What is the literary equivalent of films that are so bad they're good...

What is the literary equivalent of films that are so bad they're good? Film buffs have no problem and often enjoy watching objectively low quality films like pic related, but it seems bad books are more often simply just bad. What's the reason for this?

Other urls found in this thread:

amazon.com/Empress-Theresa-Norman-Boutin/dp/1495450422
ansible.uk/misc/eyeargon.html
knowyourmeme.com/memes/doom-repercussions-of-evil?full=1
twitter.com/SFWRedditGifs

Don't worry, I got you senpai.

amazon.com/Empress-Theresa-Norman-Boutin/dp/1495450422

Infinite Jest

Then I felt him getting aroused, felt how much he wanted it. Strong intense feelings raced threw my body, raced threw my bones. My body shook as sweat begun to form. And then I felt myself getting hotter, felt myself wanting him more and more. I wanted him, needed him. I wanted to feel him inside me. My body quivered and shook as his hand slowly went down, first to my thighs, then between my legs. Then I cried out in ecstasy as his fingers worked against my clitoris. It felt soo good. Felt soo intense. I arced my back and cried out in loud animal- like cries as his fingers reached the entrance and slid deep inside...."Oh....my Goddesses....Link..more baby.....LINK!" I screamed in pure ecstasy as his gentle steady thrusts made my legs quake.

Then I felt myself starting to climax as his fingers thrust deeper upping the movements. My body shuddered from the immense feelings that raged threw it. I grabbed onto the ground my nails digging into the dirt as Link's fingers made my body scream in eternal bliss. I cried out as the surges came in raging pulses, and my body withered under his touch. I begun to twist violently as the surges of pure ecstasy came in closer beats. Then when Link hit the right spot I let out a loud cat like cry...."LINK!" I screamed as I reached my peak and gushed down his hand...........panting I got up and looked at him, his lips parted to say something but I placed a finger on them. I shook my finger then moved it away as he gently laid me down.

you dont gotta put much effort into watching a movie, you just sit there and look at a screen for an hour and a half. Books take days/weeks/months to finish, and require active engagement. It's hard to stay invested in garbage, no matter how amusing it may be

“DRACO!” I shouted. “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

Draco didn’t answer but he stopped the flying car and he walked out of it. I walked out of it too, curiously.

“What the fucking hell?” I asked angrily.

“Ebony?” he asked.

“What?” I snapped.

Draco leaned in extra-close and I looked into his gothic red eyes (he was wearing color contacts) which revealed so much depressing sorrow and evilness and then suddenly I didn’t feel mad anymore.

And then…………… suddenly just as I Draco kissed me passionately. Draco climbed on top of me and we started to make out keenly against a tree. He took of my top and I took of his clothes. I even took of my bra. Then he put his thingie into my you-know-what and we did it for the first time.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! ” I screamed. I was beginning to get an orgasm. We started to kiss everywhere and my pale body became all warm. And then….

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS!”

It was…………………………………………………….Dumbledore!

The weather beaten trail wound ahead into the dust racked climes of the baren land which dominates large portions of the Norgolian empire. Age worn hoof prints smothered by the sifting sands of time shone dully against the dust splattered crust of earth. The tireless sun cast its parching rays of incandescense from overhead, half way through its daily revolution. Small rodents scampered about, occupying themselves in the daily accomplishments of their dismal lives. Dust sprayed over three heaving mounts in blinding clouds, while they bore the burdonsome cargoes of their struggling overseers.

"Prepare to embrace your creators in the stygian haunts of hell, barbarian", gasped the first soldier.

"Only after you have kissed the fleeting stead of death, wretch!" returned Grignr.

A sweeping blade of flashing steel riveted from the massive barbarians hide enameled shield as his rippling right arm thrust forth, sending a steel shod blade to the hilt into the soldiers vital organs. The disemboweled mercenary crumpled from his saddle and sank to the clouded sward, sprinkling the parched dust with crimson droplets of escaping life fluid.

