Political classics and their dystopian forshadowing

It is the term 1-2 holidays. For once, it has sped away from my fingertips faster than I could grasp the first weekend. Why is it that modern fantasies are so much more easier to read than political satires such as Nineteen Eighty-Four? That one I've tried to begin multiple times. I've gotten about a third of the way each time. Never finished. Animal Farm I have finished; The Handmaid's Tale (for school) also; Brave New World was easier than 1984 but now has halted to a sluggish heave as I realise the horror it speaks of.
I find Brave New World worse than The Handmaid's Tale. Aldous Huxley was probably a sick hermit who was shunned by all in his time; either that, or he had such an elaborate imagination and perceptive foresight that we will one day make sniding remarks at our own social morals.

If you have read any of these afore mentioned books, you will come to understand that the major theme of study this year is Dystopia. Of all the themes our English teachers could have chosen, they chose the horrific, stark nakedly satirical one, the one that, once you read any books of such flavour, will never look at the world the same again.
Because - scarily enough - these books may foreshadow the turn of the next century.
On the other hand, our school always gets a truckload of English scholarships at the end of the year, because The Handmaid's Tale works so well. Let's trust the teachers.

Stephenie Meyer - does she know her stuff?

They say Twilight is the new Harry Potter.
I disagree.
Rather, it is a series of fantasy novels set in a less fantastic world in which a supernatural creature (or two) provide an average teenager with the utmost passionate and unconditional devotion.
It is this, which we teenage girls crave, that makes us so drawn to Edward's honey-voice and melting eyes and stiflingly sweet scent.
The relationship between Edward and Bella is (other than for obvious reasons) rare. Which young female of the 21st century (or any century) doesn't pine for their prince to sweep them off their feet? Perhaps the notion of a perfectly stunning vampire-boy being the prince is a new age thing. Still, I would believe it rare to find a single (as in, not in a relationship) girl who would like to be Bella for a day. Even some of my partnered female friends now have higher expectations of their boyfriends, much to *his* dismay.
Yet there's no need to get all swoony at Robert Pattinson.
I do not consider myself a raving fanatic, I don't have posters of the characters plastered all over my wall, I haven't paid to see the first film, I wait patiently (ok maybe not sooo patiently) for the library reserved list to shorten as it reaches my turn.
But I do find myself encapsulated in a pleasant bubble when I read Meyer's creation, indeed reading New Moon is more exciting than tackling that yet-to-be-knuckled-down essay.

Let the series live on, and sate the 21st century girl's thirst for romance.

It's that time of year again...

I find myself picking feijoas off the ground again, from our back yard, and from the side of the road (their ones are sweeter).
Feijoa season again! (How kiwi.)
Suddenly I remember writing an other blog about feijoas.
Has it really been a year since the dawn of Kotassium's brain?
Delightful.

Hasn't blossomed much has it.
I am however proud of how much I can waffle.