Exquisite Prose despite an Excitable Nose

When I sit with my laptop to type these posts, I usually have no content in mind. Other times, I do have an idea in mind. These two different types of post can be split into two categories: Good, and Completely Batshit Crazy Bad. So today, I thought I'd make a confession.

I'm a page-huffer.

Yes, I love the smell of pages. Books, magazines, comics, it doesn't matter. I like the tactile feel, the wonderful look and the luxurious smell.

Okay, so it's kinda weird. But I'm like that a lot. My sense of smell is oddly high up in the hierarchy of my senses; one of the things I most notice about my copy of Batman: Year One is that, despite being second hand, still smells of the wonderful and exquisite ink used to create it. In fact, at this very moment, I am wafting the smell by flipping the pages.


Anyway, moving on. I've been considering, alongside my partner in crime George, to start collecting the books in the Cthulhu mythos. As a fan of literature and a hopefully soon-to-start-budding writer, I feel the need; nay, the urge to amass a collection of books by the greatest of the great. I have already, tentatively, begun with George R.R. Martin and his A Song of Ice and Fire series of high fantasy cinderblocks (I have often said that due to the immense size of them - even as paperbacks - if enough of them were amassed you could construct a structurally sound house).


With this, I am going to begin my wrangling of classic and influential literature and proceed to carve my own niche out of the hard granite of people's bookshelves. Failing this, I can always attempt to wow people with my large collection of books while I photograph/play guitar/paint them (delete as appropriate).

It's odd how my style of writing can change so dramatically so quickly. Simply looking back a few posts, you can see the radical shift from semi-formal prose-esque writing to conversational, informal, HEATHEN writing. It's honestly quite disconcerting; however, perhaps it is necessary. When writing, especially in fiction, dialogue is not usually formal in tone; people nowadays don't speak the way I am writing right now.

Of course, I am omitting the people who plague the world with their bastardised version of language; this 'text' speak of theirs is honestly quite revolting. I would rather leap out of a spacecraft, reach terminal velocity and then land eyeball first on a mountain of sharp glass shards and salt before willingly subjecting myself to some of the horrors that are out there - or, indeed, using it myself.

Even in forum posts they choose to decry all facets of the normal English language and type as though they are a dead monkey with two and a half fingers. Not to mention the seedy underbelly of people who choose to comment on something for the sole reason of typing 'first' and then leaving, never to be seen again. The internet, although extremely wondrous, is fuel for the thousands of people who hide behind their anonymity and choose to show complete contempt for the human race. Such people should be rounded up and labeled "cannon fodder" before being used in military exercises.

Rant over. Therefore, Sraen Out.