The Mezunian

Die Positivität ist das Opium des Volkes, aber der Spott ist das Opium der Verrückten

Sickly White ( con el mismo viejo ojo perezoso fijado para acostar en usted apunta libre y inverdadero ) [ DU HAST MICH MIT WEIßEN KNÖCHELN DURCHGEZOGEN ]

Sickly white

is the sky

‘hind the tree,

naked

from Christmas death.

Sickly white

is the yogurt

that chokes —

literally, I almost died.

Don’t laugh guys.

¿Is it my vice

for trying to spice it

with autumn apple crust,

producing only dust?

Sickly white

is my pale skin

preoccupied

by the germs o’ winter wind,

after the sickly mellow yellow

o’ bellowing violent vomit

from seasons passed on.

Sickly white,

I stare @ thee in sleepless analgia.

¿Why do I hold you with such nostalgia?

It already feels like January…

<A fruitful month,

sheltered from

the distracting sunlight>.

No.

January is dead to me.

<The dead is dead to you,

so let it be>.

Anyway, it already feels like spring:

stung by the sun,

a weak gasp o’ gusts

surrounds rose fever

o’ toxic coughs

that no drops can cool.

For in this heaven-white bed

a world turns,

half in shivers & half in burns.

Achoo.

Posted in Uncategorized

Let’s Code a Crappy 2D Platformer Like Millions o’ Other People on the Internet & Lose Interest & Give Up Only a Few Months In, Part X

& now I have a video for “Bough Down”:

I spruced up the graphics, including finally drawing the rope, giving the Pufferbees animation, & adding dark firs in the background. I wanted to do the last 1 to make the background feel a li’l less empty; but now I worry that the graphics may look too crowded, making things hard to see.

Also, I added the fir background to “Wasabi Woods”:

Posted in Uncategorized

Let’s Code a Crappy 2D Platformer Like Millions o’ Other People on the Internet & Lose Interest & Give Up Only a Few Months In, Part IV

It’s been so long (a couple days) that I forgot what I’d accomplished last time I wrote.

Block Types

’Stead o’ relying on dumb enums, block types now have 2 corresponding lists: “components” & “conditions”—numerous simple pieces that can be combined into complex block behavior. Components affect what the block does, the corresponding conditions affect what must be true for that affect to happen. Take, for instance, a heart block, which 1, heals, & 2, disappears, both on the 2 conditions that they are touched & touched by the hero sprite. Contrast this with a heart block, which is, 1, solid, & 2, heals; but whereas the 1st action happens simply by being touched, the latter only happens ’pon colliding with it from the bottom.

This allows me to reuse simple behavior oft used in different ways—touching a block, solidity, hitting it from below, disappearing ’pon 1 use—without having to copy & paste too much.

Also, as the “Wasabi Woods” screenshot shows, I added a “priority” flag to graphics, which specify which parts o’ blocks should be drawn o’er the player. This is done simply by drawing blocks onto the screen before & after sprites, drawing those without the priority flag 1st & those with it on afterward.

Level-Select Screen

Level names are gotten from some dumb function in the Level class that spits out a string given a certain level ID (which matches the ID that one goes to ’pon selecting a string) based on a super dumb switch statement. Sorry.

’Course, the reason I’d want a level-select screen is that I’ve added 3 mo’ “levels.” I put that word in quotation marks, since none o’ them are truly finished. Technically they’re all beatable, but only Wasabi Woods is a serious level—& e’en it’s missing sprites. It’s probably next to be finished. Meanwhile, “Skyscraper Caper” is halfway done, & “Soupy Sewers” isn’t e’en a real level, but a way I planned to test vertical scrolling for backgrounds, which I haven’t e’en gotten to yet—in fact, that level, ironically, is the only 1 without a background image.

Look @ that amazing cut-off. This’ll ne’er be accepted @ SMW Central.

Speaking o’ which…

Background Images

As “Wasabi Woods,” shows, multiple background images can be layered. They automatically tile horizontally & can have parallax scrolling o’ multiple speed levels, which “Wasabi Woods” uses for its 2 backgrounds. This was a pain, as I kept getting the math wrong; but after failing to sleep on Christmas Eve night, I was struck by inspiration. Unfortunately, I can’t actually remember what the math flaw was.

