See, the thing with Promethea is that even though I so, horribly, desperately want to read it, even though it's probably very relevant to my life and feelings, even though I know I'll probably learn so much more from it about so many things that are so very important and useful to me, I can't, and I won't be able to for a while, because the government(that already steals 5 hours of my day 5 days a week) demands that I waste even more of my precious leisure time reading crap like Oedipus Rex and
The Stone Angel.
Seriously, read the synopsis of the The Stone Angel and honestly tell me you can think of a book that sounds less appealing to you. You can? Well maybe I should tell you that the 90-year-old main character also happens to be dying of TERMINAL BOWEL CANCER.
And why is this being forced upon me instead of Promethea? Because Promethea is fantasy, and uses pictures, and therefore couldn't possibly have any sort of intellectual relevance in preparing us for the soulless, serious world that we're being forced to "grow up" in.
F*** you, curriculum, I'll decide what makes me smarter.
*throws The Stone Angel out the window and runs to the bookstore*