific terms. We do learn a bit about her upcoming novel, but it's lost in a lecture about the Matisse exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art. Instead, I learn that she currently lives in the uncultured, illiterate slums of California and misses that paragon of civilization known as the Upper West Side. She's divorced, Steve Jobs' well-connected sister, hates Starbucks, and her teenage son won't read her books. In essence, I've read the most prosaic Wikipedia page in existence. Any useful information is lost in a maelstrom of gossipy, irrelevant factoids.

As far as entertainment goes, it failed there as well. It proposes to be a Day-In-the-Life type piece (I assume. It's listed in the fashion section. I suppose it could be a piece detailing how to be a fashionable writer? Martinis, snobbery, and famous siblings are the keys to success?) but it's unfocused and tangential and I'm left disliking an author who, based on this interview, is so condescending and elitist that I'm devoid of any desire to read her books.

From a persuasive angle, how am I to be persuaded? Should I go see the Matisse exhibit?

Fashionably Yours,
Maria D

What Are You Reading 4/5

It's Monday! Time to implement my schedule, starting with What Are You Reading, a meme hosted by One Person's Journey and which I found out about and filched from Emma. (I am the epitome of original.)

This week I've been reading a couple of things. First, since I'm coming out of spring break, I've been reading Vacations from Hell, an anthology of horrific vacation tales, written by five young adult authors. Libba Bray, Cassandra Clare, Maureen Johnson, Claudia Gray, and Sarah Mylnowski.

So far, I've only read two of the 5 stories all the way through; Maureen Johnson's Law of Suspects and Libba Bray's Nowhere is safe.

These stories show what a mixed bag anthologies can be quality wise, and also the differences in writing that can appear when comparing an authors short stories to their longer works.

Maureen Johnson: Law of Suspects

Personally, this story left me feeling room temperature. It was an excellent premise in my opinion; trapped in the French country side, the victim of a cursed story, with no clue who the murderer will be. The idea of it excited me then and now. It's one of those stories which I think someone else could flesh out into a full novel. But I digress. Overall, I liked the idea. Execution, however....

I like Maureen Johnson's voice. Devilish is one of my favorite YA books, and I recommend The Bermudez Triangle to everyone. But it's a voice that doesn't always work in every situation. It fell a little flat in this one. Whenever I was getting involved in the suspense, something, a throwaway sentence or just the phrasing of the narrators thoughts, would rear up and drag me back out, and I'd hope she died. Maybe this wouldn't have bothered me as much if the story were longer and I had more time to get used to the main character. Also, do make outs have to be in EVERY short story? Are they really THAT necessary? Or am I just not feeling the love? Discuss.

I really liked the ending though. Overall, good bones of a story. Needs a hell of a lot of elbow grease to make it as awesome as it could and should be.*

Moving on the Libba Bray.

Libba Bray: Nowhere is Safe

This was the first story I read, even though it's at the end of the book. This story had a lot of modern day Poe and Lovecraft feeling to it. She even named the main character after Mr. Poe (a giant plus in my book). Basic premise is that four friends from high school go backpacking across Europe the summer before they start college. However, when the group moves off the beaten tourist track, they find themselves involved in the centuries-old practices of a town on the brink of destruction.


Yes, it's a plot you've probably seen a dozen times on SyFy channel, but Libba Bray pulls it off with a lot of class and genuine fear. The dynamic of the relationships between friends, watching them shift and deteriorate as the situation gets more extreme, is fascinating and powers the story nearly as much the plot. Also, I loved reading about a male protagonist, and a multi-ethnic one to boot (YA authors, more of this please). The romantic drama was appropriate; mentioned often enough to establish it, but not so often we want to hit Poe for not making his move.

The twist at the end, when we discover the villains, is a little predictable but not in a way that hurts the story. The ending itself is mostly satisfying in how it ties things up, but makes me want to hear more about Poe and his adventures.

My biggest complaint was the writing itself. It's not bad by any means, but I love Libba Bray and am used to the shining, sterling quality of The Gemma Doyle Trilogy and now Going Bovine. In Nowhere is Safe, you can tell that it was rushed, especially when paired with her longer works.

This gets to the roulette aspect of anthologies. It's hard to tell what you're getting. Even if you know and like the authors whose works are included, there's no guarantee that they'll hold up quality wise to other stories you've read by them. Some authors excel at short stories while other need 400 pages to really make it work and express themselves completely. And it's hard to know whether an author will fall into one category or another until you read both types of writing.