Here’s the code:


void Background::render( Graphics& graphics, Camera& camera )
{
	if ( texture_ >= 0 && texture_ < Graphics::SpriteSheet::LIMIT )
	{
		int sl = offset_x_ + ( (int)( camera.x() * scroll_speed_x_ ) % width_ );
		int dl = 0;
		int right = std::min( width_ - sl, camera.widthPixels() );
		int far_right = 0;

		SDL_Rect dest = { dl, 0, right, camera.heightPixels() };
		SDL_Rect source = { sl, 0, right, camera.heightPixels() };

		graphics.renderObject( texture_, source, dest );

		while ( far_right < camera.widthPixels() )
		{
			far_right += right;
			dl += right;
			right = std::min( width_, camera.widthPixels() - dl );

			dest = { dl, 0, right, camera.heightPixels() };
			source = { 0, 0, right, camera.heightPixels() };

			graphics.renderObject( texture_, source, dest );
		}

	}
};

The vital issue is the difference ’tween the source & destination, & how these 2 differences affect how things are drawn. The destination determines where the graphic is drawn, the source from where in the graphical file. Thus, we start by looking for how the left size o’ the source, “sx” here, should change. We know for a fact that we want the background to span from the far left side to the far right side, regardless o’ where one is in the level; the question is what part o’ the image is on that far left side. You’ll notice that the 2 right variables have no mention o’ source & destination; & as you’ll notice below, it’s ’cause they both turn out to have the same right values, which is either the end o’ the graphical file (the width o’ the graphical file – where we started, sx), or the end o’ the level width (the width o’ the screen – where we’re starting, which in this case is 0, thus making it just the width o’ the screen), depending on which is smaller. There’s no reason to go past the width o’ the screen, & to draw a wider destination than source width will stretch the graphic, which is hideous. If we hit the latter, then we can stop, since there’s no mo’ that needs to be drawn; but if we hit the former, then we go through this while procedure till we finally do, saving our building right variable in the “far_right”1 variable, while placing the right variable o’ the previous cycle as the current left—logically, we start out where we left off. Obviously we’re drawing just after where we’d drawn before, since we’re building the illusion o’ a continuous backdrop; meanwhile, we always start our source now @ 0; as mentioned, we stop @ either the end o’ the source, @ which point we want to restart @ 0, or we stop @ the end o’ the screen, @ which point we quit. Meanwhile, we get our new right based on the same as before,—either the end o’ the source or the end o’ the screen, depending on which is smaller—& continue the cycle till the far right = the screen width2, @ which point we’ve reached the end o’ the screen.

When I was 1st figuring this out, I drew a graph to help see this—though now it’s probably e’en mo’ incomprehensible than the word vomit I spewed earlier.

@ the top you’ll see my plans for sprite collision detection, & to the left, the edge o’ some dumb haiku.

I still haven’t finished doing this vertically. Hopefully, that won’t be too complicated to add: should just be a copy o’ the horizontal version, just used with y & height variables & an extra loop layer.

Funds

A funds total, which shows on the level-select screen & is increased by whatever money you have ’pon beating a level.

Speaking o’ funds, they’ve been changed from just “gems” in the inventory to ₧, which fits better with Boskeopolis’s world & fits better with the video-game parody aspect o’ that world’s currency, & each regular gem gives 100, with a brighter & darker gem added, which give 250 & 500, respectively (thanks to the new block component system, I only had to change a # plugged into the component added to each block). Using these, I revamped the 1st level, increasing the money requirement to 10,000 (I also added an auto-comma function for #s converted into text, which is used in the message that appears in front o’ the 1st level, regardless o’ how one changes the funds requirement).

I also added a nifty li’l detail wherein the ₧ counter in the inventory spins up ’pon gaining ₧, rather than automatically jumping up to its new value, using a technique from Super Mario 64 that this video shows off, wherein one separates the actual funds # & the funds shown on the inventory screen, & have the game check every frame if the funds shown is less than actual funds & have it increase by a small # if so. The 1 difference is that my game doesn’t have the glitches & o’ersights Super Mario 64 does, ’cause I focus mo’ on that anal shit mo’ than actually making mo’ than 1 complete level.

