"You bear the name and the lineage that we desire."

There's something moderately amusing about getting banned off ... that LJ book ratings com I can't be bothered to post here. It's in Mir's journal.

Edit2: liritar made me look it up. It's thebookyoucrew. Point and laugh in good health. And then, please, quickly find something else to do with your time.

First of all. Ratings communities? Big circle jerk. That's it.

No, seriously. Constructive criticism is one thing, but is there any point to a ratings community that exists solely to label you with a one through ten label? Or, simpler than that, to give you a 'yes you're cool enough to hang with our special group' 'no you suck go away'? What the hell is this, the eight year olds playground? I don't need to validate my existance, my preferences, or my hobbies to anyone else as being worthy of time and effort, and I sincerely hope you don't either, dear reader.

So you get a ratings community together. You find a number of people of like mind, which is all well and good, that's what the internet is there for among other things. And yet somehow instead of sitting around and happily discussing the things that you like, as sane and intelligent people with even slightly healthier self-esteems than those self-important, prevaricating, saprophitic fucks, somehow you wind up deciding that you and you alone were given the power to decide What Is Hot Or Not. Mmm. Of course. Yes. I bow down before your awesome power and the mighty Coolstick.

Only not. Because I have a healthy ego and ... that's just mindless. Not to mention those communities over time tend to develop a very sheeplike atmosphere. Have you noticed? The ones who shout the loudest set the tone, and the ones who joined in the first place who don't agree quietly fade into the background or raise their voices in the cult-like mantra so that they aren't kicked out of their little boys and girls' club. I was not made for that sport. I do not go 'Baa.'

Oh well. I posted my top 20 list, mostly because most of the books I enjoy reading are fiction (seriously, folks, I don't read Foucault for pleasure, I don't know many people who do) and because most of them are pretty obscure. And now I will sit back and watch as they bypass all of that and head straight to Stephen King. And go "eeeew!" as though they just discovered a puddle of vomit on their section of playground. I only hope one of them is stupid enough to challenge and ask why I picked that book. Go on. I dare you.

Edit: I pout! I whinge! No arguments on Stephen King, only a sophist's argument as to why I had the mind of a child because a third or so of the list involved children's books! Ignoring completely, it seemed, the rest of the list which didn't. I figured it was a good cross section of my tastes which, evidently, are not to their approval. Ah well. I give them a moment's pause of my time and about five to ten minutes worth of thought and replying to people's comments, and then I move on.

*moment of thought and mock-weeping for not being accepted*

Now. We've done Blake and Coleridge, who will be next...

"Do not try and bend the spoon."

I wonder if maybe that's where the truth lies in the Matrix movie. Not so much the 'there is no spoon' bit but the 'quit trying to do impossible things, you moron' bit. Hmm.

My hair is Snapely, my nose will not stop running or sneezing, a bird must have crapped in the bottom of my mouth. This is a sure sign that I need a shower. And yet, I think I want to actually wake up a little, first.

Today on tap. Work on the first three chapters of the novel, which finally has a title, go me. OH CRAP. Hotel interview. *headdesk* I do need to shower. I'll shower in an hour or so. Okay, hotel interview, then novel, and can you tell I just woke up? Scatterbrained, me, much? Never. And then perhaps I shall paint, although I think painting will be reserved for tomorrow. Gods. Is it only Tuesday? It is. And yet it's almost September. Why am I so tired...

There was more to this entry, but I have indeed forgotten. Oh well.