Portal:Literature
As the generally accepted definition of literature today hugs folktales to its warm bosom, we might well conclude that literature began with one frightened caveman grunting (see language) his fears to his fellows by firelight. This, however, would be wrong. Scurrying, short and bitter academics in dank bare cells have clinically proven that 'literature' is caused by writing down things which never happened and which afflict the reader with acute boredom , in some cases literally boring the victim to death.
Today, the study of literature remains a major academic discipline at nearly every educational institution around the world, often being the most heavily required class for graduation. This is because academics have declared that finding themes (which the author totally intended to put in the work) is far more important than learning first aid, basic home and auto repair, or how to do your taxes. However, there is one major benefit to the study of literature: without it, as many as half of the jokes in your favorite TV shows would fly right over your head. (See more...)
Nineteen Eighty-Four (also known as 1984) is a novel written by visionary George Orwell way back when men were traveling by horse and oliphant. It depicts a world of totalitarianism where an evil entity, known as the Party, ruthlessly rules over everyone and everything. It was originally written on holly wood tree bark and moose skin until someone discovered the magnificent work and published it when the technology became available.
For those of you who have not read the book, never mind this article, stop reading right now and go on with your lives. There's nothing to see here. This book doesn't exist, it never existed. Cleanse your memory, reboot yourself and don't forget to show up to work tomorrow. For those who did read the book, go back to Room 101 to get your electroshocks and learn to think like the Party wants you to. You'll eventually realize that 2+2=5. Right before the Party shoves you in a barrel full of acid and vaporizes you into thin air. At least they'll let you chose between mint and strawberry scent. (See more...)
Why did I eat a bucket full of beans?
The merchant said it came from dusty Spain;
So sav'ry yet, like stabs from shadow'd fiend:
It leaves me in a hurricane of pain.
My sphincter cries in anguish from the spice,
Too cloying was the sauce, so fiery red;
Before the pain I would have 'et it twice,
And now the beans awake my colon's dread.
I sit upon a bucket full of shit,
A stench so foul, a soup of red and green;
To sit and shit for hours with no quit,
My anus wet from spewing muddy steam!
The beans were truly foe disguised as friend,
Yet somehow, I shall eat those beans again.
Sylvia Plath (October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963) was a suicidally-depressed female poet. She is generally considered to be one of the best writers to work within the suicidally-depressed-female genre, having written several classics of depressing female literature, including the poetry collections Ariel and The Colossus and the novel The Bell Jar.
Since her suicide at the tender age of 30, Plath has grown to become a feminist icon; often perceived as a female genius who struggled within a patriarchy who dismissed her literary expression and sought to demean her as a sex object. She is was also a hottie.
Plath was born, quite aptly, during the Great Depression. As she said in her poem The Suicide Cloud: "for me, the Great Depression never ended". Her mother was a teacher of English, while her father was a bee enthusiast who made his name by writing two books about bees. Apparently he couldn't say everything he wanted to with just one book about bees. Plath's parents were clearly huge influences on her for the rest of her life, and from a very young age she became dedicated to poetry – poetry that contained a frankly baffling multitude of references to bees. (See more...)
LAS VEGAS, Nevada – In a surprising move, acclaimed American author and journalist Hunter S. Thompson has admitted to taking banned drugs at the peak of his career. Thompson, who died in 2005, finally admitted to ingesting a potentially lethal cocktail of banned substances during the late 1960s and "pretty much all of" the 1970s - the period many acknowledge as the peak of his achievements - during a post-mortem interview with our UnNews reporters.
During the period in question, Thompson wrote the series of books that made his name, and most critics agree he "knocked them right out of the park". Thompson himself has stated that he took the drugs "purely for health benefits", and asserts that they "had no effect on my writing - there's no pill in existence that gives you the mind-brain co-ordination required to write a great novel". Prominent critics are lining up to disagree, with one stating "Thompson might assert that the drugs didn't affect his writing, but give me a break - the giant lizard people, the bats, the creeping paranoia, it's amazing no-one suspected this before!" (See more...)
| “ | Literature must rest always on a principle, and temporal considerations are no principle at all. For, to the poet, all times and places are one; the stuff he deals with is eternal and eternally the same: no theme is inept, no past or present preferable. | ” |
-
Art
Peak pretentiousness -
Business
Money, money, money! -
Comedy
The science of funny -
Culinary
Food for the soul -
Film
Enter the Matrix -
Games
Recess time -
Gay
A gay ol' time -
Geography
Get lost -
History
Factually wrong -
Literature
Literally illiterate -
Internet
A series of tubes -
Music
Rock on! -
Politics
Politically incorrect -
People
The people's portal -
Religion
Speak of the Devil -
Science
Playing to be God -
Society
We live in one -
Technology
Breaking stuff easier -
Television
Turn your brain off -
Theatre
To be or not to be -
Video Games
Better than sex -
Zoology
Beware of furries -
Portals
Meta-Portal -
Community
The Community -
Main Page
The Uncyclopedia