Scrolling Marquee

This is the kind o’ useless trinket that keeps me from making real levels. Now, in every level, @ the bottom o’ the UI scrolls random strings o’ text. They’re inspired by the news tickers in SimCity 30003. In fact, the message ’bout Kitty Kibble shortages was taken straight out o’ SimCity 3000.

Clock

One can also see that there’s a clock added to the level UI, which counts up in most levels, ending @ 9:59 (which no player should e’er reach, considering how small these levels will be). While this clock is useless in most levels, in “Skyscraper Caper” it counts down & causes the player to fail if it reaches 0.

A Hydrant Enemy

¡Finally the 1st enemy! This enemy disguises itself as 1 o’ the hydrant blocks you’ve probably seen in other screenshots, only to blink ’wake when the player gets close to it & starts bouncing toward the player, hurting her ’pon touch, ’course.

This is the place where the problems o’ components came ’bout: namely, that any data specific to specific components (such as the Hydrant movement component) can’t be used by other parts, such as the graphics component or other sprite movement components (such as the player’s) ’pon interaction, ’cause the nature o’ the polymorphism that the generic sprite’s ownership o’ these components makes it so that these other things can’t be guaranteed to get a Hydrant component, simply some child o’ the abstract “MovementComponent” pointer.

This is a big deal ’cause the Hydrant sprite has 2 forms: @ 1st, when it’s indistinguishable from a hydrant, & when it’s ’wake & dangerous. To ensure that the enemy only hurts the player when it’s ’wakened, I had to put the damage code in its movement component, which wasn’t too bad; but I can’t get the player to interact with it like a block, ’cause that relies on code in the collision object output by the collision function that runs automatically by interaction in the player’s interaction code, which is different from the enemy’s. I actually tried this with the collision object in the enemy’s interaction function, only for the player to strangely get sucked into the enemy, till I finally realized the vital difference ’tween the player’s collision with the enemy & the enemy’s collision with the player, & how this affects the overlap values. Also, I had to put the hydrant’s graphics code in its movement code, since its graphics also react to its wakening, which makes its graphics component do nothing but decide what graphic file it uses—which could already be done in the constructor o’ the parent SpriteGraphics class, meaning that the HydrantGraphics class is redundant & that the only reason I haven’t replaced it with a regular SpriteGraphics object is that I can’t be bothered & I feel I may want the HydrantGraphics class for later.

Some Dumb Message Box

It e’en comes with automatic line-changing, as seen, though it doesn’t come with any nifty auto-hyphening or any other way to keep words from awkwardly splaying out halfway onto the next line. There are apparently ways to do that, as some SNES RPGs used that kind o’ technology, but it sounds too complicated to bother with now—’specially when this message box has only been used once so far. Maybe when I’ve completed like 5 levels a’least.

(Note: Hilariously, I only just noticed while looking @ the screenshot I took that the message block dips down into the UI. Oops.)

The Future

I mainly want to work on levels & sprites now. Hopefully, I’ll finish “Wasabi Woods” & “Skyscraper Caper” soon. The problem is, most o’ the cool ideas I have require a lot o’ extra coding. For instance, for the “Skyscraper Caper” level I actually wanted have ’nother character, controlled by AI, running through the level, & the idea was that you had to beat her to the end (touching her would probably hurt you). However, I don’t think I have the capabilities to do the kind o’ sophisticated AI that could make ’nother player move through this level full o’ holes without falling off & make it look like natural gameplay.

2 other level ideas that should be mo’ manageable are a level wherein the player has to avoid being seen by guards & a level covered in gold, where touching any o’ the gold causes the player to fail. This latter level will probably be near the end, since it’ll probably be relatively hard.

Download this mo’ interesting but messy source code.

Posted in Boskeopolis Land, Programming, Uncategorized

Lemme Drunkenly Rant @ You ‘Bout the Conclusions & Intros

Someone left the cake out in the rain.
I don’t think that I can take it,
‘Cause it took so long to bake it;
& I’ll ne’er have that recipe ‘gain—¡oh, no!

-Jimmy Webb

‘Pon reading many o’ my nonfiction work, one would see that I rarely write conclusions, & rarely write introductions, too. This is due to my literal-mindedness causing me to write precisely what I want to say: my “intro” is the beginning o’ what I want to say, & the end is simply the end.

