Lit copypasta

Post the best lit copypastas.

(Btw. Im looking for the greg sadler navy seal one)

Bump for Gregory Barrycone Sadler

I stumbled upon this board by chance. I usually watch the others. Anyhow, I saw Infinite Jest here often. At first I didn’t believe the stories. But then I decided to buy it and give it a read. I have now bought all the different covers with Infinite Jest. At first I would read it normally. Then I started reading it from end to beginning. Then I just opened the page and started reading it. Sometimes I read it out loud. When I do that I use different voices. For example I do a yelling voice, or a seductive woman, or I do a documentary voice. I try to memorize parts of the book and would see how much I got right. I usually spend most of my time like this. My family worries about me and tells me there is more to life as Infinite Jest. I just think they don’t understand it. I also read reviews of Infinite Jest and when I read them I make a face you see on those funny David Foster Wallace reaction images. I keep at least one Infinite Jest book to whenever I go (but well, it is not like I go away that much). It is a bummer the book is so heavy but I think it is worth it. I lurk here often but I am too timid to actually post here. I get scared easily and when I do I find comfort in thinking about Infinite Jest. It took a lot of courage to make this post but I just wanted you all to know that I and Infinite Jest are really happy together and I wouldn’t have found out about this masterpiece without this board, so thanks.

Can someone post the J R one about not having to read to post here. I finished that book a while ago and that one is perfect

not a copy pasta exactly, but the OP is one of my favorite screen caps.

...

Why even bother faking the image if you're going to do it that badly? That's weird.

Behead All Satans?

Is it?

I was entering a prestigious PhD program and focusing on Joyce because I loved Dubliners, Portrait, and Ulysses. To my shame, though, I'd never read the Wake. I'd never even tried, as hard as that was to admit. It was this huge blind spot and area of vulnerability for me. Whenever it'd come up with my colleagues I'd just smile and nod, smile and nod, hoping they wouldn't ask me anything specific about it. "The musicality of it," somebody would say, and I'd say, "Oh God, yes, it's like Beethoven." Finally, though, I had to dive into it, and let me tell you it was tough going. Joseph Campbell's guide helped a lot. Reading it out loud helped. I listened to other people read it, read online commentaries. Eventually it started to make some sort of sense. It was like I was learning to read for the first time again, and in a way this was enjoyable. I got better at reading the book. Soon I was reading entire paragraphs without trouble, getting the puns, laughing at the jokes. I could sort of follow the story, it was like a blurry picture resolving into clarity, or like I was drunk and I was sobering up, I could actually understand it. As I became more and more adept at reading the Wake, I began putting myself to the test, initiating conversations with my colleagues about it, but specific passages this time, specific parts of the book. You can probably guess what happened. After a number of these conversations it became blindingly obvious that I understood the book a lot better than they did, they who I thought were the experts. It eventually became sort of embarrassing for them and I stopped trying to talk about it. And at the end of the day I would pack my things, catch the bus home, and settle into my apartment to read the Wake. It had surpassed all of Joyce's other works in my estimation. Ulysses, the book months earlier I would've named as my favorite of all time, the best book ever written, was now #2 to the Wake. So majestic, so ambitious, so wide-ranging, erudite, glorious, incredible was it that I couldn't believe that it was the work of one man. Best of all, the heart of it isn't complicated at all. What did I get from the Wake, what are its lessons? First of all, be yourself. Second of all, put one foot in front of the other. And lastly, just do it for crying out loud, time's a wastin'!