The enthused barbarian swilveled about, his shock of fiery red hair tossing robustly in the humid air currents as he faced the attack of the defeated soldier's fellow in arms.

"Damn you, barbarian" Shrieked the soldier as he observed his comrade in death.

A gleaming scimitar smote a heavy blow against the renegade's spiked helmet, bringing a heavy cloud over the Ecordian's misting brain. Shaking off the effects of the pounding blow to his head, Grignr brought down his scarlet streaked edge against the soldier's crudely forged hauberk, clanging harmlessly to the left side of his opponent. The soldier's stead whinnied as he directed the horse back from the driving blade of the barbarian. Grignr leashed his mount forward as the hoarsely piercing battle cry of his wilderness bred race resounded from his grinding lungs. A twirling blade bounced harmlessly from the mighty thief's buckler as his rolling right arm cleft upward, sending a foot of blinding steel ripping through the Simarian's exposed gullet. A gasping gurgle from the soldier's writhing mouth as he tumbled to the golden sand at his feet, and wormed agonizingly in his death bed.

One example is the writings of Amanda McKittrick Ros.

>her eccentric, over-written, "purple" circumlocutory writing is alleged by some critics to be some of the worst prose and poetry ever written.

>Her "admirers" included Aldous Huxley, Siegfried Sassoon, C.S. Lewis, and Mark Twain.[7] Her novel Irene Iddesleigh was published in 1897.[8] Twain considered Irene "one of the greatest unintentionally humorous novels of all time." A reader sent a copy of Irene to humorist Barry Pain, who in an 1898 review called it "a thing that happens once in a million years", and sarcastically termed it "the book of the century."

>The Oxford literary group the Inklings, which included C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien, held competitions to see who could read Ros' work aloud for the longest length of time without laughing.

"daves brother larry will be looking after you wile where gone you'll be ok when where gone wont you tiaa? I hate to leaven you alone like this!"

"i don't need a freakin babysiter u no!" i was so embarasing, I could look after myself!

Marie smiles and leaves the house.

"greeting a;latnaniana my names uncle larry" said uncle larry, he came in threw the door he was fat and bald with tiny black eyes and a red face

"Hey - i said"your the orphan arent you" he says "is it true you kiled your mother when she gave birth to you?"

"Wat!" I cry, my eyes filling with tears

"your an evil bich arent u? Go outsite and wash my car" he shouts angerly<

I stood up and left to wash his car. I got soap and a bucket, afraid of what he would do if I refuzed. I went outside and started to wash hush car it was a red porche. He came outside and wached me and I new he was waching me! After a minite he came over and hit me hard across the face

"wft!" i shouted

He poored the bucket of water all over me and hit me again,. I was wet and crying and he started to rip my dress and bra of me and rip my clothes. He touched my naked breats and I try to push him off me I screamed at him to stop but he did'nt. He bent me over the bonet of his car and spanked me on the ass for half an hour then he pulled my panties down and started to rape me!

>"stop raping me!" I cry but he didnt stop! The pain was terrible even tough his manhood was small. I cryed and cryed but he didnt stop for hours and when he finally stopped he left me on the floor and spat in my face and left me there. I pulled on my clothes and cryed madly and ran off into the seething darkness of the midnight street. I ran and ran un till I came to some woods and then I fell down in the woods and cryed.

Suddenly a blast of white light exploded in head and my mark on my hand burned like a flame. I closed my eyes and saw the face of a tall white man looking over me with no expression, his eyes were burning red and his face glimmered cold and bright as the moon,. I fell back from the brightness of his body, his hair was dark as night,.

"atlantiana?" he whisperd in a voice softer than clouds -my daughter?-

"omg" I whisperd as my mind went blank and the world went dark.

>What's the reason for this?

Literature is an extremely insular and subtle medium, tastes are wildly disparate compared to pretty much anything else. Add the fact that it requires a much greater time investment over music or film, and it becomes nearly impossible to write something that will hold anyone's attention.