This contrasts the usual intros & conclusions, which: 1, repeat what is already said in the heart o’ the article, where the info truly belongs, insulting readers’ intelligences by assuming they have the memory o’ a 1950s computer; 2, spew rhetorical cliches like irrelevant quotes or stories.

But the worst problem with conclusions is that they represent a perniciously common intellectual failure, identified by their name: they focus on conclusions. Indeed, people—westerners, a’least—focus too much on conclusions, which are the weakest aspect o’ an argument. It’s the reasoning ‘hind the conclusions that should be focused on, for they are the key to the conclusions in the 1st place.

What conclusions do is they enable a bad habit: glazing o’er reasoning so one can snatch the conclusions quickly & then spew it to others like the plague without understanding the why ‘hind the conclusion, much less whether the conclusion is truly correct.

Thus, rather than conclusions improving the understanding o’ those too lazy to read the body, they make them mo’ ignorant o’ their lack o’ understanding. ¿What’s better, that one can’t comprehend an article & knows one can’t understand it, or that one can’t understand an article, but can understand the conclusion, & thus is fooled into thinking one understands it when one truly doesn’t?

So in conclusion, conclusions are superfluous. They obnoxiously repeat content that you’ve already read & help people ignore the reason for believing the conclusion. & as Lord Crocomire says, “That’s the news you can choose.”

Posted in Uncategorized

There Are No Perks to The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Since I’ve been doing this fiction-writing thing for mo’ than 5 years1, I’d been thinking o’ writing literary reviews, but actually haven’t found that many books I’ve read that I truly thought much ’bout. I try to read round 50 books a year, but I usually think o’ it as grinding I have to do to get better @ writing, rather than anything I feel passionately ’bout.

The exception is, ‘course, a book I felt very annoyed by, & therefore will be the 1st for me to rant ’bout.

Case in point: our protagonist & narrator. He’s a goody-goody shy nerd who buddies up with the raddest kids e’er, who all screw round doing deep shit, yo. 1 memorable scene was when they’re in some car, & 1 o’ the characters spreads her arms & says that she feels “invincible.” Said character is the sister o’ his other friend, whom he develops a crush on, not ’cause o’ her personality, but ’cause o’ her appearance—that’s the only reason he e’er gave for his infatuation. But this is a particularly creepy & hypocritical puritan form o’ infatuation: 1 wherein he praises her for not being like those other skanky hoes, ¡but has no problem with later feeling up her tits! Near after he 1st meets these 2, he tells her ’bout this dream he has wherein he imagines her naked, ’cause it’s cute when men tell women such creepy-ass shit; ‘stead o’ running, as any rational person would, she laughs & tells him no as one would talk to a 4-year-ol’.

Our protagonist also has a teacher who thinks he’s special & calls him the smartest student o’ his e’er2. This is despite our protagonist’s writing being worse than the writing I did when I was his age.3 I don’t think this is ’cause Chbosky is developmentally challenged, but ’cause he’s trying to be, since he’s an arrogant adult with—probably—average literary skills, & tries to stimulate high school diction by dumbing his writing down, based on the assumption that high schoolers are much dumber than they truly are. Also, you know, the protagonist hardly e’er does any writing, other than these journal entries, & some simplistic book reports that’d get him an F in my high school language arts classes (they don’t just let you ramble ’bout your opinions, you know; they usually have rather strict rules in regards to organization, using citations, & analyzing aspects such as theme & authorial intent & how the style, structure, & plot o’ the work fits such). It’s the same reactionary moral that many airheaded American works give: amazing skills aren’t honed from years o’ consistent practice, aided by having favorable conditions for said practice, but by just being born special (¡’cause hooray for biological determination!). I want to emphasize that word ’cause Chbosky clearly wants to emphasize how special our protagonist is, as a shallow way o’ emotionally exploiting the kind o’ narcissistic nerds who are clearly this book’s target audience to think they’re special, too.

See, 1 o’ this book’s main moral is that you just gotta go out there & do it, man, & stand up for yourself & not let other people step all o’er you. This is both typical & ironic coming from an American: Americans don’t need to be taught to think ’bout themselves & how great they are; they need to be taught to think ’bout someone other than themselves for once. Such morals also might be mo’ valuable if they weren’t regurgitated from the mounds o’ self-help books already infesting bookstores & libraries.