I just started Cassandra Clare's story. When I get around to finishing all the stories, hopefully I'll sit down and write a full review.

The other book I started reading this week is A History of Violence by John Wagner, illustrated by Vince Locke. More on this later in the week. Until tomorrow.

Planning your untimely demise,
Maria D.

*MJ, if you ever find this blog and read this post, I still love you long time. Promise.

Romance: I Read It

A year or two ago, I was one of those women who looked askance at romance novels. That wasn't real literature. But then, brain fried from studying for finals, I found myself wandering the aisles of my college library and stumbled upon a rack of donated novels. Among them were some Nora Roberts books. They were cute and funny and I didn't have to think too hard. It was what I needed when I needed it; literary fluff.

Since then, I've explored other romance novels by other authors. Some of them are absolutely terrible: perfect examples of why people say they rot your brain. But others have become some of my favorite books, not just because the romance aspect makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Many of them have well thought out plots, interesting characters, and often include insightful commentary on society and people's places within it.

And let's not forget that some of what we consider great literature are romances. Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, Ivan Turgenev and countless others wrote fantastic, life changing books which are, to a great degree, romances.

The danger of romance novels, i.e., stupidity and narrow-mindedness, is a danger inherent to all genres provided one genre is the only thing someone reads. People who only read war novels or science fiction exclusively are mocked for that self-same narrow-mindedness. The 'danger' attributed to romance novels is because it revolves around gender. Even the best romance novels I've read seem to fall prey to gender stereotypes, or fall into ruts of one partner saving the other from themselves, their past, or a contrived outside situation. Book by book, this can be okay. But when almost every book a person reads follows those patterns and reinforces those ideas in readers without a break or contrasting point of view, then the dreaded brain rot rears its' ugly head.

But a little romance is a good thing. It can be a nice break from other thought provoking reads. Of course, we love those best, but even the most intellectual persons head gets heavy after a while. Romance can be the equivalent to television in its ability to help us decompress from life, only we still get to read and there are no commercials.

So if you're like I was, someone who looks down on romance novels, get over yourself and give them a chance. You might surprise yourself and find some really enjoyable and well written books. And if you're one of those people who never reads anything BUT romance and harlequin, put down the friggin' Gail Dalton and read some Gaiman or Wilde or Dumas. And drop the Nicholas Sparks; he doesn't count either way.

Variety is the Spice of Life,
Maria D

Book Review: Spirit

Returning to the feelings of 'meh' induced by Wicked: Witch and Curse, I begin my review of Spirit by J. P. Hightman.*

Spirit tells the story of teenage ghost hunters and husband and wife duo, Tobias and Tess, on their way to investigate claims of the paranormal in Salem Massachusetts in the Victorian Era.

Things which endeared me to this book:

• Ghost Hunters- this is an immediate selling point for me on almost any book. It's incredibly difficult to go wrong with ghost hunters in your narrative. Possible, but difficult.
• Romance- fine, I'll admit it. I like a little romance. My cold, robot heart is not immune to the warm fuzzies and Tess and Tobias had some morbidly sweet moments.
• Same First Initial- Okay, this is just a weird thing about Maria brought on by my peculiar upbringing. I like it when pairs have the same first name. Matching initials are cute to me. My brother and I are both M's, my parents were R's, my cousins are R's and C's respectively, some of my favorite couples in anime (both cannon and non cannon) share first initials. It's just a thing about me. Ahem. Moving on.
• Salem Witch Trials- While writing about the Salem Witch Trials is NOT an automatic 'Pass Go' story wise, it is a rich source of literary potential. I can think of a lot of dumb books that used the trials as a stepping stool, but I can think of a lot of good books that used them too. In short, it caught my interest.
• Paranormal- Yeah, I'm a sucker, but I've found many an awesome book based solely on my interest in its being paranormal.
  
• Cover- the cover looks cool, doesn't it?

This book is one of the reasons I do NOT adhere to the "If it's good three chapters in, it's going to be a good book" rule or any stupid rule like it. Up until the fourth chapter, I was really involved in this story. Then, something fizzled out of it. The spark seemed to go out of the writing and the characters. The plot seemed to be drawing towards a cliche and I just couldn't take it when it had started out so good.

Even so, it wasn't a bad book. I flipped to the end since the middle was starting to bore me (bad reader, I know. Sue me) and was surprised by where it landed. I have Spirit on my list of books to reread. I'm not sure if it's the book that was really bad, or if I was just reading it at a bad time, or what. Overall, the book left me a little cold and mostly unimpressed. But there were enough elements that to interest me that I really want to give this one another shot. I'm kind of hoping that I was chemically nuts at the time of reading and that I'll appreciate it better if I'm in a saner state of mind. Now we just have to wait for the stars to align for me to get to that saner state. Stay tuned for further developments. Breath holding is optional.

