Kthaahthikha

I finally did it. After long months of struggling against his Siren call, I went out and borrowed GRR Martin's A Game of Thrones. And what's more, I don't hate it. It's not quite as I'd expected (although very close to my mental image), but quite entertaining nonetheless. Also, numerous people had complained about a lack of magic in the series. This has failed to impress itself upon me, no doubt due to my being readily-distracted by the attack by revenants, the giant, mystically-linked wolf, and the wall of ice.

That said, I have been reduced to listening to the audio book version, and at nineteen large cassettes, it is a daunting sight to this traveller still weary from the road.

This painting is the subject of three short poems that I must write for my Literature assignment. It is called The Sleeping Venus, by Paul Delvaux. And on the subject of Literature, Bram Stoker's Dracula is one of the vaguest, most poorly-grounded and down-right hypocritical films I have ever seen, although it helped to pass the time. I can't believe I used to enjoy it thoroughly (although the visuals are still pretty nice ten years on). There is an excellent disection of the piece as compared to the novel and to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein here