What's your favourite /lit/ pasta? For me, it's:>be notorious class clown in high school, one time diving across a teacher's desk like a slip-and-slide and knocking over everything on his desk.>night classes, classmates single parents and former military who work during the day, razor thin tolerance for bullshit>read Infinite Jest the summer before college. unironically believed it was the pinnacle of literature despite only reading high school literature prior to it.>English Literature, The American Experience class>female "instructor", AKA Ph.D student>I bring up Infinite Jest in literally every single discussion, even if it has nothing to do with it>instructor tells me how Infinite Jest is a contemporary work that might be forgotten in the next 10 years, not worthy of comparison to the classics, and beyond the scope of this class>actual animosity builds between instructor and i>sometimes in the middle of discussion while she's talking, i'll take my copy of Infinite Jest out of my backpack and loudly smack it onto my desk, making the entire class jump and look at me. This caused the professor to KNOW I'm about to ask a question relating her monologue to Infinite Jest, and you can feel her shifting her monologue mid-sentence to steer away from as much possible Infinite Jest-related things as she could. That simple smack was a real mind fuck. The rest of the class was glaring at me.>one day I did this and a former US Marine sitting next to me literally grabbed my copy of Infinite Jest and threw it out the window. We were on like the 4th floor and it was raining outside.>the class applauded loudly>then SMACK! i had another copy of Infinite Jest in my backpack. I was SO proud of this, and trying so hard to hold back my shit-eating grin but I couldn't contain it. I looked beyond autistic.>"Get out!" the instructor yelled. Thinking everyone would laugh, I was scared at her response, and the Marine took my backpack and book and placed it in the hallway and held the door for me to leave>i ended up dropping the class
>>23619506If you are alluding to Dostoevsky’s worst novels, then, indeed, I dislike intensely The Brothers Karamazov and the ghastly Crime and Punishment rigamarole. No, I do not object to soul-searching and self-revelation, but in those books the soul, and the sins, and the sentimentality, and the journalese, hardly warrant the tedious and muddled search. Dostoyevsky’s lack of taste, his monotonous dealings with persons suffering with pre-Freudian complexes, the way he has of wallowing in the tragic misadventures of human dignity – all this is difficult to admire. I do not like this trick his characters have of ”sinning their way to Jesus” or, as a Russian author, Ivan Bunin, put it more bluntly, ”spilling Jesus all over the place." Crime and Punishment’s plot did not seem as incredibly banal in 1866 when the book was written as it does now when noble prostitutes are apt to be received a little cynically by experienced readers. Dostoyevsky never really got over the influence which the European mystery novel and the sentimental novel made upon him. The sentimental influence implied that kind of conflict he liked—placing virtuous people in pathetic situations and then extracting from these situations the last ounce of pathos. Non-Russian readers do not realize two things: that not all Russians love Dostoevsky as much as Americans do, and that most of those Russians who do, venerate him as a mystic and not as an artist. He was a prophet, a claptrap journalist and a slapdash comedian. I admit that some of his scenes, some of his tremendous farcical rows are extraordinarily amusing. But his sensitive murderers and soulful prostitutes are not to be endured for one moment—by this reader anyway. Dostoyevsky seems to have been chosen by the destiny of Russian letters to become Russia’s greatest playwright, but he took the wrong turning and wrote novels.
>>23619506>the virgin copy pasta>the chad screencap
>>23619506Shrek is love. Shrek is life.
>>23619506
bump
