Neither am I dead, nor is this series.
Hello and welcome to the second episode of Prose-tinted glasses. If you have no idea what the hell is going on here or need a refresher, head on over to the pilot episode where I introduce you to this new venture of mine and talk about Orwell’s 1984. Seriously, do it. It’ll save you from my wrath by preventing you from calling it a book-review series.
I’m assuming you’re now familiar with the previous episode. So, in keeping with our theme of Books we all Pretend we’ve Read, the book for today is The Handmaid’s Tale.
*cue theme music*
I know, I know. It has over seventy thousand reviews on Goodreads, who knows how many more articles, entire research papers, and a whole TV show. But will any of that deter me from writing about it? Did any of that compel me to read at least one article about it? Did I watch the show?
I call it being authentic. Continue reading
Yep, you read it right –the Factory is now the proud owner of 200 followers!
(Owner? That sounds wrong. Maybe you should say… caterer, or something?)
(Shut up Wrinkles this is not your post.)
(I said Shut. Up.)
No, Wrin dear, I am not changing it to ‘just My Brain’. And no, the title’s not too long.
Well, hello there. Three days ago, it was C&C Fac’s 3rd anniversary, and even though my 12th board exams are literally starting in 17 days (yes, I counted), I’ve come out of this blogging exile just for this anniversary post, which is basically the only tradition over here.
*Brazenly copies Misha Collins’ twitter greeting*
Now I don’t normally do social media-y posts like this; if I have something to tell you, I usually put it in an author’s note at the end of my regular stuff. But if you’ve read Killing the Creator part 13 you know I didn’t do it this time and even told you to watch out for this post. What the hell? Have I finally gone batty, you ask?
Well, no. I would’ve told you this in the author’s note itself, but then it’d have been too long and it wouldn’t be fit to be called a note anymore. And besides, the news merited an individual post. So, I present to you-
me wasting your time a public announcement.
Ahem, ahem. *Spends five minutes clearing throat* *Drinks a one-litre water bottle* *Picks up a megaphone and gets on the soapbox*
I’ve been published.
Once I was seven years old,
A ball pen did I hold and
On a half-used notebook wrote a story
Once I was seven years old.
Wrinkles: I see you’ve titled this post like a 5-year-old. ‘A Conversation with Wrinkles?’ No one’s gonna read it.
Me: Five-year-olds don’t blog.
Wrinkles: None except you. Retitle it. Right now.
Me(grinning smugly): That’s gonna cause a paradox, Wrin dear. Besides, do you not remember our last conversation? I’m gonna stay true to my word.
Wrinkles: I do, but the readers won’t, and this post will be a flop, so change it right now. And stop titling my dialogues with ‘Wrinkles’. Do it right now, or-
Me: Or? What’re you gonna do? Jump out of my head and kill both of us? Continue reading
If you read the title of this post and went “Oh, just another dumb far-rightist spreading their idiotic propaganda”, then let me stop you right there. If you don’t wanna read this post, fine. But let me clarify just one thing- I am not a conservative. I am the very opposite of conservative. I’m a liberal. Continue reading
Yeah, yeah, I couldn’t find a good enough rhyme for ‘Walt Whitman’ that would also fit the theme of this parody, so, bear with me. But did you not read that properly? It’s a parody, folks! (That too after nine months, like my brain was pregnant with it and has finally birthed it today- get it? I’ll just see myself out).
Now the reason why I’ve decided to write a parody after such a long time is that I’ve completed a hundred posts on the Factory. *Shower of confetti* *Fountain of Appy Fizz since I’m not old enough for champagne* *Virtual applause which is the only kind I’ll get* You see that featured image, folks? That’s what it means.
This is my hundred-and-first post, and I wanted to do something which was both special and enjoyable (so a letter to my first-post self was out, which was my initial idea). Today I’ve parodied Walt Whitman’s ‘The Voice of the Rain‘, which is a wonderful poem (I mean, come on, it’s Walt Whitman) and which is also in our English textbook this year. You should go read it if you haven’t. Now, on to the parody:
‘Optimism is a scam. It’s realism that gets you through life,’ I typed out my WhatsApp status, finally wording one of my unconventional beliefs.
Today, I’m gonna talk about that WhatsApp status. Numerous speakers talk about optimism, the power of positive thinking, et cetera, et cetera. Many of them pose that classic (which is to say, cliched) ‘Is the glass of water half empty or half full?’ question to their audience, holding up said glass for the whole room to ponder about.
First of all, let me add as a disclaimer, I’m not saying optimism is a bad thing. How can thinking positively be bad? All I’m saying is that it’s impractical.
Reading the Harry Potter books is a rite of passage for a reader. Learning to play the F chord is a rite of passage for a guitarist. Similarly, receiving a second award of the same kind is a rite of passage for a blogger.
In my opinion, at least.