Saturday, July 11, 2015

Atticus Finch Is A Racist In "To Kill A Mockingbird" Sequel

The beloved lawyer from To Kill A Mockingbird is depicted as a cantankerous old bigot in Harper Lee’s new novel, Go Set a Watchman.

Actors Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch and Brock Peters as Tom Robinson in the film To Kill a Mockingbird.

Silver Screen Collection / Getty Images

Harper Lee's Pulitzer-winning 1960 novel focuses on 6-year-old Scout Finch, Atticus' daughter, and tells the story of a trial for Tom Robinson, a black man falsely accused of raping a white woman. Atticus is Robinson's attorney and is portrayed as a moral and decent man who believes in justice.

Atticus' moral rectitude was further cemented by Gregory Peck's iconic 1962 performance in the film adaptation of the book.


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Henry Fraser can only use his mouth to hold a paintbrush, but he doesn’t let that stop him.


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Joyce Carol Oates On The Blurred Line Between Fiction And Reality

David J. Bertozzi / BuzzFeed

When Joyce Carol Oates moved to Princeton, New Jersey, a few years ago, she never thought she'd find herself at the center of a stalking mystery drama in real life. But as the award-winning author of over 40 books has since discovered, the lines between fiction and reality are often blurred.

Jack of Spades: A Tale of Suspense (published by Mysterious Press in May) is Oates' latest novel loosely based on these real-life events. Andrew J. Rush, the story's main character, is a successful author who writes commercial thriller novels while living in a New Jersey town with his family. Rush has his fair share of secrets, including the fact that he's been writing even darker novels under a pseudonym, and struggles with a court case brought on by an elderly neighbor who accuses him of plagiarizing her work.

BuzzFeed had the chance to ask Oates about the chilling true story behind her novel. Here's what she had to say:

BuzzFeed: What made you want to tell this story about Jack of Spades and Andrew J. Rush?

Joyce Carol Oates: Most of my projects grow out of a number of motives. This one had been in my files for some years; I had an experience that was very unsettling and somewhat mysterious which serves as the germ of the story. Jack of Spades is slightly based on a real experience and then I took it to an imaginative possibility.

What happened to you in real life?

JCO: When I first moved to Princeton, New Jersey, I started receiving some strange attention from someone you would call a stalker. She was an older woman — she may not be alive any longer — and she did not stalk me physically. She didn’t come to my house, but she stalked me indirectly. One of the things she did was she went to the local courthouse and accused me of breaking into her home to steal ideas for my writing. She thought my writing mirrored things about herself and her life. I had a lawyer and then I discovered, just as the main character in the novel does, that she had been stalking Stephen King as well. It turned out that I was a lesser interest of hers and Stephen King was her major interest. She was mostly stalking Stephen King for years but because I moved to Princeton, where she also lived, she may have thought that was some coincidence or that it was suspicious. Stephen King and I communicated about this and Stephen was very worried — he thought she might actually go to Maine and threaten his children — so he hired a private detective to investigate her and see whether she really was dangerous. They concluded that she probably was not dangerous; she was a severely psychotic person but she didn’t have a record of hurting anybody. She also was stalking John Updike and Norman Mailer but, again, not in a physical way; she was fixated upon these authors in a psychotic way and we didn't know why. Eventually it just kind of faded away. That's what gave me the idea to write Jack of Spades, but I didn’t write it for a long time.

Why did you write it?

JCO: I have a lot of projects that I’m working on. I also was not sure if this person was alive anymore and I really didn't want to stir up her antagonism; she’s obviously very unbalanced and I don’t want her coming after me again. The story's main character, Andrew Rush, has a dual personality — he has a darker side to him that comes out as a result of this experience — and this part of the fiction doesn't correspond with my own experience and reaction when this happened to me. But I was still concerned and worried because she didn’t live far away from me. I have met people who have had stalkers and there’s really a spectrum. Some are really just intense fans — they really like somebody’s work and turn up regularly — then it goes along the spectrum towards people who show more dangerous behavior, and then at the farthest extreme they might want to kill you.

Jack of Spades largely deals with ideas about plagiarism and taking ideas without exactly being conscious of it. Andrew Rush and Jack of Spades are extreme cases of this, but do you ever fear that another piece of writing might subconsciously seep into your brain and you’d emulate it too closely?