You can tell if somebody is a proficient musician right away. A guy plays piano, maybe you don't like how it sounds but you can tell he spent time getting good enough at something that he can do things a random guy off the street can't. Same for art. Same for movies, their direction anyway. But how do you tell if a novelist is good? Reading a page or two of the first chapter won't tell you. It will tell if they are a proficient *writer*, i.e. composer of sentences, but it won't tell you if the novel has a good second act, or if the author is a complete retard at endings, or wrote 20k+ total words of horrendous dialogue. You have to read the whole thing.

So what happens is people see the first shitty page of a novel and just can it because there's no way they want to spend a shitload of hours reading this bad thing. Compared to a bad song or even movie, they might give it a chance because it doesn't take so long. This means that so-bad-it's-good movies/music is easier to discover, and easier to endure.

Legolas said"do you want to stay for a night"and then Gandalf and Strider said"yes please"and then they had tea and went to bed.During the night Legolas ask the gards to keep an eye on Laura's room.Mean while the Orcs climed up the window and grabed Laura and then Laura woke up and screamed and then the gard went into her room and saw lots of Orcs and then Legolas ran down the hall.Then Legolas said"where is Laura"and then the gards said"the Orcs took her".

Mean while the Orcs was back at Mondor and then Laura said"put me down"and then the Orcs did and then the Dark lord came out of the fire and said"welcome Laura"and then Laura looked at him and said"no it can't be"and then she tryed to run away but the Orcs got her.Then the Dark lord said"put her into the cell and bet her and also do what ever you want with her but do not kill her".Then the Orcs took her to the cell and trow her into the cell and then they shut the door.Laura go up and went to the window and looked out and she was wishing that Legolas or someone will save her.Mean while back at the castle of Milkwood Legolas was getting the army ready to go and save Laura.Mean while Laura was sitting on the floor and then the door opened and it was some Orcs and the Orcs tied Laura with some chains and then one of the Orcs striped her and then he raped her and then Laura said"go away you bastard".Then another Orc came with a whip and whiped her hard and then the Orcs all togeter bet her almost to death and then the Dark Lord came in with a tube of Posion and then he injeted into Laura.

Harry swung the guitar through Dobby's chicken neck. He took the head of his fallen dwarfslave and tore open his stomach, stuffing the head inside. Harry vomited steam and summoned a great meteor from space to smash into Hogwarts and kill everyone there, for no reason at all. A vision then appeared. It was Dumbledore, entombed in his cursed mummy armor, calling Harry from his Moonbase which wasn't on a moon.

"Harry, you must rock the fuck out."

Harry channeled his rage through Fuckslayer. The angel blood boiled as he summoned the great meteor, swathed with the blood of the tiny fucklings at Hogwarts, leapt onto it, and flew into space. He encased the entire meteor in a wreath of holy fuckfire and flew through Mercury, killing the fuck out of it. Then he sent Mercury's carcass into Venus, killing the fuck out of it and making every vagina in the galaxy explode, and inside every vagina a booby sang of mortal life's fleeting precipice.

Harry then did fly his meteor through space, punching astral vampires in half with his fists encased in fuckfire and throwing their ruined heads into the past where they bit cavemen on mars so that history changed and now there are vampire cavemen on mars. Harry received another vision from Frumblegore, who was having tea and chumpits with the president of Pangea.

"Care to have tea, Harry?"

"You know how I hate chumpits."


Harry slammed his book shut. It wasn't really a book, because the pages were made of lasers and the words were made of headless women making godless love to dragons made out of motorcycles, but it was still reading.

"Gumbledorp, if you don't stop, we'll starve, and no one will be around to kill everyone in the universe if we get around to bringing everyone back to life after we killed them."

"I am no longer Scrumblegort."

