A couple of weeks ago, I was called a literary snob.  At first I got a little pissed off and then was told that it was a compliment.  I have no real interest in contemporary literature; I'll read contemporary non-fiction, but that's about it.  Since Harry Potter seems to come up in every lit class, I might have to see what all the hoopla is about.  However, last week I tried to open my horizon and read Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian.
       It was alright, had a lot of violence and a decent plot.  But, spoiler alert, the last page the "judge" danced and danced the night away and said he was never going to die because he never sleeps.  Everywhere I look, I'm seeing death right now. 
    We've talked about a lot of deep issues in class this semester and luckily without reaching any answers.  Gerrit has a good argument on accepting any one true religion.  If you were so sure about a religion and have all the answers, then what's the point of living and picking up new knowledge-he says it better than I plagarize.
     What I've taken the most from this class is to just do it and make heat, don't put off anything for tomorrow, and its not what you do, but what you read.  I'll stick to reading what I like.