Snowflake Christine Milneaux - Munchie who came here to sperg [PM sneasel if you wanna do a proper OP on this tard]

Recon said:
Emmeline Grangerford is a 'sentimental' artist.

Huck is inspecting the art of Emmeline and expressing his feelings about them in the text.
If you read Huck’s explanations without examining the underlying meanings you will find that Huck is completely clueless as to the artists’ sentimental intentions. He evaluates one picture called “Shall I Never See Thee More Alas” by describing a woman “under a weeping willow” (Twain 119) in a graveyard, another picture with a woman “crying into a handkerchief”, and yet another with a crying woman about to jump off a bridge. All three of these illustrations are obvious cliches of sentimental art of the 19th century.
Huck looks at the images and simply sees “nice pictures”, not realizing the intent of the artist, Emmeline. His lack of understanding lets Twain shit on purple prose faggotry. Point of the passage is to poke fun at the sentimentalists’. He makes Huck’s similes ugly, such as bulges on a dress looking “like a cabbage” and “black slippers, like a chisel” to mock the tryhard faggotry which was popular at the time that he wrote the book.
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Reading her brand of tortured sentimentalism that can only issue forth from the unread, I often thought of this quote. Just replace "Jane Austen" with "Christine", "books" with "posts", pretend she's dead, and here ya go.

"I often want to criticise Jane Austen, but her books madden me so that I can't conceal my frenzy from the reader; and therefore I have to stop every time I begin. Every time I read 'Pride and Prejudice' I want to dig her up and beat her over the skull with her own shin-bone." -Mark Twain
 
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I swear - wether it's movie night, music sperging or just a good ol' fashunned munch hunt, the best parts of the Farms are the history lessons along the way.

(WTF, I love this thread now)
 
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Recon said:
Another good analogy - Chrissy Munch is the kind of girl who'd wear blackface to a lynching and weep openly.

Emmeline Grangerford is a 'sentimental' artist.

Huck is inspecting the art of Emmeline and expressing his feelings about them in the text.
If you read Huck’s explanations without examining the underlying meanings you will find that Huck is completely clueless as to the artists’ sentimental intentions. He evaluates one picture called “Shall I Never See Thee More Alas” by describing a woman “under a weeping willow” (Twain 119) in a graveyard, another picture with a woman “crying into a handkerchief”, and yet another with a crying woman about to jump off a bridge. All three of these illustrations are obvious cliches of sentimental art of the 19th century.
Huck looks at the images and simply sees “nice pictures”, not realizing the intent of the artist, Emmeline. His lack of understanding lets Twain shit on purple prose faggotry. Point of the passage is to poke fun at the sentimentalists’. He makes Huck’s similes ugly, such as bulges on a dress looking “like a cabbage” and “black slippers, like a chisel” to mock the tryhard faggotry which was popular at the time that he wrote the book.
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That’s the beauty of Mark Twain’s work, he was very plain spoken and raw in his style and maybe it’s just me but that’s far more engaging and powerful than the overly flowery, flog the thesaurus like a redheaded stepchild bullshit that “m’lady” liked to affect.

I know I already mentioned it but one of my favorites, Walt Whitman, was another literary figure from that era who used really plain (some said coarse and vulgar) language and tone... and yet it still had a lot of feeling behind it.

Because I’m a complete sperg like that, Whitman wrote this after volunteering as a nurse during the Civil War. The most “flowery” word in here is “toilsome”. It’s simple and yet pretty damn moving.


As toilsome I wander’d Virginia’s woods,
To the music of rustling leaves kick’d by my feet, (for ’twas autumn,)
I mark’d at the foot of a tree the grave of a soldier;
Mortally wounded he and buried on the retreat, (easily all could understand,)
The halt of a mid-day hour, when up! no time to lose–yet this sign left,
On a tablet scrawl’d and nail’d on the tree by the grave,
“Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.”
Long, long I muse, then on my way go wandering,
Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of life,
Yet at times through changeful season and scene, abrupt, alone, or in the crowded street,
Comes before me the unknown soldier’s grave, comes the inscription rude in Virginia’s woods,
“Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.”
 
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MistressCaridad said:
That’s the beauty of Mark Twain’s work, he was very plain spoken and raw in his style and maybe it’s just me but that’s far more engaging and powerful than the overly flowery, flog the thesaurus like a redheaded stepchild bullshit that “m’lady” liked to affect.

I know I already mentioned it but one of my favorites, Walt Whitman, was another literary figure from that era who used really plain (some said coarse and vulgar) language and tone... and yet it still had a lot of feeling behind it.

Because I’m a complete sperg like that, Whitman wrote this after volunteering as a nurse during the Civil War. The most “flowery” word in here is “toilsome”. It’s simple and yet pretty damn moving.


As toilsome I wander’d Virginia’s woods,
To the music of rustling leaves kick’d by my feet, (for ’twas autumn,)
I mark’d at the foot of a tree the grave of a soldier;
Mortally wounded he and buried on the retreat, (easily all could understand,)
The halt of a mid-day hour, when up! no time to lose–yet this sign left,
On a tablet scrawl’d and nail’d on the tree by the grave,
“Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.”
Long, long I muse, then on my way go wandering,
Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of life,
Yet at times through changeful season and scene, abrupt, alone, or in the crowded street,
Comes before me the unknown soldier’s grave, comes the inscription rude in Virginia’s woods,
“Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.”
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Memento Mori.
But what a clever way to reach it.
That's writing.
 