Behold, The Eye of Argon: ansible.uk/misc/eyeargon.html

Pain.
Whispering voices.
Pain.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
Need pee--new pain--what are they sticking in me? . . .
Sleep.
Pain.
Whispering voices.
“As you know, Nurse Eastman, the government spooks controlling this hospital
will not permit me to give this patient the care I think he needs.”
“Yes, doctor.” The voice was breathy, sweet, so sweet and sexy.
“We will therefore just monitor his sign’s. Serious trauma like this patient
suffered requires extra care, but the rich patsies controlling the hospital will make certain
I cannot try any of my new treatments on him.”
“Yes, doctor.” That voice was soooo sexy!
Bruce didn’t care about treatments. He cared about pain, and he cared about that
voice, because when he heard the voice, the pain went away, just for a few seconds, like.
“Report to me if there is any change,” the man’s voice said.
“Yes, Dr. Nance,” said the sexy voice.
A door closed, and Bruce heard breathing, and smelled the enticing smell of
shampoo, and perfume. It was Chanel Number 5.
He opened his eyes.
All he saw was the roundest, firmest pair of tittles he’d ever seen in his life, all
enclosed in a crisp white nurse’s uniform.
I’m in heaven, he said. No, he tried to say, but his voice wouldn’t work, his
mouth was dry, and there was some terrible tube thing in his nose—and hey, what’s that
thing in his dick? It hurts!
The tits bounced like Aunt Alice’s molded jello back at home, and then moved
away. Oh. She was just straightening the covers on the bed.
Bed.
Bruce realized he laid in a bed, his left arm being strapped down, with something
sticking an up-a tube--on the top of his hand.
Bruce looked up. The tits belonged to a beautiful face carved out of ice and whipped
cream, with a pair of glowing emerald eyes. Around that perfect face was brown hair
like one of those super models, all puffed up.
“Oh, you’re awake, Mr. Lucent,” said the sexy nurse.
Bruce worked his lips, but couldn’t speak.
“Well, Mr. Lucent,” the sexy voice went on. “You are probably wondering what
you are doing here, honey chile.” He realized the voice had the accent of a sexy
Southern peach. “You were in an auto accident, Mr. Lucent, but don’t worry. You’ll be
jess fine. This here is the finest hospital in Atlanta, and you are in the care of the finest
doctor, Dr. Arthur Eastman.”

Sympathise with me, indeed! Ah, no! Cast your sympathy on the chill
waves of troubled waters; fling it on the oases of futurity; dash it
against the rock of gossip; or, better still, allow it to remain within
the false and faithless bosom of buried scorn.

Such were a few remarks of Irene as she paced the beach of limited
freedom, alone and unprotected. Sympathy can wound the breast of trodden
patience,--it hath no rival to insure the feelings we possess, save that
of sorrow.

ansible.uk/misc/eyeargon.html

can highly recommend

knowyourmeme.com/memes/doom-repercussions-of-evil?full=1

This is hilarious

Knuckles glides north 1500 feet above Lake Sakakawea at 800 mph
following Highway 83. A small thunderstorm is somewhat visible to the south.
The sky is 3/8 scattered with cirrus clouds and 1/8 scattered with altostratus
clouds. The wind is 15 mph with gusts to 20 mph. A few small patches of snow
in ditches, some with water, are visible but hard to see due to the speed. A 40-
second pause in speech occurs while credits display on screen.

Knuckles resembles a human, but with differences. Knuckles is
neither male nor female, though referred to as a “he”. Three-quarter-inch-thick
dark-violet-colored (FFA000E0) fur covers his entire body. He is only 25 1/3 inch-
es tall, 4 inches wide, and 2.5 inches deep. Knuckles gets his name from his large
hands, 40% bigger than a human his size would have. A reflective, glittery, green-
ish (FFA0FF00) haze a half millimeter across borders his pupil. Knuckles has no
nose and a mouth 2/3 as big. Every other aspect of his is that of what a human
would have for his size. For details on the numerical colors (in parentheses), see
appendix 5.