>See qtπ girl reading Infinite Jest at college>Walk up to her>"So you like DFW huh?">"Yes, he's brilliant!" she responds, clearly excited>Decide to engage her in an intelligent literary discussion>"Did you know that he killed himself because he hadn't any talent?">"E-excuse me?" (she is clearly impressed by my expertise)>"He can't write, he can't think; there's no discernible talent">"Ooo-kay..." she says and turns back to her book>I tear it from her hands and launch it across the room with all my strength>"Why don't you read some real literature instead?">"What the hell!?">"I recommend Hemmingway. Now there's a man's man">"I don't like Hemingway!">"Hemmingway," I correct her. "It has two m's">She collects her book from where it lies three metres away and storms off, completely defeated by my insoluble logic>I open my laptop>That feel when no gf

oh god i want to kill myself for how badly I fucked up posting this

>See qtπ girl reading Infinite Jest at college>Walk up to her
>"So you like DFW huh?"
>"Yes, he's brilliant!" she responds, clearly excited
>Decide to engage her in an intelligent literary discussion
>"Did you know that he killed himself because he hadn't any talent?"
>"E-excuse me?" (she is clearly impressed by my expertise)
>"He can't write, he can't think; there's no discernible talent"
>"Ooo-kay..." she says and turns back to her book
>I tear it from her hands and launch it across the room with all my strength
>"Why don't you read some real literature instead?"
>"What the hell!?"
>"I recommend Hemmingway. Now there's a man's man"
>"I don't like Hemingway!"
>"Hemmingway," I correct her. "It has two m's"
>She collects her book from where it lies three metres away and storms off, completely defeated by my insoluble logic
>I open my laptop
>That feel when no gf

>See a qtp2t at college
>She's reading Game of Thrones.
>Walk up to her like a Gatsby boss
>"H-hey, w-why are you r-reading that when you could be reading some real l-literature?" I say like a boss
>"Excuse me, do I know you?" she says having immediately fallen madly in love with my alpha male persona
>Spin around rolling backpack with flourish that I've been practicing for the last 8 months
>Nailed it
>Take out copy of Ulysses
>"here is a real book." My voice romantically cracks as I try to slap the pleb lit out of her hands.
>"Stop, what the fuck are you doing?" She says still holding on to the, heh, book.
>The copy of Ulysses is too heavy and it falls into my rolling backpack knocking my copy of Finnegan's wake to the ground and spaghetti goes everywhere.
>"Oh my God." She starts laughing, betraying me on our first anniversary.
>I try to get all the spaghetti back into my copy of Ulysses, but it's ulyssless.
>Start laughing at my own pun. Guy walks over to girl, obviously trying to be the cool guy.
>"Is this retard giving you problems?" He asks
>I call him a plebeian.
>He calls me a faggot and kicks me in the throat and tells me to stay away from my girlfriend.
>To add insult to injury he takes my fedora and throws it into the spaghetti.
>This ignorant world will never understand my genius.
>I'm persecuted like Jesus, ironic because I'm too smart to fall for that nonesense, I'm an atheist all the way.

>Standing in line at the cafeteria
>qt3.14 girl in front of me is browsing her phone in one hand, holding a copy of Gravity's Rainbow in the other
>My interest is piqued and I enjoy a slight swelling in my pants
>I adjust my fedora to get a better view of her phone
>She's on Reddit's literature subreddit
>Engaging my new hardboiled persona, I breathe into her neck and start tutting loudly
>She flinches and turns to face me
>'Can I help you?'
>I chuckle inwardly. How ironic that she should ask me that.
>Outwardly I inform her that Veeky Forums has a far superior forum for discussing literature
>To soften the blow to her ego I make a joke about Tao Lin needing to go to bed
>She stares at me
>I let out a manly giggle and elbow her playfully in the ribs
>She stumbles backwards
>'What the hell?'
>I immediately apologise and bow
>'I'm sorry to have offended you, my lady. I know your culture is based on honour.'
>'I'm from California you creep.'
>Still maintaing my bow, but the surprise causes my fedora to slip off
>My copy of Lolita is visible to all, highlighted and beginning to ooze spaghetti
>I back away slowly but trip over my trenchcoat
>The whole cafeteria is now staring at me
>I hear someone mention how Veeky Forums is 'that paedo website'
>Someone else starts calling the police
>A true hardboiled detective knows when to make his move
>Slowly, never avoiding eye contact with the qt, I begin crabwalking towards the door
>I'm nearly out by now, but my work is not quite done
>I start to educate the crowd on the distinction between paedophilia and ephebophilia
>Wake up in a holding cell
>I join a long tradition of radicals persecuted for their beliefs
>Just call me Aleksandr Sole-sin's-yelling

>"Hemmingway," I correct her. "It has two m's"
this always gets me

>but it's ulyssless.

