- me: this book brutally ripped out my heart and tore it to shreds then stomped it into the ground as i drowned in a sea of my tears and basked in eternal sorrow
- me: here read it
Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.
—The Fault in Our Stars
My thoughts are stars I can’t fathom into constellations.
Sometimes you read a book that is so far beyond anything you could ever describe… You just know that words could never quite do your feelings justice. Nor would it be enough for the book itself or even the author.
There is something to be said when multiple works of the same author bring you this feeling. No, not feeling. State of… Being.
John Green, thank you for everything.
See, the thing I love about these guys on YouTube, is that they can be ridiculously silly, but also brilliant and serious.
Hank Green has been filmed humping his town, getting drunk on Strawberry Hill and corndogs, but runs ecogeek.com, makes videos with NASA, talks about bias and human nature.
John Green plays with choirs of Sing-a-majigs, talks repeatedly about the idea of an evil baby orphanage, and makes up phrases like “french the llama”, but he is a brilliant writer, and speaks at length analyzing the economy, history, and literature. He also makes videos documenting the cities he goes to, both the funny things he seeing and musing from trivial to deep and meaningful.
And Charlie McDonnell takes challenges to eat strange things pretends to be a robot, but he makes videos scientifically explaining light and the way it works.
The Fault in Our Stars, at the moment.
John, I think I know what happened….
The Fault in Our Stars
What do you guys think?
John Green could name it “This Book is Total Shit” and I would still want to read it.