Odd everything

Mostly dead things

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humansofnewyork:

"My mother had a painting of herself hanging in the living room, if that tells you anything. She always thought she knew the best for everyone. If she gave you money or gifts, you’d soon learn that she was buying admission into your life. I’d never accept anything from her. If she paid for the flowers at your wedding, for example, she’d feel entitled to comment on the rest of your arrangements. It was so clear to her how everyone else should be living their life. I made a lot of bad decisions in life— just to keep her from getting her way.""Do you resent her?""Sure I do. We never had a conversation that wasn’t part of her agenda."

humansofnewyork:

"My mother had a painting of herself hanging in the living room, if that tells you anything. She always thought she knew the best for everyone. If she gave you money or gifts, you’d soon learn that she was buying admission into your life. I’d never accept anything from her. If she paid for the flowers at your wedding, for example, she’d feel entitled to comment on the rest of your arrangements. It was so clear to her how everyone else should be living their life. I made a lot of bad decisions in life— just to keep her from getting her way."
"Do you resent her?"
"Sure I do. We never had a conversation that wasn’t part of her agenda."

1 note &

Decided to start posting links to my reviews over here, too.  Latest I Read Odd Books entry discusses Stupid Children by Lenore Zion.  

Review snippet: 

Jane does go into the room with the black door, and one of the most upsetting scenes I’ve read recently ensues:

Because I knew nothing of mental impurities, I hushed my misgivings about the methods Madam Six and the others exercised in flushing me of these contaminants, and kept quiet as two deflated, worm-shaped balloons were systematically inserted into my nostrils – one balloon per nostril.  I continued to silence myself as a motorized inflation device was placed into the ends of the balloons, and muzzled my impulse to cry for help when I was forced down on my back, and held firmly in place by three cloaked men, one of whom was Sir Six, my new father.  I could not, however, keep myself quiet when the motorized inflation device was switched on and the balloons rapidly distended inside my nostrils, causing my nose to break instantly.  Blood came pouring out from inside me, and seeped into my mouth.

In a case of strange coincidence, I read the following passage just after Mr. Oddbooks blew a capillary in his nose and needed a “rhino-rocket” inserted into his nasal cavity.  The ER doc refused to listen that he had over-inflated it, and I watched helplessly as Mr. Oddbooks exhibited pain-related aggression.  Only intense pain prevented him from taking a swing at someone, anyone. When the doc left the room, I had to fish a syringe out of the trash and partially deflate the balloon.  Mr. Oddbooks is not a bad ass but he was stabbed once and served his country in a foreign conflict.  He’s not a man given to the level of complaint you have all grown to expect from me, and he described the inflation of the rhino rocket as torture (note to any ER doc who may read this – give the shot of painkiller before you insert the goddamned rhino rocket).  Reading the above happen to a little girl was so upsetting to me I almost quit reading this book, but I persevered because I figured the rest of the content of the book would not be so strangely specific to my experiences.

You can read the entire discussion over on IROB.

656 notes &

I have only one rule when dealing with the enemy. Give them nothing. Not solace, not mercy, not kindness, not torment, not provisions, and - most assuredly - not satisfaction.

Bane, Secret Six #05

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