/lit/ - Literature

Hey lads, any tips for reading The Organon? It's my first proper work on logic, and yes i've read plato. Perhaps it's just the language, but i'm having difficulty with it. Any help would be much appreciated

/critique/ thread? I just started getting into writing little short stories. This is one that I feel the most secure in. go ahead and rip it apart plz :)

She sat at her computer desk on a gray and lifeless Tuesday afternoon. On the Monday before this present Tuesday, Joanne had come over to help her set up an e-mail address. She, our protagonist, had never used a computer much in her life. She had always thought that computers were too much to learn and that it would be too late to start. And so, the computer had sat mostly dormant in the corner of the living room. The desk, that our protagonist was currently sitting at on this gray and lifeless Tuesday afternoon, still had blue paint stains from when her husband had assembled his Boeing 747-8 model airplane. He would tune his portable Walkman to 107.9 while he skimmed through the ‘Archive’ section of the Plain Dealers website waiting for the assembly to dry. The house was quiet, for the most part. With the exception of the gurgling percolation coming from the fish tank filter in what was to be the guest room that her husband converted into his ‘hobby corner’. She felt as if it was rude to convert or muddle with the sanctity of the guest room but her husband's rebuttal was always a sour morsel of truth,- “When was the last time we had guests?” The guest room had now become a place for the cats to lounge in. Sometimes she would look through the door frame and catch them sleeping in the windowsill. The swill of dust and dander that got caught by the sun gave off the appearance of carbonated air. If she could articulate how she really felt she would probably call it something to the effect of a still life painting, serene, beautiful. Articulation, let alone expressing how she really felt, was never her forte though, so she settled for a snapshot from her Motorola flip phone. Later, she would forward the picture to her son, captioned, “miss u”, with the assistance of the aforementioned Joanne. It was a slab, the house that is, one floor, no basement; it was just enough for both our protagonist and her husband after they had both retired from their respective fields. It was just enough for the both of them to live and breath and move and have being. It was now doubly so for our protagonist. At the funeral, the only thing that she could think about is how unbearably agonizing it will be once she returns home to those vanilla walls. Could she even call it that? She wondered, (of course not aloud) is it a home anymore? Or just more of an assortment of memories to stub your grieving hearts toe on? All of these once inanimate things now take on a new meaning to her in this place she once called home. The suspended Boeing 747-8, The percolation of the fish tank, the sunbathing cat, the computer sitting at the corner of the living room. A new contextual awakening that only leaves room for memories that she wishes she could let go, but know she needs to keep.

Post the greatest idea you've ever come up with

>>7056259
He makes it pretty clear in his essay on American television. Basically, he sees the value of irony in literature as a way to emphasize tragedy, but he thinks that people with "ironic personalities" are completely closed-off and empty, hiding from humanity behind a defensive wall of sarcasm.

I'm about to start the engineering school. I like reading read and the time to do it won't be enough. Tell me how to approach to these new studies without losing the passion for the literature. Help me to find a link between the rational condition of this school and the passional and romantic characteristics of literature.

>>6635658
If you were God would you care about humanity? Think about it, he's omnipotent and immortal. To him we're dust, risen from dust.

God wouldn't care about humanity. It would be like us caring about the ants beneath our feet.

God doesn't create the evil in our world either, so you can't blame him. When things are fucked its usually our fault.