The Wildcat's Den

Just don't tell anyone ^_^

If I was in a pissy mood today, none of the following would seem very funny.  All the more reason to keep a good outlook on life.

Leaky reported today about another Harry Potter basher (Harold Bloom much?).  It's to be expected that these sorts of unwashed miscreants would be coming out of the woodwork in the aftermath of the announcement of the "Deathly Hallows" release date.

So, we're "infantile," hmm?  Oh, you're using big words... ack... your Ivy League pompous attitude... ow... your intellectual prowess... *shudder* your PhD in masculine bovine defecation, sphincter emphasis... slowly... losing... brain... cells... your overwhelming desire for me to give a flying leap has... no effect whatsoever.

Sheesh, they do this just so these professors bogged down in the swampy world of academia can get in on the product placement of Harry Potter and maybe some of these children who've read HP will put down their copies of "Alice Through the Looking Glass" and "Just So Stories" long enough to validate the existence of these critics' -- ahem -- "work"

Look, all you literary -- people -- out there: you stay on your side of the playground and the rest of us will keep our lively and carefree side.  You don't let us write fantasy in your literary fiction workshops and we in turn don't submit our academic analysis "Scribbulus" papers to "The New Yorker."  You guys get your daily mocha java and we will take out butterbeers and Bertie Bott's.  Excuse us for having a reason for living other than telling other critics and writers to "F-off", as happened in an e-mail from someone in my poetry class.

Okay, this is good: In my Advanced Poetry class, we e-mail our poems to each other every week so we can read them and have some feedback ready for the next workshop.  Well, some mental giant in the class decided to write an e-mail to a fellow classmate about his poem and let go a few (little Bobby and Janey need to keep their noses in "The Magician's Nephew" for this one) "F-bombs" and told him he didn't know what the hell he was talking about.  The problem is that this retard hit "Reply All" instead of just "Reply", so this e-mail ended up getting sent to the whole class, including the professor (I didn't actually get the e-mail, but another classmate showed it to me on her account and the "To" field had everybody's e-mail in it -- my copy must have hit my wonderful little "Idiot Filter").

The ironic thing is that I myself knew that people in this class don't know what the *blank* they're talking about, but I don't see the need to e-mail them about it.  I guess some people aren't secure enough in their talent to take criticism nicely.

Speaking of potholes in the human race, I also printed off the stories we're supposed to read and critique for next Tuesday's Advanced Fiction workshop.  Four stories: three included scenes of ritualistic animal sex, two had some mention of artistic groping, all four dropped the "F-bomb" and one had a KGB-type game show.  Artistic merit, indeed...

To be fair, the syllabus for this class did explicitly say that there will be no "passing judgment" on work that doesn't meet with our own values and standards, but since I can say with confidence that judgment will be passed on my distinctive pro-LDS-values story that I'm turning in on Tuesday, I feel no guilt in saying that these works of "art" are amoral and crude, not to mention indicative of very little thought and creativity (how creative do you have to be to put an explicit sex scene in literary fiction piece?  It's hardly worthy of the title without one *note intense sarcasm*).

All literary fictionists can do is bitch and moan about how they can't control their desires to bitch, moan, kill each other, rape, pillage, grope and complain that society looks down on them for it and how we should be sensitive to their issues and let them call it art (and daddy never hugged them).  Personally, I know that everyone was born in the era they were supposed to be born in and we all have a mission to fulfill in our time, but it's a little hard to come to terms with that doctrine when you're confronted with this kind of caveman behavior (oh crap, now I have another group mad at me ^_^)

Don't think that I'm just complaining about this, though.  I've been stuck without material for a good post for a few days now.  To have this sort and amount of treasure come my way is a blessing and I'm thoroughly enjoying laughing at all these idiots.  It makes it worth the tongue-chewing hours I spend listening to these weenies whine and think that I'm actually giving a flying hippogriff-turd (when in reality, I'm writing my own cheap, plot-driven novel that will surely fulfill my life more than they could honestly imagine).

I Love My Life.

Love from,
Jenny Wildcat