In grade 12, my English final was to analyze 10 different text examples of metaphors used in On the Road by Jack Kerouac which we had read earlier in the semester.
I couldn't get through it, so instead I turned in a 2-page essay basically ranting about how vapid and stupid the book is, how there's just endless repetition of the characters driving around, finding some heroin and food, fucking, and then driving around again, and how it was hard to even know where you were because nothing interesting ever changed or happened.
Pretty sure one of the lines was "They're just driving and fucking, fucking and driving across the desert trying to get high, forever and ever."
I don't remember my whole essay, or the stupid book much anymore. I just remember my teacher gave me an A+ even though I didn't remotely do the assignment. She was cool.
Absolutely. Might as well write a book about jacking off and playing Halo, describing weeks of this in detail.
Johnny and I were splayed out on either side of the hot leather couch, sipping red Mountain Dew and boarding the Truth and Reconciliation. John was at 2 bars after the hunters almost killed him, and I was still holding onto the almost empty sniper rifle because we knew there was an ammo pickup later in the level. "Pass the bowl, man" he said. I obliged, leaning over and handing him the bowl as two invisible elites opened doors on either side of us. They killed off all the marines so Johnny paused and hit load from last checkpoint. For some reason it put us back out of the ship, right before the last hunter fight on the gravity lift.
That's right. Hedonism is fun to do, but when you put it on a pedestal under a spotlight you see its limitations. There's no glory, truth, or justice in it. No community, no future. It's like masturbation - enjoyable in private, but no one will praise you for it.
In grade 12, my English final was to analyze 10 different text examples of metaphors used in On the Road by Jack Kerouac which we had read earlier in the semester.
I couldn't get through it, so instead I turned in a 2-page essay basically ranting about how vapid and stupid the book is, how there's just endless repetition of the characters driving around, finding some heroin and food, fucking, and then driving around again, and how it was hard to even know where you were because nothing interesting ever changed or happened.
Pretty sure one of the lines was "They're just driving and fucking, fucking and driving across the desert trying to get high, forever and ever."
I don't remember my whole essay, or the stupid book much anymore. I just remember my teacher gave me an A+ even though I didn't remotely do the assignment. She was cool.
Idk that kinda sounds like a good time. Maybe not the most interesting topic for a book I guess.
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Absolutely. Might as well write a book about jacking off and playing Halo, describing weeks of this in detail.
Johnny and I were splayed out on either side of the hot leather couch, sipping red Mountain Dew and boarding the Truth and Reconciliation. John was at 2 bars after the hunters almost killed him, and I was still holding onto the almost empty sniper rifle because we knew there was an ammo pickup later in the level. "Pass the bowl, man" he said. I obliged, leaning over and handing him the bowl as two invisible elites opened doors on either side of us. They killed off all the marines so Johnny paused and hit load from last checkpoint. For some reason it put us back out of the ship, right before the last hunter fight on the gravity lift.
That's right. Hedonism is fun to do, but when you put it on a pedestal under a spotlight you see its limitations. There's no glory, truth, or justice in it. No community, no future. It's like masturbation - enjoyable in private, but no one will praise you for it.