Life Reaper

The old, wrinkled face lay on the pillow, a stark contrast to the white, starched linen of the hospital pillow. “She does look peaceful” Kim thought, even though she was almost afraid to touch her Gran Gran. The face looked like the skin was made from a paper thin coating of a mixture of porcelain and parchment. She has also been developing severe bruises from the merest touch as of late and Kim wanted nothing less than to hurt her Gran Gran. “Way too peaceful to be afraid of that Devil Apparition of hers.” It is not often a 16 year old even has a great grandmother these days, much less one that she spends so much time with. Continue reading

Go ahead, Punk, read my blog!

Big, black bars at the top and bottom of a TV screen mean that a movie is ultra brutal and only for grown-ups. At least, this is what my little child brain somehow convinced itself was the case. Back when TV sets still had an aspect ratio of 4:3, and there still were TV sets, the wider a movie’s aspect ratio was in the cinema, the bigger the black bars had to be to fit the picture on the TV screen without losing picture information. Continue reading

Dial H for Thriller

I watched a shapely blonde undress down to her too-large-for-today underwear and fell in love with an old, fat, ps3British dude.

I do not remember how old I was when I first watched Psycho, I only know I was in my teens and probably not mature enough in my tastes to be able to appreciate it on all its levels. But luckily for me, my tastes still knew what they liked and what they did not. Me being forced to peep on Marion Crane like Norman Bates later would, found itself among the former. The story continued to unfold and I was hooked until the very end and Norman’s skull-like grin. I would say “no small feat for a decades old black-and-white movie” but my unsophisticated tasted were diverse and old-fashioned even back then. Continue reading

Finally Feeling Franz

I think I finally understand Kafka. I first encountered him, like so many others, in school, something that does not really make any sense when you stop to think about it. Show me a 14 year old who can appreciate the trials of Josef K in The Trial and I show you a 14 year old who has worse problems than getting their literary canon in order. It is old, it is stuffy, and teenagers, as a rule, cannot identify with Josef K. They do not get how much they should be able to, with their pubertary experiences and the fact that they cannot really talk to any figure of authority to help them with their predicaments. They usually are way too pragmatic and dismissive about it. “That’s, like, sooo stupid. Why doesn’t he just, like, go see the judge or something.” They do not get why K cannot just, like, go to a judge or something. The social behaviours expected of a person and how difficult, if not downright impossible it is for people to break them. Who is to say whether it is the less rigid social norms and structures, the fact that culture nowadays usually focuses more on the individual that the group, Kafka’s story dealing with a big, faceless, inhuman bureaucracy instead of everyday life, or simply that teenagers are incredibly self-absorbed and always have been. Continue reading