Feedback Agency posted:

what is irony? we just don't know?

Applewhite posted:

Still need to finish that book. Thanks for reminding me, OP.

32MB OF ESRAM posted:

i found a 30mg gel cap of hydromorph contin the other day


seems like most junkies online are excited to get 6mg pills, but i have a 30mg in my posession.


how do i get the most hosed up on it??

PBS Newshour posted:

hey what do you call an android really into theater?

Feedback Agency posted:

what is irony?

MiracleWhale posted:

that gay robot

Planarch posted:

Infinite Jest is more physically difficult to read than mentally. It's much longer than it needs to be, there are walls of text everywhere, and you have to flip to the footnotes constantly or miss out on some entire character arcs. Get the eBook or don't read it at all IMO.

Lawrence Gilchrist posted:

and as someone who first read “Infinite Jest” at perhaps the perfect age (22, as a Peace Corps volunteer in Uzbekistan)

mdm posted:

jesus christ

Black Baby Goku posted:

He was my professor in college

ArmZ posted:

hilarious and ironic anecdotes please

quote:

im permabanned poster niggerstomper58. i first started reading fyad when i was about 12. by 14 i got really obsessed with the concept of “irony” and tried to channel it constantly, until my thought process got really bizarre and i would repeat things like “friend of the family balls” and “i love making GBS threads inside friend of the family assholes” in my head for hours, and i would get really paranoid, start seeing things in the corners of my eyes etc, basically prodromal schizophrenia. im now on antipsychotics. i always wondered what the kind of “ironic” style of fyad humor was all about; i think it’s the unconscious leaking in to the conscious, what jungian theory considered to be the cause of schizophrenic and schizotypal syptoms. i would advise all people who “get” fyad to be careful because that likely means you have a predisposition to a mental illness. peace.

Lawrence Gilchrist posted:

“Infinite Jest” is unquestionably the novel of its generation. As a member (barely) of the generation Wallace was part of, and as a writer whose closest friends are writers (most of whom are Wallace fans), and as someone who first read “Infinite Jest” at perhaps the perfect age (22, as a Peace Corps volunteer in Uzbekistan), my testimony on this point may well be riddled with partisanship. So allow me to drop the mask of the introducer to show the homely face of a fan, and much later a friend, of David Wallace.

As I read “Infinite Jest” in the dark early mornings before my Uzbek language class, I could hear my host mother talking to the chickens in the barn on the other side of my bedroom wall as she flung scatters of feed before them. I could hear the cows stirring, and then their deep monstrous mooing, along with the compound’s approximately 10,000 wild cats moving in the crawl space directly above my bed. What I am trying to say is that it should have been difficult to focus on the doings of Hal Incandenza, Don Gately, Rémy Marathe and Madame Psychosis. But it wasn’t. I read for hours that way, morning after morning, my mind awhirl. For the first few hundred pages of my initial reading, I will confess that I greatly disliked “Infinite Jest.” Why? Jealousy, frustration, impatience. It’s hard to remember exactly why. It wasn’t until I was writing letters to my girlfriend, and describing to her my fellow Peace Corps volunteers and host-family members and long walks home through old Soviet collectivized farmland in what I would categorize as yellow-belt Wallaceian prose, that I realized how completely the book had rewired me. Here is one of the great Wallace innovations: the revelatory power of freakishly thorough noticing, of corralling and controlling detail. Most great prose writers make the real world seem realer — it’s why we read great prose writers. But Wallace does something weirder, something more astounding: Even when you’re not reading him, he trains you to study the real world through the lens of his prose. Several writers’ names have become adjectivized — Kafkaesque, Orwellian, Dickensian — but these are designators of mood, of situation, of civic decay. The Wallaceian is not a description of something external; it describes something that happens ecstatically within, a state of apprehension (in both senses) and understanding. He didn’t name a condition, in other words. He created one.

Illavick posted:

Pfffff human being. I read infinite jest at age 27 in and out of a men's drug withdrawal clinic while attending narcotics anonymous meetings. It's not THAT loving great. It's a really good book but it's not timeless, it's just good. After reading it I tackled gravity's rainbow and that was WAY better. Pynchon is a poet where Wallace is a journalist. In the realm of fiction, which do you think makes for better reading? Wallace's prose is just amateur in comparison. I did get a good laugh out of Hal's underground smoke spot being described as "unfenestrated" though. That and the eschatology game were really the best parts of the book imo.

mdm posted:

Journalism is the realm of fiction

roymorrison posted:

hmm yes 90s white male; the book

Sandusky Kenshin posted:

The book doesn't end, so once you read it you need to go back to the beginning. That's the "Infinite Jest." Isn't that brilliant? *hangs himself*

NurhacisUrn posted:

Sandusky Kenshin posted:

The book doesn't end, so once you read it you need to go back to the beginning. That's the "Infinite Jest." Isn't that brilliant? *hangs himself*

Nooner posted:

i have a drinking problem and love posting im NOT drinking right now (cause that would be breaking the forums rules and I'd never do that )

32MB OF ESRAM posted:

glad a straight edge nerd wrote those rules because i am high as gently caress basically 24/7. weed fuckin RULES

gargle chome posted:

jesus dude get help