JCO: Not really; I’m not too worried about that myself. When I write, I take an idea, explore that idea, and push it to an extreme. It’s like a philosophical quest — we take ideas and possibilities and then explore them. It’s like an exercise of pure intellect to push an idea and see the different sides of it.

How does this relate to the novel?

JCO: The main character is uncertain about his reputation. He’s not a literary writer, he’s a commercial and mystery writer, who's still not as good as someone like Stephen King. He does sell millions of copies of his books, but it’s all relative, because in that world, to sell 1 million copies is not to sell 10 million outside of commercial mystery. Because of some of these insecurities, Andrew Rush is not certain of his identity. There's also a backstory where he had a brother and was inadvertently responsible for this brother’s death. When he thinks about it over and over again, he feels guilty, as one would.

David J. Bertozzi / Andrew Richard / BuzzFeed

Before the book starts, you quote Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Imp of the Perverse” and write, “We stand upon the brink of a precipice. We peer into the abyss — we grow sick and dizzy. Our first impulse is to shrink from the danger. Unaccountably we remain.” What do you want the reader to take away from that quote?

JCO: Poe wrote about ideas that are still being discussed and analyzed today. If you interpret “The Imp of the Perverse” into contemporary terms, there could be a bipolar situation where a person has a fairly clear and analytical mind based in reality most of the time, but then there’s this swing to extreme depression or mania where the coherence of their personalities unwinds and there’s a self-destructive, autoimmune illness where they're attacking their own self. I think many people display that self-destruction, and I think whole cultures and some nations — even civilizations — have this self-destructive impulse.

Was Jack of Spades fun for you to write?

JCO: Yes, I actually wrote this book when I was living on West Houston Street about two years ago when I taught at NYU. I lived on the 24th floor of this nice building and I had a beautiful view of West Houston Street. When I was writing, there was a lot of snow — I have pictures of this — and I'd watch the snow come down through the window. Then when I would go out to teach on West 10th Street, I'd feel the wind and the cold temperatures. That whole experience is a part of the novel for me, that experience of being in New York City, though there’s not much about New York City in Jack of Spades. I write a lot about possibilities rather than autobiographical things.

In Jack of Spades you also mention that Rush’s daughter was a linguistics and literary theory major at Brown. Since you were an English major at Syracuse University, is there an important lesson you remember learning while you were there?

JCO: I think it’s less about the specific school you attend and more about how old you are when you start discovering important, life-changing books and authors. Between the ages of 18 and 21 is a very volatile time. Overall, I had great teachers and it was just really wonderful. Since then, I’ve taught at many universities, and the university atmosphere and experience is truly unique. Some people might consider it useless in commercial terms, but it’s very revitalizing and extraordinary for individuals.

What book did you read in your formative years that changed your life?

JCO: I read Nietzsche when I was only 18 and I had never heard of Nietzsche before. When I was at Syracuse I minored in philosophy and did a lot of reading on the subject. Philosophy is basically about methodology rather than content; it’s a way of looking at the world and teaches you to question, be skeptical, and not take easy answers. Sometimes it means not taking any answers at all. Those ideas came to me [after I read Nietzsche] when I was 18 and influenced how I think about art and literature.

If you could go back in time and tell your teenage self anything, what would you say?

JCO: Most young people are somewhat insecure, so I’m sure that I was insecure. If we could tell our younger selves that things would turn out all right, that would be a good thing. But maybe a sense of faint anxiety about the future is a necessary part of being younger, and maybe that’s a good thing, too. It might be better not to interfere with the younger self at all.

Jack of Spades: A Tale of Suspense is on sale now.

Jack of Spades: A Tale of Suspense is on sale now.

Grove Press

LINK: Joyce Carol Oates Has The Most Inspiring Writing Advice For Authors

“No evidence of bulk orders or sales through any retailer or organization,” says the publisher, in a rare rebuttal to the all-powerful Times.

Richard Ellis / Getty Images

Publishing giant HarperCollins is publicly pushing back against the New York Times' claim that Ted Cruz's new book, A Time For Truth, was disqualified from its bestseller list because sales were limited to "strategic bulk purchases."

