Sour Grapes

I must confess to being rather tired of reading one famous author sounding off about how awful other famous authors are. I've mentioned before that I wish Philip Pullman would count his millions and SHUT UP about CS Lewis. Now we have VS Naipaul lambasting everyone from Jane Austen to Henry James, EM Forster, Hardy, Joyce, Dickens and Hemingway (well, I agree with him about Hemingway, but that's beside the point). All he really succeeds in doing is making himself look silly, I think. And whiny, because his books don't sell well in his own country. Well, he can't force people to buy or read his work. And he's certainly not going to win legions of fans by sounding off about how great he is in comparison to all these others... Harold Pinter can breathe a sigh of relief, though; apparently Naipaul approves of him.

Hip hip hooray!

I'm getting a NEW hip... better than before... Probably in June, maybe July depending on if I have to teach in May/June to make up for being off this term. It means that I won't get much of a holiday this year, but then a holiday wouldn't be much good in pain and hardly able to walk. NEXT year, there'll be no stopping me! Never thought I'd be so pleased at the prospect of having surgery. Yay!!!

I think I'd rather go to heaven, thanks...

this sounds too much like work...
(thanks to lalouve for the quiz)
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