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Or Else What said:
The shopgirl locks and extreme boarding school training never happened, they were fetish fantasies devised and detailed (in lavishly detailed drawings and long-running stories and pseudo-readers' sent-in experiences) by John Willie in his 1950s magazine Bizarre. Bondage of females was the big thing with him but corsets featured almost as prominently, and especially the BDSM themes of enforced 'training'. Certain features - and the themes represented - were reprinted and discussed and expanded upon in assorted underground fetish mags in the 1970s. Then Taschen (German publishers of inter alia coffee-table pageturners for the classier perv) reprinted the entire run in a 2-volume set in the 1990s. (I have it). Extracts were soon featured on Usenet and so onwards.

John Willie - Wikipedia

en.wikipedia.org en.wikipedia.org

However, 'bodices' and stays for younger girls were a thing from the mid 18th century but were never even a junior version of the stereotype of Victorian/Edwardian tight-lacing. After all, the primary aim of such adult garments then was to support the breasts, and what happened to the midriff, waist and hips varied according to resources, fashion, age and need. Tight-lacing was a distinct thing, discussed in ladies mags and practised (or said to be) by only a few; most mothers frowned upon it, but there were always the carefully retouched photo-portraits of royalty and society ladies to suggest an ideal and pretend to be 'natural' and 'realistic' - the same way that Instagram etc does now. Practically every photograph of the icons of that era had the waist whittle down to an extreme extent, sort of like an early 'Photoshop Fail'.


The link with corsetry was entirely incidental. Tight-lacing was not at all the widespread practice imagined (see spergs supra) . The anaemia was due to female adolescents not getting the iron they needed. Back then girls from poorer families were invariably last priority for the little meat available for family dinners, and girls from more comfortable backgrounds either 1) had mothers whose knowledge of nutrition for children and teens was woeful (basically they were supposed to live on bread and tard cum, and it took WWI and the new science of nutrition for such advice to get the elbow) or 2) not uncommonly used food as a control/weapon in ways similar to today's definitions and practices of EDs. For eg, one craze was the wanting to recline in pallid but soulful brave repose as a Rossetti type overcome by philosophy and oh!everything!.
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So it turns out the more things change, the more things stay exactly the same.

trainer.jpg


corset.jpg
 
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Emmeline Grangerford! I forgot about her! Christine is absolutely her. All her paintings of dainty women weeping and throwing themselves off bridges in the moonlight. And apparently Emmeline wrote a terribly purple tribute poem to everyone in town who was dying, but one time she wasn't able to get there fast enough with her poem before the person was pronounced dead and buried and thus missed out on some of the attention, so she swooned away, became frail and died from it. She sulked herself to death.

Speaking of sulking yourself to death amidst the worse purple prose ever...this bitch MUST be taking the piss. “I hold a frail quivering hand to my forehead and reach for the crystal glass to sip water?” Holy hell, you cannot be serious, Christine.


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You really think I'm like Emmeline Grangerford! My heart, I'm overjoyed!!! She's not Virginia Poe, but she's certainly one of my Opheliac muses.

Eta: as of time of writing, I have still decided against taking my sickstagram to the public eye. Life as an influencer, I've learned, is more than I can digest at present, and indeed into the foreseeable future.
 
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Christine Milneaux said:
You really think I'm like Emmeline Grangerford! My heart, I'm overjoyed!!! She's not Virginia Poe, but she's certainly one of my opheliac muses.
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Yeah you really decided to stay away, well done you.

Unfortunately you’re not much like her because she could paint. You on the other hand...
 
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of course this narrow-minded smooth brain came back as soon as she saw a post that she could latch on to to bolster her non-existent self esteem. a thread full of wonderful conversation and information and the only thing this remora latches on to is something that can make I or Me statements.
 
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Haha, “life as an influencer.” She’s influenced so much lately! Specifically she’s influenced me to give up on my own illustration work and just run bad selfies through a dozen filters in photoshop, use the smudge tool to push it around a bit and call it “painted.”

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Christine Milneaux said:
You really think I'm like Emmeline Grangerford! My heart, I'm overjoyed!!! She's not Virginia Poe, but she's certainly one of my Opheliac muses.

Eta: as of time of writing, I have still decided against taking my sickstagram to the public eye. Life as an influencer, I've learned, is more than I can digest at present, and indeed into the foreseeable future.
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You we’re doing so well staying off of KF.

Seeing that you commented made me physically shake my head.
 
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Christine Milneaux said:
Another virtual/digital painting, dated three years ago:

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No one gives a shit about your photos run through photoshop, and you know it, seeing how many times youve posted on reddit bleating about how you have no talent at anything.

This thread was just getting good but then you had to come back and ruin it.
 
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AbraCadaver said:
Yeah you really decided to stay away, well done you.

Unfortunately you’re not much like her because she could paint. You on the other hand...
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I swear, this bitch also keeps rattling on about Virginia Poe... that hardworking, lively woman who fought to the very end to continue her normal life activities and only stopped her music and housework because she LITERALLY (and I do mean literally) couldn’t sit up anymore... Virginia would be horrified and disgusted that this lazy layabout was using her as an “Opheliac muse” A sad, self absorbed wench who fell into bed and willed herself into sickness Mrs. Poe was not and this ignorant bitch just keeps showing her ignorance.

EDIT: if she’s doxed, nothing will happen because she’s too damn boring for anyone to really care.
 
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