Obi-Wan doesn't need to be on the high ground, the high ground just needs to exist within the battle; Obi-Wan knows that when he has the low ground, he really has the high ground, from a certain point of view; Look at his battle record: Maul: Has low ground, wins Dooku: No high ground, loses Dooku rematch: No high ground, loses Grevious: Has low ground, wins Vader: Has high ground, wins Vader rematch: No high ground, loses Obi-Wan with the high/low ground is canonically the most powerful Jedi. This is fact. Had Yoda not denied his request to battle The Senate with typical Jedi arrogance, Obi-Wan could have defeated Palpatine in the Senate building, which housed a variety of different altitudes; this was designed so that the Chancellor could always have the moral high ground in political debates. But Obi-wan didn't fight The Senate, and Yoda soon learned that you can't cleave the Sheev in a normal 1v1. Yoda is shorter than virtually every other fighter, which gives him a permanent low-ground disadvantage; however, his saber-fighting style utilizes a flipping-heavy technique in order to negate this weakness for a temporary window. You'll notice that, as he falls from the central podium in The Senate's building, he immediately retreats, knowing that he can never hold the high ground in this duel. You'll also notice that, while training Luke, he rides on him like a mount, to gain the intellectual high ground and accelerate Luke's training. Obi-Wan's defensive Form III lightsaber style synergizes with his careful military maneuvers; as he only strikes when prepared, he can always hold the strategic high ground. You'll come to realize that Commander Cody's artillery strike failed against Obi-Wan, when hundreds of Jedi were killed in similar attacks. Cody failed to grasp the strategic situation, as the Jedi Master's elevation was superior to his by hundreds of meters, making him virtually unkillable. Had Cody taken his time and engaged the Jedi on even terrain, he could have possibly succeeded. Obi-Wan then retreated under the surface of the lake, so that he could maintain the topographical low/high ground. In RotS, you'll notice that all the Jedi killed were on level ground with the clones, thereby assuring their demise.

>Stares blankly off to distance
Mfw this is me at the library.

Anyone remeber the oily smarts?

As we all know, spinning is a good trick. However, only the Chosen one can spin outside of a starfighter. Palpatine tried spinning, but he lost due to this technique (but this was intentional, as losing gave him the emotional high ground when Anakin arrived). The reason for this is that spinning provides a yin-yang approach to combat (based in Eastern philosophy on balance), giving the spinner the high ground from above and below. Only the Chosen One can master the spin, as it is their destiny to maintain balance in the universe. This is why Obi-Wan was so emotional after defeating Vader on Mustafar; he expected to lose the high ground to the spin, but Anakin fell to the dark side and could no longer use his signature trick, becoming the very thing he swore to destroy. Anakin doesn't hate sand for the reasons he told Padme; all Jedi hate sand, as the battlefield can rapidly change between low and high ground on multiple vectors, so your perspective must be from a certain three-dimensional point of view in order to comprehend who holds the high ground. This is the only reason why Obi-Wan killed Maul in Rebels. This is also why Obi-Wan hates flying; there is no gravity in space, therefore there is no high or low ground from any frame of reference (This also negates the spinning trick). It took the Tusken Raiders years of conflict against Old Ben Kenobi to grasp his superiority in terrain advantage, as you see them visibly flee in ANH when they realize he holds the low (inverse-high) ground. Additionally, Obi-Wan's victory in the cantina against the drunkard was assured, as he held the temperamental high ground, his actions more calculated and well-thought than the alcoholic, who was so uncivilized. In ANH, Vader proves his newfound mastery by engaging Obi on perfectly even ground. However, Obi-Wan intentionally sacrifices himself on the Death Star, so that he could train Luke from a higher plane of existence, thereby giving him the metaphysical high ground.