My Rating: a tentative 3 out of 5 mushrooms



Undecidedly yours,
-Maria D.

*This was a library book. I didn't buy it. I didn't receive an ARC. I'm poor and no one likes me enough to send me free stuff. Except for Emma. HAI EMU!

College Events: The Harrowing

This morning, I took Aurora Delacroix to In the Heights at the Hippodrome in Baltimore. My school was offering steeply discounted tickets for students to the show. As you know, I happen to be a student and Aurora happened to really want to see this show.

Problem 1: Events involved with CCBC invariably skirt disaster and catastrophe. If they say a bus to an event will leave at 8, it will really leave at 9 (as was the case for the leadership retreat I went to in January and which I said I'd blog about but didn't oh well, kthxbai.). Knowing this, Aurora and I said no when Lisa at the Office of Student Life asked if we'd be taking the bus.

Lisa handed us our tickets and we turned to go - until she said: "These are just 'reservation tickets.' The teacher will have the real tickets and you'll get them from her at the theater."

O-kay. THIS would end well.

I wake up this morning at six, after a harrowing night of Stolen Cat trying to burrow a hole in my chest - so that she can be closer to my warm, loving, tasty heart, you see - and nightmares of not getting into the show because I didn't fill out the schools health form (oh, but when I dream about necromancy and cannibalism, I sleep deep and easy. My head is a fucked up place to be sometimes. And I DID print out and fill out the health forms...which they never bothered to collect. Right. Whatever.).

Aurora and I get to the Hippodrome around 9. We are entirely too excited since neither of us have ever been to the Hippodrome before (though supposedly my Pop-pop danced there in the vaudeville shows a million years ago) and we were there to see a Broadway show about Latinos. Who doesn't like to see their ethnicity win Tony Awards?

But when we get there, we're met by another CCBC student who chose to drive themselves and arrived early. She's in an argument with some of the Hippodrome staff. She's trying to get in with the reservation ticket, and they don't know anything about the college coming in a group, and they're beginning to think CCBC is selling scalp tickets to students or something.

Let me just say that I love CCBC. It has some great teachers and upper admin really cares about the students. But the line of communication is of such a great degree of fail that offices, departments, and students alike pretty regularly take advantage of the school and everyone involved. In short, I could totally believe that Student Life would sell forged tickets to students and pocket the proceeds. Harsh, but true.

I manage to diffuse the situation with Aurora's help. These are reservation tickets, the teacher will exchange them for real tickets whenever he/she gets here, didn't take bus, no clue when they're getting here, look I don't make the rules, that's just what they told me, is that a Starbucks over there, okay we'll just wait. The nice staff at the theater then validated my own thoughts that this was a really stupid and needlessly complicated plan. Why couldn't someone from the school just call and tell them to expect the reservation tickets and set aside real ones at Will Call for when people showed up? That way, no one has to sit outside in the seat-free box office and wait for the teacher and the bus. I don't know. I just go to school there.

Aurora and I plopped at the Starbucks on the corner for more coffee and second breakfast (1st cherry danish, 2nd cheese and fruit) and I watched for the appearance of a CCBC bus. No such bus appeared, but we eventually gave up and walked back across the street to see if SOMETHING could be arranged so I hadn't wasted $75.

Amid a throng of private high school students in plaid short skirts and knee socks, we forced our way to a door and asked if any CCBC students were there. The staff was great and understanding and worked very hard to make some sense of the mess. At that moment, however, I finally saw one of the teachers from the leadership retreat in January. SHE HAD TICKETS. Doors opened, choirs of angels sang, the head seraph played a bitchin' guitar solo.

Not really. But I DID get orchestra seats to my new favorite musical. More on that later...maybe...if I feel like it.

Maria from the Barrio

Fucking Movies Ruining My Narrative Flow

This'll be uncharacteristically brief because it is late and I am lazy. I could probably make a much longer post out of what I'm about to say but, again, the lazy.

I fucking hate the Matrix trilogy.

Are we good? Are we clear? Excellent.

If human kind degenerates to angry, arrogant, assholes, I vote that the machines should win. I mean, what is the fucking point if everyone in charge is less animated than the machines?

I could say more, but I won't cuz have I mentioned I'm lazy?

Chose the OTHER Pill,
Maria D.