I’ve been (attempting to, and mostly successful at) sleeping polyphasicly for the past month and a half or so. As a result, I find myself awake at hours such as this one, with too much time on my hands. But that’s a good thing at this time since I’m (supposed to be) studying for my exams.
Thankfully, I only have one left; as opposed to the five I had last week. And as much as I enjoyed some of it, I can’t say that I’m especially sad to see those classes and their readings come to an end. In fact, I’m very glad to see the end of my having to read some of the (post?) modern fiction – CoughRaymondCarverCough – that one class in particular required.
Don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate what authors of that sort are doing. But I don’t have to like it, do I? Give me something like Jerome’s Three Men in a Boat, or Wodehouse’s Damsel in Distress, or Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest or even, in a more recent vein, Willis’s To Say Nothing of the Dog.
I suppose there’s some deep psychological reason why all the books I mentioned are decidedly British in nature and more specifically, in some way or another, a comedy of manners.
Perhaps I’m a pretentious bastard? But I’m not going to venture a guess at it.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned at least some of those books before. But, oh well. They’re that great.
Also, Christmas might be coming early this year. From Relevant:
That’s fantastic. If you’ve never seen Arrested Development, find a way to do so. Without a doubt, the funniest show on television.
And that’s all for now. Cheers.