Somewhere in between watching a documentary on Helvetica and choosing to read Beowulf over supernatural sex and violence novels I turned into the Most Boring Person On The Planet! I hope it will pass soon
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But Beowulf *is* a supernatural violence novel. It's just really really old. And of course, lacks the sex, unless I've totally forgotten something. (Which happens. Often.)
I guess this is proof that people had longer attention spans back in the day. When all everyone talks about is the monsters I expect crazy monster slaying action. Instead I feel like I'm reading an ancient version of Cribs or lifestyles of the rich and famous.
"Come on in I'm Hrothgar and this is my Hall Heorot! It's the best damn golden and gabled hall in all of Dane Land. Here's my queen Wealhtheow! Say hi honey! Already produced me and heir and spare. She makes the best damn mead this side of Juteland. Here's where we keep the head of Grendal. Did you know that some crazy ass Geat got up in head and killed Grendal *and* Grendal's Mom? I know!"
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When all everyone talks about is the monsters I expect crazy monster slaying action. Instead I feel like I'm reading an ancient version of Cribs or lifestyles of the rich and famous.
"Come on in I'm Hrothgar and this is my Hall Heorot! It's the best damn golden and gabled hall in all of Dane Land. Here's my queen Wealhtheow! Say hi honey! Already produced me and heir and spare. She makes the best damn mead this side of Juteland. Here's where we keep the head of Grendal. Did you know that some crazy ass Geat got up in head and killed Grendal *and* Grendal's Mom? I know!"
I lead an odd inner life.
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