The ironic poetry of The Grand Budapest Hotel

I saw the movie when it came out, and then for a second time last month, with my parents. If you’ve seen it, you might have found yourself wondering, “what’s up with those poem fragments? are they real?” Well, wonder no further, and thank the random person on the internet who collected them1 (and perhaps also (cough!) your humble curator who stumbled across them).

P.S. It turns out they were all written by Wes Anderson himself

P.P.S. Yes, “Boy with Apple” is obviously not real either

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Media Diet

I’ve always been a media glutton, over-dosing on blogs, movies, videos, and such. As of a few weeks ago, I sort of quit cold turkey1. No news, no blogs, nothing. Yes, even the New York Times, which is the one thing I read daily, is no longer a real habit2.

A good side effect of this is that while I read less stuff, I read it more thoroughly and I have more fun reading it.

So here’s a plan: I’ll post a list of ten things I read every month (yes, the things that are read are so few I can count them on the fingers of both hands! No? Not funny? Ok).


  1. Almost, I try to limit myself to a bit of Reddit now and then. 
  2. Occasionally browsing it for recommended or staff-picked reader comments (highly under-rated, IMHO, and usually better than the Op-Ed pieces themselves).