"This concept of 'wuv' confuses and infuriates us!"

Skipping readalong posts in my awesome readalong group (you really should join) is the worst, because not only do you keep optimistically thinking you'll finish the reading and be able to post, but you can't read OTHER people's posts because you're behind. And you can't blog about other things out of guilt (unless you're Tika). So here we are, Thursday and still no Grapes of Wrath post. What I WILL say about what I've read is that it's swell, but the government camp is absurdly idealized. ABSURDLY I SAY. 

So obviously I've been trying to read Grapes this week, and not a lot else has gone on other than Life Things (booooo). I watched the three aired episodes of Elementary, and get ON that, because Jonny Lee Miller and Lucy Liu and their hilarious dynamic. And don't be all stupid and say you're upset because they're copying Sherlock, for the shows are COMPLETELY different. And *cough* I might like Elementary better. 

I've been contemplating love this week, folks. Stupid, stupid love, in all its futility. Now normally, people who do this and say pseudo-deep, cynical things, like calling it "inefficient" (which I've been doing all week) annoy the hell out of me. But since it's now MY turn to do this, I am, of course, being forgiving.

Essentially: romantic love is dumb and almost never works, but since it triggers super-nice feelings in our brains, we keep trying for it. This is also aided by what we see in film, tv and books. Since this is a book blog, maybe we should check out some various bookish eras and how they dealt with love. 

Romantic: "Oh no, I'm in love with my sister/best friend's wife/unattainable person! I shall kill myself and save her the misery of my unwanted affections. OH that my presence ever came to be on this wretched earth!" (Romantics suck) 

Regency: "I think...maybe I like you a bit. Your income is how much?...hm, yes, I do believe I love you." 

Victorian: "Look, I liked you and you liked me, but you were raped by that guy and got pregnant, so you're a whore and now I don't like you." (fuck you, Thomas Hardy) Alternative Victorian: "You're such an ASSHOLE. Let's get married." 

Aesthetes: "Ha-hah, let's get married and use many puns."

Jazz Age: "WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME -- LOOK at all the nice shirts I have. Did you need something other than shirts? You know what I need? Booze. Also women suck." 

Current: *mostly in YA* "Oh, you like Random Obscure Band? You must have excellent taste in everything. And a PIERCING in an odd place, how grand. Can you also say clever things indicating a maturity beyond your years? Let us wed. Oh, but you died of cancer. Boo."



*goes into a corner and eats massive amounts of chocolate*