“Jeremy spoke in class today”
—Pearl Jam, ‘Jeremy’
Why don’t you like the idea of my type knowing what we’re on about?
Why don’t you like the idea of my type knowing how the books work?
It’s like we can string sentences together.
It’s like if you listened—if you let us breathe—you’d hear that we can talk and you’d know that we know what we mean; that we make sense.
And it’s like you do exactly what you charge those powerful ones over there with: you think we couldn’t possibly understand what is going on.
But we do, we just consciously don’t give a shit, because how dull is it to argue over the amount of literature writers should be reading?
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