Why was Vader so invested in the construction and maintenance of the Death Star? Because he knows Obi-wan can't have the high ground if there's no ground left. As seen through the events of the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan was known to be on friendly terms with Senator Organa, whose homeworld held large quantities of mountainous terrain, the perfect habitat for a Jedi Master. Grand Moff Tarkin was already in position to destroy Alderaan as a first target, as the distance from Scarif to Alderaan was too vast to reach between the escape and recapture of the Tantive IV, even at 1.0 lightspeed. Alderaan had been the initial target all along, as Obi-Wan with the high ground was the primary threat to the Death Star. How? Because a moon-sized space station would have some form of gravitational pull, thereby negating Obi-Wan's zero-gravity weakness; Obi-Wan with the perpetual high-ground in a low-orbit starfighter would easily be able to fire proton torpedoes through a ventilation shaft, although the Empire was uncertain of the specific weakness of the Death Star planned by Galen Erso (who was a good friend). In Return of the Jedi, you can see that the Throne Room contains a variety of different altitudes; Palpatine placed these there to ensure Vader's defeat. However, Sheev failed to realize that his weakness was no ground, and should have covered that useless gaping pit which does nothing. A common misconception is the idea of a 'prostrate position' version of the high ground, wherein Obi-Wan lies flat on his back, giving him tactical superiority from his point of view. However, this strategy is futile, as for the high ground to come into effect, there must be a differential between parties on both the x-axis and y-axis to a moderately significant variation from both absolutes (Angles only a Sith would deal in.). For Obi-Wan's high ground powers to have full effect, he must stand between 15 and 75 degrees (π/12 to 5π/12 radians) diagonal from his opponent(s) on any quadrant of the trigonometric circle. In conclusion, Obi-wan abuses spatial relativity and Taoist doctrine in order to always invoke his high-ground powers.

Everything about this is perfect.

unfortunately, yes.

it's post-ironic you dingus

Do you have the text?
It was like Anaxphora uses his oily smarts and read his thoughts. No one understood.

Anyone got the Gregory Sadler Navy Seal one?

Just watch Neil de Grasse tyson videos and post on Reddit until the end of fucking time

Shit like this is produced by bourgeois think tanks to make the middle class complacent while the rich steals all their fucking money and uses literal slaves in the third world to make their trendy glitter iPhone cases.

Go sit in a park with your sweetie! (DON'T HAVE ONE, ALL SOCIAL RELATIONS HAVE DEGENERATED TO ORGYPORGY PROLEFEED NIGHTMARE)

Take Facebook tweet selfies of your stupid bullshit! (ENDLESSLY FOCUS ON DAY-TO-DAY PETTY SOCIALIZING AND LASCHIAN NARCISSISTIC GRANDSTANDING ON SOCIAL MEDIA, ALL HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS HAVE BEEN REDUCED TO LITERALLY PREHISTORICAL LEVELS OF HYPERGAMY IN A WHIRLING GYRE OF MEANINGLESS TINDER FACEFUCKING FOR THE SELECT FEW AND ELLIOT RODGER RESENTMENT FOR THE REST)

Consume trendy garbage and eat cool food :P!!!! (LITERALLY CHINESE NIGGER SLAVES MADE YOUR STUPID BULLSHIT "THINKGEEK.COM" BAUBLES AND DESIGNER STRETCHPANTS, IN ENDLESS WASTELANDS THAT RESEMBLE THE FACTORIES OF INDUSTRIAL ENGLAND MARX WROTE ABOUT IN COMPLETE HORROR)

