The fall of the house of Usher

Ok i just finished the fall of the house of usher

It certainly boasts numerous commendable elements, with Flanagan's clear intention to pay homage to Edgar Allan Poe through a plethora of references to both his renowned and lesser-known works.

Consistently, trauma and notoriety act as catalysts for the protagonists' dilemmas. Flanagan adeptly interweaves thought-provoking social commentary into his narratives, a sentiment I concur with.

However, my primary concern lies in the fact that while I appreciate his work, I yearn for a more horror experience. Especially when dealing with Poe's themes, I anticipate a stronger infusion of horror and eeriness.

I don't foresee myself watching his work and saying , 'I don't like it.' Nevertheless, his creations are undeniably of high quality. Yet, they haven't managed to elicit an exceptional response from me. It's disheartening when you possess a deep affection for horror literature, which I'm sure he's well-versed in, but the hair-raising thrill remains elusive for the audience.

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade? No. First you roll out a multi-media campaign to convince people lemons are incredibly scarce, which only works if you stockpile lemons, control the supply, then a media blitz. Lemon is the only way to say “I love you,” the must-have accessory for engagements or anniversaries. Roses are out, lemons are in. Billboards that say she won’t have sex with you unless you got lemons. You cut De Beers in on it. Limited edition lemon bracelets, yellow diamonds called lemon drops. You get Apple to call their new operating system OS-Lemón. A little accent over the “o.” You charge 40% more for organic lemons, 50% more for conflict-free lemons. You pack the Capitol with lemon lobbyists, you get a Kardashian to suck a lemon wedge in a leaked sex tape. Timotheé Chalamet wears lemon shoes at Cannes. Get a hashtag campaign. Something isn’t “cool” or “tight” or “awesome,” no, it’s “lemon.” “Did you see that movie? Did you see that concert? It was effing lemon.” Billie Eilish, “OMG, hashtag… lemon.” You get Dr. Oz to recommend four lemons a day and a lemon suppository supplement to get rid of toxins ‘cause there’s nothing scarier than toxins. Then you patent the seeds. You write a line of genetic code that makes the lemons look just a little more like tits… and you get a gene patent for the tit-lemon DNA sequence, you cross-pollinate… you get those seeds circulating in the wild, and then you sue the farmer for copyright infringement when that genetic code shows up on their land. Sit back, rake in the millions, and then, when you’re done, and you’ve sold your lem-pire for a few billion dollars, then, and only then, you make some fucking lemonade.