It's better than my writing though.

Am I retarded if I really enjoyed this

if you're really interested then there is a book about bad books
there are so many good books in the world i don't know why you would want to read them tho
watching bad films is more of a social pastime. people watch them together or if they do watch them alone it's only so they can talk about it afterwards
also many bad films have naked women in them which doesn't hurt

English as she is Spoke

>Film buffs have no problem and often enjoy watching objectively low quality films like pic related.

I wish that were true desu. And Tao Lin is obviously somebody you should look at.

MOSSACK! DISHA, DISHA.

Films can be watched as a collective experience, so people can laugh along or make jokes at the movie's expense. Books are solitary, so a bad book is just boring.

There's definitely a possible collective experience with reading; you just need people willing to all read the same thing. I read a Wiki article the other day about some artistic movement from the early 20th century where it discussed how every time a group of them met up they'd quote lines from the same book. Sounded like they were doing it for fun and not to sound like beatniks. Might have been Ulysses but don't quote me on it.

Also, what about Infinite Jest? That's THE collective Veeky Forums experience right there.

Short crappy fanfiction.

>Film buffs have no problem and often enjoy watching objectively low quality films like pic related
nah

Now that's a meme I haven't seen in a long time... a long time.

Dresden Files.
It's fucking awful, HOWEVER, it's so complex in it's awfulness, that it actually becomes a coherent and consistent psychological epic about a man who stagnated emotionally at 16 due to trauma. Imagining that he's fucking crazy and hallucinating all the fucking magic makes it even more fun

Dang I came in to post this. Nice man.

...

>"I am no longer Scrumblegort."
oh boy

>WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS!”
Every time

I once accidentally ran across a book for sale online titles Ass Goblins of Auschwitz. I imagine there's some humor there.

a friend of mine read it in high school (because it's absolutely something high schoolers would love) and he said it was pretty okay.

The Amazon preview seemed rather dull. It seems all title no substance.

i didn't read it because i couldn't be fucked lmao. i also didn't read much in high school.

although, this friend has gotten me into other good stuff, so i didn't have any duds to dismiss his suggestion over

Mildly amusing at first, but it gets very old very fast.

kek

>Steak
A steak is a cut of meat meant to be cooked and eaten. Another important use of steak is to kill vampires, because it is one of the only two things that can kill a vampire, the other being a C-R-O-S-S.

>Appearances
First mentioned Chapter 10, while Ebony is justifying why Draco can not die from wrist cutting.

Chapter 11, where Ebony contemplates suicide after learning Draco has died from wrist cutting.

Chapter 40, in which Ebony attempts suicide after witnessing Draco performing sexual acts with Snap.

>I ran suicidally to my room I sexily took a steak out.

“it was a dark and stormy night...”

The alleged author of this mess surfaced, has published books, and claims this was satire from day 1.

Tommy tried the satire claim too.

>The alleged author of this mess surfaced, has published books, and claims this was satire from day 1.
It was proven that she DIDN'T write it, and in fact, lied about fucking everything. She's not any oppressed ethnicity (native american, I think), she was never in the system, and her brother was never lost. She sees him all the time.

Literally everything she ever claimed or wrote about was completely made up, which is literally the single most perfect conclusion of that little side story.

It's still a mystery, nobody has any fucking idea, and now there's even more intrigue and mystery because of the supposed "solving of the mystery" AND because it was a fucking con artist the whole time.

Fantastic. I hope we never find out. It's the easter island, and giant squid of our generation. I better die first, or I'll be pissed.

Oh thank GOD user you made my day I couldn't accept that cunt as the true Tara

I know right!? When it came out that she was a fraud, I think I punched the air. Fuck yeah. The mystery continues.

These are the most nu-male posts I have ever laid my eyes upon while on Veeky Forums

have you filtered your own or something?

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Not only are you a newfag you're a humorless newfag.
>>>r_bbc