TNG is like. the NPR of star trek series. like it has the same vibe as a very polite but occasionally wild block of public radio programming i can’t explain it. also the sheer number of classical music concerts that happen in it
shoutout to all my pals with a degenerative disability who just want to lay down and cry but have to get their shit done anyway. it’s really fucking hard and i’m so sorry we have to put our mourning on hold like this.
shoutout to all my pals with a degenerative disability who can’t get their shit done, too. i know it’s frustrating as hell, but we don’t have to be strong all the time. it’s okay to just be.
It’s one of those things I never expected to have, one of those things I’ve only read about in the novels I’ve studied as part of the whole damn system that’s pissing me off so much. It’s a generation disillusionment – I am part of a lost generation, and I am being told it’s my fault.
My fault! When I work my ass off for four years, when I get myself into tens of thousands of pounds in debt, just to have a piece of paper at the end of it that says I am smart because apparently my passion for the arts and my wealth of life experiences don’t mean shit, aren’t “employable”.
My fault, when the job market is so saturated from desperate people trying to work off a debt sentence because the economy is beyond help and people are pumping more money towards football players and celebrities rather than doctors and teachers, and regardless of degrees we’re all begging to sweep the god damn floor at McDonald’s just so we can make rent.
My fault. When students are living below the poverty line, surviving on the same amount of money a day as a person in a third world country, while all around us the voluntarily unemployed, the irresponsible and the lazy all cash in benefits amounted to more than what we’d earn in a year and still the newspapers scream that students are the disgusting beggars of the nation.
My fucking fault when I spend a lifetime being told to learn this, obey that, being told to fall in line and be obedient without question, being taught the single correct interpretation of a book, the single correct way to solve a math problem, the single correct way to reach the only acceptable conclusion because “that’s how it is in the real world” – well I’m in the real world now, and that’s bullshit, because employers want individuality, innovation, experience, original thinking, and school punished me for demonstrating all of these things.
It’s my fault – my entire generation’s fault – because our elders can’t face up to the fact that their system is flawed and failing and broken, and they did this, they sowed the seeds of this destruction and now we’re expected to fix it.
Fuck them.
I will love passionately and learn freely and create beautifully without restraint and when I am called out for it I will answer with the question that’s been on my lips for years.
“Ticking the right boxes? Jumping through the right hoops? Yeah, how’s that been working out for society?”
We were programmed into robots and there is a bug in the code. (via angrynerdyblogger)
an incomplete list of unsettling short stories I read in textbooks
the scarlet ibis
marigolds
the diamond necklace
the monkey’s paw
the open boat
the lady and the tiger
the minister’s black veil
an occurrence at owl creek bridge
a rose for emily
(I found that one by googling “short story corpse in the house,” first result)
the cask of amontillado
the yellow wallpaper
the most dangerous game
a good man is hard to find
some are well-known, some obscure, some I enjoy as an adult, all made me uncomfortable between the ages of 11-15
add your own weird shit, I wanna be literary and disturbed
The Tell-Tale Heart, The Gift of the Magi, The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calavaras County, Thank You Ma’am
the box social by james reaney. i remember we all had to silently read it in class, and you would hear the moment everyone reached the Part because some people would audibly go “what”
wHat did I just put my eyes on
“The Veldt” by Ray Bradbury
Not quite a short story, but read in class: “The Monsters are Due on Maple Street” from The Twilight Zone
Harrison Bergeron, Cat and the Coffee Drinkers
“Where are you going and where have you been” by Joyce carol oates
“The Pedestrian” by Ray Bradbury
the lottery by shirley jackson
i can’t believe Roald Dahl’s “The Landlady” wasn’t already mentioned
and also it’s not so much unsettling as more absurdist but “The Leader” by Eugene Ionesco definitely made me go wtf
Ett halvt ark papper. I cried so much.
Ночь у мазара, А. Шалимов
A Sound of Thunder by Ray Bradbury
I Have no Mouth, and I Must Scream by Harlan Ellison
The Lottery by Shirley Jackson
All Summer in a Day by Ray Bradbury
Some of Us Had Been Threatening Our Friend Colby, by Donald Barthelme
I read Ray Bradbury’s “All Summer In A Day” in seventh grade (it wasn’t assigned, I was just going through my textbook for new stuff to read) and as a bullied kid with SAD, it Fucked Me Up.
An Ordinary Day with Peanuts, by Shirley Jackson
Eh, this was more like community college, but The Star by Arthur C. Clarke
Lamb to the Slaughter by Roald Dahl
and this story that I can’t remember the name of and can’t find, though it might be by O. Henry? it’s about a bunch of demons who want to stop Santa Claus from going through with Christmas, and he must travel through the mountains they inhabit to escape their vices? (good christ I can’t remember the name for the life of me)
Ok but the laughing man and a good day for bananafish but j.d. Salinger
The City (195) Ray Bradbury. An intense commentary on colonialism and space exploration. I read it for a sci fi survey class.
Another short story I read in that sci fi class was Vaster than Empires and More Slow (1971) by Ursula K. Le Guin. A commentary on humanity and how human we believe ourselves to be. Also, an interesting commentary on mental health.
In the Woods Beneath the Cherry Blossoms in Full Bloom, written in 1947 by Ango Sakaguchi. It made my skin crawl the first time I read it.
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Plot Designing 