These morals are so bad, they’re contradicted within the very same book. See, this moral ’bout standing up for yourself comes from that female friend o’ his I mentioned earlier, after she snaps @ him for not trying to make the moves on her. In a rare case o’ sanity from our protagonist, he rightfully points out that she told him to back off, & he rationally complied. Now, earlier in this book the author made it quite clear that you’re s’posed to think that when a woman tells a man, “no,” it means “no.” There’s a point ’bout a rapist who didn’t take this advice & was demonized for it, & ‘nother point when the protagonist’s father, who is clearly meant to be a voice o’ reason, says this outright (Chbosky has ne’er heard o’ subtlety, by the way). But here, the female friend, who is also shown as a voice o’ reason here, says the opposite: when she said “no,” that was apparently s’posed to mean “yes,” a’least when you’re a cuddly nice-guy nerd, & not 1 o’ those jerk jocks, ¿amirite? What a great moral to give to the nice-guy nerds that are clearly your target audience, Chbosky.

Part o’ her big speech also involves complaining @ our protagonist for not going out there & doing stuff, getting out o’ his shell, & such, but this makes no sense. Our protagonist spends the vast majority o’ his time doing the same shit they’re doing. I mean, I would agree that screwing round & doing drugs—or worse, acting like trite, obnoxious shits @ screenings o’ Rocky Horror Picture Show—probably isn’t a wise use o’ your time; perhaps he could, if he truly wanted to be a writer, maybe practice writing. Perhaps he could read books that weren’t just assigned to him, or read some grammar books, maybe a dictionary or something. Maybe practice mo’ writing than this li’l stuff he does in the book…

Anyway, I don’t think that’s what Chbosky’s trying to say: I think he’s trying to give ‘nother typical American moral: “introverts, who are totally awesome, by the way, need to stop being their filthy selves & socialize.” Clearly the screwing round & drug use is meant to be a positive example o’ what “living” is, since… I don’t know, that just fits in with the mindless American hive mind’s traditions, & it’s the only thing that almost makes sense in this context. The problem with that, though, is that there’s no indication that our protagonist actually is introverted @ all. Quite the opposite: in 1 scene, when his friends have to do something ‘way from him, he goes crazy from friend withdrawal & bugs his sister & her boyfriend. That’s the opposite o’ an introvert. See, the thing ’bout truly asocial people is, they don’t like being round people. They truly find it enjoyable to be ‘lone, with private time. That’s probably ’cause they have this thing called “intelligence” & “creativity” & thus don’t need other people to be their personal jesters. Inane extraverts like Chbosky don’t get this ’cause they don’t understand introverts, are too narcissistic to understand that some people might be different from them, & ’cause they don’t actually respect introverts, anyway, they just want to exploit them ’cause they’re too asocial to speak for themselves publicly, & therefore a weak class, & ’cause they’re hip due to that weakness.

Actually, that I think could be the core problem with this book: it tries to build itself up as this very caring book, but it’s shallow, & it’s clear that Chbosky cares mo’ ’bout making himself look profound & caring, without actually putting the effort into doing so. This isn’t true writing, from an author’s heart & unique creativity; it’s a cynical marketing ploy—the kind that probably started as 1 o’ those inane elevator speeches before being written.

Also, having a secret backstory wherein the protagonist was sexually molested by his aunt is both the most cliché desperate grab for critic praise & forced into the plot for no relevance. It could’ve been cut out, & the story would’ve been just fine. So could all the stupid bullshit he did with his dumbass friends, like that trite bullshit with the Rocky Horror Picture Show shit.

O, god, or what ’bout that fucking hacky conversation ’bout Kurt Cobain. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the exact wording,—actually, fuck that, I’m immensely satisfied with that outcome—but it went something like this:

[Some jerkoff] said ’twas grown ups, man; [other jerkoff] said ’twas corporate media.

[The absolute biggest waste o’ flesh on the planet] said he was hungry.

Fucking hilarious.

Man, I just realized how utterly unlikeable all the characters were. What a triumph.


The Reviews

‘Cause I’m mean-spirited, I’m also going to bash some o’ the idiots online who actually thought this tripe was good.

