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Tonight I almost fell asleep after reading barely a page of Salman Rushdie's miserably unreadable Midnight's Children. Like pages on hundreds of nights before this one, tonight's page contained only 2 huge run-on sentences, full of unrelated and uninteresting facts about the main character. It also contained what you might charitably call "poetic language" but that I simply call "incorrect English grammar". Salman likes to omit commas a lot, especially around adjectives, which makes it easy to get lost in his shitty run-on sentences and have to start over again at the top of the page. My average reading speed with this book has been about 1 page every 15 minutes.

But no matter.

Because unlike the preceeding two years of nights that I have spent trying to wade through this pointless tome, tonight's page was the final page of the book.

It's OVER.

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