KBABZ
Third Technician, Chicken Soup Machine Repairman
Joined: Sep 21, 2006
Age: 22
Posts: 6665
Location: Middle Earth. Er, I mean Wellywood. Wait, Wellington.
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 Posted: Thu Sep 28, 2006 12:04 am Post subject: |
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I read the book too. I'm only 16, and it felt like I was reading the life of a 13 year old.
The ironic thing is that as soon as I had finished it, a class with most of my friends in it had to read it as a book study, with all that 'read between and beyond the lines' stuff. So they now know as well!
Before the holidays started I lent the book to a friend of mine so she could read it. I'll know her opinion in a week or so! I'm gonna keep the book quite close, as I KNOW it's quite important (yet I've only read it once  ).
_________________
I was sad when I found that she left
But then I found
That I could speak to her,
In a way
And sadness turned to comfort
We all go there |
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Dalebert
Pileated woodpecker
Joined: Sep 05, 2006
Posts: 199
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| Posted: Thu Sep 28, 2006 2:48 am Post subject: |
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| jester69 wrote: | I recieved a formal Dx last week, i am in my late 30's.
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It was a relief because all my life I have been studying other people and trying to do what they do so that I will fit in and not be a freak. I got the kind of AS where I want people to like me, but can't seem to avoid alienating everyone I meet. |
That describes me to a tee as well. Just discovering this at 38 and my social situation is very similar. |
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paolo
Phoenix
Joined: Aug 13, 2006
Posts: 1299
Location: Italy
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| Posted: Thu Sep 28, 2006 3:53 am Post subject: |
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What we call normal people have some sort of success in current enterprises of society. We will never have success in this kind of enterprises. The logic of our system is cooperation in futile and most of the time destructive enterprises. Even private life, intimate life is subordinated or, one way or the other, under the shadow of generalized destruction. Have a look at the jumble of freeways around our great cities, traffic jams, smog. What the hell are all these people doing? They are, literaly, fabricating hell. It’s not a joke: marketing, public relations, advertising, policing all these senseless activities are hell.
We may care for children, for sick or old people, and even this with effort and never really communicating with them because, while they are temporarily exonerated from active duty, they are all prepared to enter or to return to the general mad business. So we live in different universes, like the infirmary in war. Or else our unease is so serious that we are lodged ourselves inside the infirmaries as patients.
I think there should be a narrow road we can take, with lucidity and determination. Can we make it?
I think we should at least try. It is the only form of optimism I can have.
For whom is ready to read some bleak, but very good portrait of our situation, I want to signal three books perceptive and revelatory:
Yates, Revolutionary Road
Ishiguro, Never Let Me go
Coetzee, Slow Man
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