Our 1st example is the 1 that inspired this in the 1st place, someone with the misspelled name “Wandergurl,” which I think is a character from My Immortal, on stupidly-named Book Thingo, which “earns commissions through affiliate links and Skimlinks. So if you buy a book using a link from [their] site,” you got god damn played, sucker.

Anyway, you can already tell this review if inane by its headline: “This book needs a hug.”

Then in the 1st paragraph we can see that this reviewer didn’t actually read the book, or wasn’t paying attention: she claims that the protagonist’s writing “is filled with raw emotion,” when I remember it being Chbosky’s clumsy & offensive attempt to pretend to know how an autistic writes, with the classic technique o’ having the character describe sensitive events like a 4-year-ol’ medical scientist.

O, fuck, wait, ¿what? Look @ what comes right after—right after—that quote I just put in: “in what I imagine to be Charlie’s matter-of-fact, possibly even slightly monotone—but always honest—passive voice.” Yes, that’s right: monotone, passive raw emotion. This book needs a hug, & this reviewer needs a fucking dictionary.

At first, Charlie doesn’t have any friends.

This lasts for less than 20 pages. Boo fucking hoo.

He is a little weird—even weirder than the cool kind of weird[.]

Um, I’d like to see some mathematical formula so we can deductively prove that this weirdness level has gone beyond the threshold o’ “cool” weird. Noah Smith would not be happy by such sloppy economics.

He makes friends with two seniors, Patrick and Sam, and begins to experience life, sometimes without really trying.

By the way, I can feel the raw emotions in these sentences written by a person who just figured out how to write sentences yesterday.

“And begins to experience life.” Fun fact: Charlie was born just before he met these 2 seniors. That’s why he had such trouble making friends; nothing’s mo’ uncooly weird than a newborn baby in high school.

I first heard of this book when it was released and kept meaning to read it, not realising, ten years later, that I would be determined to read it because they’ve made it into a movie!

Either this reviewer didn’t realize they would do something 10 years later based on events she couldn’t predict, or she wasn’t realizing that she was doing something 10 years later as she was doing it; but either way, ’twas quite amazing ‘nough to merit that exclamation point.

I thought it would be a typical coming of age book…

Surprisingly, ’twas worse.

[A]nd I expected to be caught up and be able to relate to the story, because who hasn’t felt like a wallflower sometimes—on the outside looking in? It was a lot more than I expected.

I can tell by the way you’re so excited that you couldn’t e’en stop to break your review into coherent sentences.

For one thing, it’s actually quite a serious book.

The fact that you e’en have to say that proves elsewise. Nobody says something like, “The truth is that Toni Morrison’s Beloved is quite a serious book,” ’cause anyone who needs to be told that’s too stupid to know how to read.

There are serious undertones beyond just the typical teenage drama of boys, clothes, girls, football and prom.

Yeah, it talks ’bout important things, like Rocky Horror Picture Show & what the characters’ favorite books & movies are. (¡Charlie’s is This Side of Paradise, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, which is super serious, guys!)

The book touches themes of abuse…

(Laughs.) Worst diction e’er.

I question whether everything bad really had to have happened to everyone in this book, but at the same time, it’s not unrealistic[.]

Yeah, it’s not unrealistic for real life to be like a badly-written book.

[S]hit does happen.

Best summary o’ this book.

The reviewer then babbles on ’bout the 90s & other bullshit.

It took me a while to read this book[.]

This book is short & extremely simplistic. It took me a day to read—& I’m a damn slow reader. Now I’m seriously wondering if I’m an e’en bigger asshole than I thought & whether this might be a middle schooler writing this.

Charlie can get a bit depressive, but he pulls through and you find yourself barracking for him, especially at the end when he figures things out.

“I didn’t actually read this book: but I’m sure this sad character has [insert conflicts], but [does something to not be killed by them] & then [like, figures something out, I guess].

I spent most of this book just wanting to give him a hug.

Stop touching the imaginary character’s abuse, please.

Author Stephen Chbosky fills the book with pithy observations, the most famous (and my favorite) being, ‘We accept the love we think we deserve.’