In a statement provided to BuzzFeed News, HarperCollins publicity director Tina Andreadis said the company looked into the matter and "found no evidence of bulk orders or sales through any retailer or organization."

It is common practice for politicians to try to game the Times' prestigious bestseller list by having their campaigns or political action committees buy up thousands of copies of their books. When Cruz's book was left off the list this week despite outselling many of the entries that did make it, the paper's spokesperson justified the omission by telling Politico they found an "overwhelming preponderance of evidence" that the sales numbers were being padded by bulk purchases.

By publicly refuting the Times' claim , HarperCollins is taking on one of the most influential forces in the publishing industry — an exceedingly rare move for any large publisher.

Here is Andreadis' complete statement:

HarperCollins Publishers has investigated the sales pattern for Ted Cruz's book A TIME FOR TRUTH and has found no evidence of bulk orders or sales through any retailer or organization.

When questioned about the omission of A TIME FOR TRUTH from its bestseller list, the New York Times told Politico, "In the case of this book, the overwhelming preponderance of evidence was that sales were limited to strategic bulk purchases."

A TIME FOR TRUTH ranked high on other publishing industry bestseller lists including Nielsen Bookscan (#4), a subscription service that tracks the vast majority of book sales in America, The Wall Street Journal (#4) and Barnes and Noble (#7). All these outlets omit bulk orders books from their rankings.

The Minions In Me

A short story of a woman whose Tinder date turns into a full-on Minion orgy. [NSFW obvs.]

Dan Meth / BuzzFeed

Katie stood at the supervillain's door, checking her reflection in the window. With her dark lipstick and purple eyeshadow exaggerating her best features, she felt like a sexy cartoon character. After a final adjustment of her ink-black hair, she knocked.

Felatious Gru was immediately recognizable. The world's greatest villain, all the television networks called him. He looked a lot shorter in person.

"Katie! It is a pleasure," he said in a nonspecific eastern European accent. "I could not resist when your lovely profile repeatedly came up on my Tinder application."

"And how could I resist a swipe right from the world's greatest villain?" said Katie.

Gru's pale cheeks turned pink. From between them stuck a long, pointed nose. His beady eyes were topped with bushy eyebrows, which were the only hairs on an ovoid head that looked like it had been stomped on. His stick legs angled up to a lumpy torso, like somebody had filled a black sock with cottage cheese then swung it around until it bunched in one end. Not exactly a dad bod on this one.

"You do flatter me," said Gru as he led her inside. They entered a luxurious dining room lined with the mounted heads of extinct animals. An expensive-looking meal waited on the table.

"I thought we could eat before … getting down to business," said Gru.

"Oh mister Gru, a real date? You're so old fashioned."

They made small talk as Katie picked at her meal. Honestly, this supervillain was super disappointing. He droned on about his cold mother and troubled childhood and precious feelings. Yawn.

"I hear you stole the Golden Gate Bridge," she said, interrupting him in hopes of drifting to something fun.

Something brushed her leg underneath the table.

"Yes! I was driving across, and thought, lightbulb! I can use my bubble cannon to encase the bridge in a giant sphere, then float it to my secret lair. Real shame that everyone on it slowly suffocated to death."

Something rubbery caressed Katie's ankle. Did he have a cat? Stifled giggling floated from under the table. She gasped when she looked down and spotted an eye staring from the darkness.

Mistaking her gasp as a reaction to him, Gru continued: "Come now, you know who I am. Women, they date me for my money, but have no interest in accepting the real me. Just like my mother."

It took everything Katie had to keep herself from ducking under the table to see what was crawling around down there, having way more fun than she was.

Instead, she flashed him an animated smile. "I know who you are. You can trust me." She reached across the table and patted his hand. His face relaxed, but turned to annoyance as his phone rang.

He took the phone to the next room, but she could still hear every word.

"I'm a bit busy, can you … what? Pharrell who? Pharrell Williams?"

The table cloth billowed, and a creature hopped onto Katie's lap. He looked like a two-foot-high yellow pill with stubby appendages, wearing blue overalls and, over a single eye, goggles. Er, a goggle.

He was one of Gru's famous minions. She'd seen them on the news. The screaming cornpops who are tearing apart society, the headlines not-so-kindly called them.

"Not the unicorn again," grumbled Gru into the phone in the other room.