These people are trying to thought control you into passively reclining and injecting low-effort Mythbusters reddit filth into your brain and ignoring the dull ache of meaninglessness and consumerist overstimulation from inhaling high fructose corn syrup and salt all fucking day

"Optimistic nihilism" is what rich faggots pay slightly less rich faggots to convince lumpenproles to think they're experiencing when they work in a cubicle for 45 years to finance a lifestyle of watching proles modify Nerf guns and design "man caves". Turn off the Youtube and develop some tastes and moral preferences taht an algorithm designed by Amazon can't predict and use to predict your entire life befoer you've evn lived it you peice of fucking shit

Inspiring

no

>tfw dfw will never post to Veeky Forums

>puts down a toni morrison novel
>cracks open the latest new yorker
>downloads an npr podcast
>goes to a free summer concert series
>gets hair cut at place that serves whiskey, like back when real men shaved with straight razors
>wears an untucked gingham shirt not over a t-shirt and over-polished menswear wingtips
>waits three hours for a text from the new small plates pop-up restaurant
>orders the second least-expensive malbec
>tries to watch all the oscar nominees each year
>cannot believe how good the new rap album is
>goes to a coffee tasting
>orders a kindle and hard copy of the latest kwame ngobongo novel but listens to it on audiobook during commute to his new marketing job
>goes to four spinning classes a week
>talks about how busy life as a creative is
>buys a groupon for hamilton
lives in new york city

>be me
>shipping manuscript to a publisher
>post office worker asks "what's the value of the contents in the box"
>hesitate for a moment
>"Oh it's just the manuscript for the novel I've written. It's a literary fiction piece, rendered in the postmodernist style, a la Pynchon or David Foster Wallace."
>postal worker smiles at me
>"So it's worthless?"
>blink in shock
>"Excuse me?"
>"It has no value, correct?"
>"Y-yeah I g-guess so, monetarily at least."
>He laughs
>"Of course, monetarily."

What the fuck

Tolkien is to creative literary genius what Martin is to hack pulp idiocy. They both so far surpass anyone else in their field that they will be remembered 1,000 years from now as a kind of yin and yang of fantasy, a Manichaen duality of speculative letters. For every sublime, luminous beauty that Tolkien has gifted the world, Martin has cursed us with a tedious, banal ugliness. It is unfair to compare the two directly on any one point, because Martin is in every way the anti-Tolkien, patently sterile, parasitical, and inferior, but so much so that he becomes a monument in his own right, and counterbalances Tolkien. Could one exist without the other? Tolkien obviously could. But it is only by the contrast that Martin offers that we can truly appreciate the full depths and heights of Tolkien. Our understanding of Tolkien would be incomplete if Martin had never set pen to page. It is through only the abject failure and futility of Martin that we can approach an apprehension of the true scope and scale of Tolkien's hitherto inconceivable greatness. Perhaps this is what Tolkien had in mind when he wrote about the Music of the Ainur. If Tolkien is a subcreator in the image of Eru, truly Martin is like unto Melkor. It is only reflected in the awfulness of the one that we can fully see the goodness of the other.

why bother reading someone who couldn't even live with himself. the only sincere moment in the life of David Foster wallace was when he kicked away the chair. the rest of his life was a lie, the new sincerity was a joke whose punchline was the creaking of a leather belt around the rafter.his literary career was a menagerie of self help lies told to keep his depression at bay. the audience pussy and drugs were the ghosts at that feast of hypocrisy. the depression was warranted because behind all the gimmicks and the self awareness and the bandannas was no discernible talent

this but unironically

>approach counter with wittgenstein's tractatus
>female cash operator: doing some light reading? (said with perplexing levity)
>me (mask of confusion): are you alluding to the thinness of the volume?
>female cash operator/potential mate: huh?
>me (teeth chattering): do not let the weight of the book deceive you as to the weightiness of its contents.
>future wife: ok
>me: (swallows)
>soul mate: are you ok?
>me: i want you to perform the transaction now

i dont get it

ekke