I’m glad I forgot that 1, since it’s as inane as the others. It’s borderline tautological, & @ the very least meaningless, since one doesn’t have much control o’er either (a’least I like to think that I think I deserve things based on what seems to be objective reality, & don’t magically consciously trick my own mind into thinking I deserve something simply ’cause I want to—rendering the whole idea o’ “deserve” nugatory). Man, think how easy psychological issues would be to solve if people didn’t have them. & while we’re @ it, ¿why don’t idiots like Chbosky just stop being dumb? ¿Can that be my pithy quote? “Dumb people are just people who haven’t learned that they’re dumb yet.” That definitely belongs on a mug.

It spits you out, a little tired and worse for wear, but somehow I feel like I’ve been made better by it.

Well, I’m glad that you’ve been made so much better off by my being spit out & made all tired by this shit. Way to rub it in.

Its raw honesty makes it truly one of the best [YOU CAN BUY PHANTASIA SCHLOCK BY ANNIE MELANINE & GET IT TODAY WITH A FREE TRIAL O’ AMAZON PRIME] books I’ve ever read.

Thank you, Adbot3031 for your wonderful review.


Next review:

Charlie’s a master of observation. Much like with the essays he writes about literary classics, he constantly tries to discern meaning in the events and people around him.

The fact that you think his literary essays showed his ability @ discerning meaning is ample evidence for why you’re a “professional cat pamperer” & not a literary major, “Kate” Nosurname McGee.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower reminded me of coming-of-age classics like The Catcher in the Rye…

…in that they’re both shitty & both have protagonists who were utter wastes o’ oxygen.

[…] and, to a lesser extent, The Bell Jar[…]

A li’l too much actual thought put into that 1. Plus, it’s likely that protagonist isn’t a waste o’ oxygen anymo’—ha, ha… ugh… I’m sorry…

Something I wasn’t expecting from this book was the focus on women and how girls develop as a result of society. This theme is present throughout the story, and particularly demonstrates how girls – young, old, popular, activist – are taught to define their value based on the opinion of men and whether or not they’re seen as attractive.

Kinda like how Sam is pretty much just the generically cute girl that our protagonist lusts after, with hardly any development (¡but a’least he gets some undershirt action, ¿amiri—? Wait…). Also Mary Elizabeth is just that yappy bitch who needs to learn to shut her trap.

Yeah, Chbosky’s an amazing feminist.


You can find a bunch o’ 1 paragraph clumps o’ incoherent reviewing @ AMAZON.COM, WHERE YOU CAN ALSO BUY MUCH BETTER BOOKS, LIKE 13 REASONS WHY, WHICH IS ‘BOUT A CHARACTER WITH AN ACTUAL PERSONALITY & WASN’T A WASTE O’ OXYGEN, E’EN BEFORE BEING DEAD.


The Guardian shows their power to bullshit:

The writing here is so rhythmic that it’s almost hypnotic.

Chbosky’s approach is always unflinching[.]

¿What? ¿You’re not going to make some trite metaphor ’bout this book being “savored” like a fucking stew? ¿You’re not going to talk ’bout how this book “reaches inside of you and pulls everything to the surface,” like 1 o’ those paragraphs WHICH YOU CAN FIND @ AMAZON.COM? Which is just proof that if any o’ those people e’er learn what a paragraph break is, they’ll be qualified to write reviews for The Guardian.

I also love how this idiot complains ’bout this book being sexist ’cause it had a male gay character, but not all the immensely sexist shit I mentioned earlier. This fucker didn’t e’en read this book.


Holy shit, fuck everything I wrote here: This Tumblr post summarized everything I had to say ’bout this book in just a couple, succinct paragraphs. It’s like the Euler’s Identity o’ Perks reviews.


Last Words ’bout the Film

1. The guy who plays the protagonist looks like a smug douche.

2. That Chbosky is a film director isn’t surprising, since The Perks of Being a Wallflower has that shallow stench o’ Hollywood.


Footnotes:

[1] I’m just as late in publishing those as I am with these editorials, & I just as much neglect to publish them. As an example, I started writing Boskeopolis Stories, which I started publishing July 2013, December 2011.

[2] Said teacher also gives inspirational inanity, in the form o’ a quote from a book by Ayn Rand, the go-to philosopher for profound-sounding phrases without substance. Said quote is some bullshit ’bout “I’ll die for you, but not live my life for you.”

