I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.
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Monday, July 25
DISCLAIMER: POTTER FANS, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM PUTTING ME ON A BURNING STAKE
Why is it that when one goes bowling, one always picks the lane next to the fuckin' pros? Same principle applies to miniature golf, Chuck E. Cheese's, and all other family fun centers.
Anyway, the world is Potter crazy! Sure, the Harry Potter excitement has much time until it, well, fades away until the next release, but I don't have a problem with the book hype; I mean, as long as millions of kids are reading fat books instead of playing video games, I'm happy.
But I got to pondering the other night. My head was hurting, but my mother told me it was the process of thinking. So I figured I was onto something.
Okay, let's say, hypothetically, J.K. Rowling dies tomorrow. What'll happen for the final book?
There will literally (and I use that word only when necessary) be MILLIONS of fans left disappointed. And, no, she hasn't finished it yet -- according to the TIME article that profiled her success (July 18), she just started putting the pen to action for the final installment.
I can't be the only one who finds this highly, highly, highly amusing on perverse levels. NO, not for someone's death, but for the picture in my head of millions of kids crying simultaneously. That's fun.
Here's another hypothetical.
Okay, let's say, hypothetically, that J.K. Rowling decides not to release the final book out of sheer lack of self-esteem.
It will be the the literary equivalent of Brian Wilson's Smile album (overdue for nearly 40 years). That is if she even decides to put it out after a long time.
Again, millions of kids crying at the same time. Awesome.
A couple days ago The Girlfriend told me about a news report on a guy in England who revealed a critical point in the latest Potter book -- on a public billboard! Apparently, it upset tons of people (you know those Brits, they hate their ruined endings!), and I almost got into a car accident because I was laughing so hard at the wheel. I bet that's, like, my half-brother or something.
Ohmygosh, do I have a half-brother?
Anyway, I hope your hangovers are done for. Hangovers are stupid, you know. Your own goddamn fault.