2004-12-13 - 2:47 p.m.
In my high school, there was a literary magazine that they couldn't even sell, they had to give away, called the El Dorado, and it was full of shitty poems and stories, usually about roses and eagles and giving birth. But that was in high school.
Today I left French and noticed they were giving away (uh oh, giving away) copies of a literary magazine for Montclair State University. So I picked up one to read on the bus. And I have to say, now that the people writing stories and poems are college-aged, the magazine
is fucking garbage. Seriously, the stuff in this book is absolute garbage. The garbage that I write is a hundred times better than this. It's like negative numbers on the suck scale.
It bothers me. Why is it so fucking shitty? I'm cursing not out of anger but out of lack of better adjectives. Out of disgust, maybe. It's the same fucking crap as in high school. Stupid crap about roses and vampires. It's even the same shit where the only contributors are the president, vice president, and treasurer of the lame ass literary magazine club. Here are some excerpts.
"In the dark Alejandro could see the small face of an innocent, yet fliratious beauty. She was a girl losing her childhood to the sound of rustling sheets and deep breathing as his fingers ran across her bare skin with anxious possession."
Feces.
"I met you under the full moon oen night
An eerie glow was coming off your white face.
In that instant my body overflowed with fright
And yet I longed for your icy embrace.
...
T'was then that you took me, my lord, my sire
And upon my wishes made me this cursed vampire."
EXCEREMENT.
There's one essay where every sentence begins with "I am" or "I went" or just "I" insert verb here.
Fucking garbage.
What makes me even sicker is two of the faculty advisors to this junk are French professors I have right now or will have. No, but the thought of any professor approving these writings, is ridiculous. And saddening.