[3] I heard some reviewers complain ’bout the protagonist using some big words, but I felt the opposite ’bout his diction. This is not an average high schooler, but purportedly a literary genius. ¿Have they ne’er met pretentious high school nerds? We’d use thesauruses just so we could use big words like “abnegate” & “cognomen.” I think it’s mo’ that the writing isn’t sufficiently far from their current writing level, & arrogant adults forget how li’l the average adult’s writing abilities develop from high school (I can hardly tell the difference ‘tween web writing made by high schoolers & the average “adult”).

Posted in Literature Commentary, Uncategorized

Problogger Is a Website that Focuses Mo’ on Commercial Factors than Intelligence- or Creativity-Based Factors, o’ which I Am Not Particularly Fond OR Problogger Fucking Blows

I’ve oft risked mental deterioration—e’en mo’ than what has already transpired—while perusing these money-grubbing hacks’ simplistic top-14 lists, but Problogger.net‘s so shitty it almost crashed my browser with its artery-clogging ads—the equivalent o’ having a trash can dumped onto your face. I know they’re the McDonalds o’ writing, but do they have to give my computer a heart attack as badly?

For god’s sake, they actually have a link in the top bar called «Make Money.» One with a smidgen o’ self-awareness would’ve realized that such lofty promises o’ riches are a stock joke.

Which made me realize: these websites are the modern form o’ those after-midnight infomercials. You know the 1s: with their tacky production values & lecherous ol’ men gripping tightly to their books in all-caps like drunken millennials1—«MAKE MONEY WHILE SCRATCHING YOUR ARMPITS.»

The web design certainly fits. Let’s gander @ all o’ the «business website» tropes seen in a million websites already:

1. Ugly bar @ top pestering me to join their newsletter.

Problogger‘s isn’t so bad, however, ’cause it disappears inexplicably after a while—so much so that it took me a while to make it reappear, to the point that I almost thought I only imagined it.

O wait, now I see: it’s s’posed to change, but that other stuff hadn’t loaded yet.

2. Ads to themselves—nobody else wants to waste money on their crap—that stay on-screen no matter how you scroll.

These are like telemarketers who breathe into your ear, «You can’t ‘scape from me darling»; & as hot as that is, rather than making them just stay in the same place using basic CSS, they for some reason added this delayed screeching animation like Wile E. Coyote.

O, & sometimes it doesn’t work, ’cause Problogger‘s scripting just sucks that much.

3. Content that’s inane or obvious.

Not only does this article have a title that screams, «¡We have all o’ the answers!» like a cult, their answer is simply «stuff that people want is what they want most.»

This article gives immensely rare advice, such as «be original,» «use storyboards,» & «understand how money works, dumbshit,» for planning.

4. Their style & diction makes me want to tear my eyeballs out.

Let’s face it.

Faking emphasis.

Through over use o’.

Rare breaches o’.

Proper writing style.

Doesn’t work.

When this rare tatic.

Is overused.

Any questions?

Yeah, ¿do you expect me to answer you through my monitor? Otherwise, ¿why would you be asking me a question?

¡If you have any questions, post a comment!

To be fair, «Let’s get hacking,» is honest.

They also use buzzwords like «effective» that Dilbert’s been making fun o’ since the last few decades.

5. They take ideas from that hack Goins.

This brilliant idea involves manufacturing a «struggle»; make oneself an artificial Cesar Chavez, but ‘stead o’ the goal being to help fruit-picking workers not have to use said fruit as their toilet, make the goal ’bout oneself getting as much money as possible. An honest person would call this «emotional manipulation»: tricking dopes into loving you even though you only love their money. This is, indeed, an effective trick, though 1 that doesn’t need the silly euphemism o’ «fight.»

6. They praise not doing anything as the key to success.

I never understand how this fits with the optimistic tone: success isn’t based on how much work you put in, but that you think & look as some hive mind wants. Where I come from, this is called an Orwellian nightmare. ¡No thanks! Silly ol’ me would rather succeed by working hard & still maintaining a shred o’ individuality, thanks.

7. They created this eldritch nightmare o’ English, the apex o’ cottonswabbery.

Please don’t make me discuss it.


Footnotes:

1 Just ’cause I’m in their age group doesn’t mean I’m 1 o’ them, ¿you hear me?

¿How can you hear me through this article? ¡Stop that wizardry, now!

Posted in Uncategorized, Web Design, Yuppy Tripe