The minion produced a flower from the back of his overalls and handed it to Katie. She took it, smiling as the robotic flower's petals spun around, then patted his head. He purred.
Katie held a finger to her lips. "Shhh, your master doesn't want you here."

Gru hung up. Before he could return and catch the minion, she shoved him back under the table.

"So sorry, so sorry," said Gru. "It's Pharrell Williams again. He's riding a unicorn that is so fluffy that those who look at it die immediately. Too much fluff, you see."

"Mmm hmm," said Katie. Her skirt had ridden up, and she felt the minion's breath against her thighs.

Gru's face twisted with jealousy. "Pharrell sings catchy songs to attract crowds. He's wearing his giant hat, so people see the hat, and they say damn, that's a big hat! By the time they notice the unicorn, it's too late. They're dead from fluff. It's the perfect supervillain plot."

"You're not going to let him upstage you," said Katie, trying to keep her composure, but she couldn't help guiding the minion toward her moistening love muffin. She could tell from the smacking of his lips that he wanted to get closer.

"No, of course not! Sorry, but I must go defend my title."

Katie feigned disappointment, which was difficult to pull off with the minion's floppy tongue exploring her pleasure taco. "Too bad," she said. "We were just getting started."

Gru edged toward the door as Katie remained sitting. He grabbed a few gadgets and his striped scarf. "Maybe … maybe you could stay here and wait, so we can continue our date later?"

"Oh!" shouted Katie as the minion hit her sweet spot. In truth. the date was horrible. This dude was a murderer, and also, hadn't asked her a single question about herself. But she wanted—no, needed—to stick around and find out more about these minions. "Oh yes! Sounds like a plan." Gru dashed away.

Dan Meth / BuzzFeed

Finally! She pulled back her chair to get a better look at the minion who was so skillfully eating her out.

"Bapple!" the minion said. Its goggle was smeared with her pulpy love juice.
"You think I taste like apples? How sweet of you."

A grate in the ceiling flipped open, and two more minions tumbled into the room. These ones had two eyes, and one of them was short and squat, while the other was taller, like a yellow cocktail sausage.

The tall one smacked the one-eyed one. "Jort! Malo!" he said.

The pussy-eater, whose name was apparently Jort, fell over. He and the tall one got into a slap-fight, rolling on the floor like a fucked up yellow tumbleweed. When the they were done, the three of them stood there with their dumb, gaping faces.
"Sooo," she said. "What's the deal with you guys?"

"Blab!" said Jort.

"A lab? Can you show me?" asked Katie.

Their faces lit up. They got behind her and pushed her toward one of the room's many doors. The feeling of their six little gloved hands shoving at her butt tickled her in a strange way.

She was ushered into an elevator, which took them to an expansive underground laboratory. Dozens of minions worked at various tables full of sizzling beakers and dismantled electronics. Sparks and explosions lit the air, and it smelled like greasy ozone. Aerial drones whizzed overhead. They continued pushing her on until they reached a featureless yellow surface in one corner of the room.

Katie bit her lip. "Look, guys, this lab is cool and all, but I'll level with you. I was all horned up for a Tinder date, and your boss is lame. You gonna show me your dicks or what?"

The three of them laughed. The tall one punched the short one in the face and said "Norge! Butt!"

Norge held up a panel with a single red button. He giggled maniacally. "Butt!" he shouted, then pressed it.

A panel in the floor opened and a heart-shaped bed popped out of it. The lights dimmed and a disco ball started turning. Alcoves opened in the walls, each full of phallic gadgets.

"Whoa, you guys are way ahead of me! You have your own sex dungeon! Rad."
The minions giggled. Jort pointed at the back of Katie's skirt. "Butt!" he said.

"You want me to go first? You horny little fuckers!" said Katie. She slipped her panties off, then crawled onto the bed. The minions fell silent as they stared at her with their vacant eyes.

She raised her ass in the air, then flipped up the back of her skirt, giving them a peek at her glistening pussy and bare ass.

The minions burst out in laughter again. "Butt!" they all said in unison, which made them laugh harder.

It was infectious. Katie flipped over and caught her breath after a fit of giggles. "Get over here you fucking idiots!" They obediently hopped onto the bed. "I've seen what your mouths can do. Now get to work, minions."


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