USPS Fail Hard (Again); My Game of Thrones Experience Ruined
If you follow me on Twitter, then you might already know about the recent disaster to land on my steps. If you don’t, then you’re in for a treat. Recently I became obsessed with A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin, much like many other people did ten years ago (or in the last few years, as is the case with Carraka, who graced these pages earlier today in my bizarre rant about characters from the book). I managed to get my mother into the series long before I could stomach it (I’ll explain this some other time), and when I got myself hooked on the first book, I started looking for the next three in the series. This search led me to call my mother, who has a great bookshop near her, and the end result was that my mother would gift me the next three (my own copies, rather than hers) and a whole bunch of homemade foods (jam, apple butter, applesauce, apple pie filling, and so forth). I like to pretend this was a loving gesture. As such, I’ve been anticipating the day that the box would arrive, because I desperately want to read Martin’s work in hard copy. I love my Nook, but nothing beats a mass marking paperback in my hands when I’m walking. MMPs feel…right. A week-ish went by, and finally the box arrived (today), marked a number of times with the term “fragile” (fra-gee-lay as they say in A Christmas Story). Instead of a well-kept package, I found this (after the fold): We’ll get to the brown discoloration in the corner in a moment. This box was not handled “with care” at all. It’s quite obvious that the box was treated as any other box might be treated if it were sent to a recycling company. Not only has it been brutally smashed from the start, but USPS made no effort to correct what was clearly a terrible mistake by giving the box better treatment. But the worst part isn’t the condition of the box. A beat up box can be lived with. If the package only contained books, I could, perhaps, forgive a little beating provided the books were in good condition. Sadly, USPS treated my package so poorly that some of the non-book-contents of the box were smashed into tiny pieces of glassy goop. That brown discoloration I mentioned earlier? That’s jam. And not just any jam. Festering jam. The box has been sitting in southern heat for days (two weekends worth) and the stink from within the box is unidentifiable. I have no idea what kind of jam it is because the identifying bits were crushed away too. All I have is a goop inside the box. There’s jam everywhere. Worst of all, on my brand new copies of the next three books in Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire. One of the books might be salvageable (I doubt it, though, since it stinks), but the other two are lost, soaked practically to the binding with rancid jam. See for yourself: And before anyone thinks my mother did not protect the jars well enough, let me show you my trashcan, which is full of all the bubble wrap I took out before taking the picture above: USPS didn’t bang the box up a “little bit.” They crushed it under something heavy or tossed it around. When you look at the image from the inside of the box, you can see all the stress marks from the pressure put on it from above. The level of beating this box took far surpasses anything resembling “normal shipping wear.” Oh, but it gets better. When I called USPS to complain, they asked if I had insurance on the box and told me I was out of luck if I didn’t. That’s right. I have to pay them extra money in order to be assured the box won’t get crushed or mangled on its trip. That’s like paying a restaurant for the assurance that someone won’t piss or spit in your soup. You expect that there won’t be piss or spit in your soup. That’s a minimum requirement of restaurant food. When I send something through the post office, I expect that my box won’t be crushed if I clearly mark it as “fragile” with my own pen (as my mother did) and the post office red mark (which they also did a number of times on this particular package). You buy insurance when you are worried about losing the box or that routine wear, even for fragile packages, might break the item. You don’t buy insurance in order to remind USPS that they need to do their job. In the end, I’m furious. I haven’t been this mad in almost a decade. I’ve been looking forward to reading those books for weeks. Now I have the pleasure of telling my mother that her lovely gift got shat on by USPS and that I’ll have to find replacements for the books she spent her day getting for me and the jam she slaved over her stove to make. Screw you, USPS. I’d say I hope the government cuts your funding, but that would be mean… P.S.: I’m writing this post at a time when I’ve cooled off enough not to curse a dozen times in a row. I was so mad earlier that when I called my mother to figure out if she had insurance on the package, I actually cursed on her answering machine, which will not amuse her in the slightest… P.S.S.: Thanks to Yona for reminding me of this hilarious scene from Spaceballs:
How George R. R. Martin’s “A Game of Thrones” Changed My Life
In a private message conversation on Young Writers Online, I descended into madness as the ending of A Game of Thrones sunk in. What follows is the very insane conversation that I had with a friend. The message was titled “Dlajdq24y89qu98yq2389yuadslajsblas bkn3kjgnkjajdsfalsdjflkasdjlkajlkaglasdlkgjalksgj.” I have inserted a space so it can fit… Warning: lots of foul language. (Do not read beyond this point if you do not want spoilers; I pretty much ruin the ending of the book in my rants). The message begins (after the fold): Shaun: They killed him. They fucking killed him. Chopped his head off and that stupid Sansa made it happen. That fucking stupid awful Sansa. But he’s dead. They killed him, and I’m losing my fucking mind right now. They killed HIM. Eddard Stark. He’s an amazing man, and they lopped his head off. An honest, honorable man…and he’s dead. And Jaime Lannister better be next. Better be more than next. Dead next. And all the other Lannisters to. Joffrey especially. I hope Arya guts him through his groin. WHY? WHY???????????????????????????????? Why Eddard? Why not Sansa? Or, I dunno, the whole fucking lot of the Lannisters…WHY? Carraka: Yeah, I was waiting for this. Imagine my amused smile every time you told me Ned was your favorite character. No, actually, don’t, because I wasn’t smiling. I mean, every time I take those character quizzes, they tell me I’m most similar to Ned. And so I start comparing myself to him, and I look at all the decisions he made that, while honorable, were not necessarily that smart, and suddenly I wonder exactly how much I’m screwing myself over by making important decisions such as choosing not to use SparkNotes. -croons- It’s okay … there are reasons to continue reading, though I cannot say what they are … it’s okay … -sniffle- -hugs Sansa- Poor girl, her father is dead. Shaun: Fuck Sansa. I hope she dies… Carraka: You are so cruel! Maybe it’s because I was once Sansa’s age. And Sansa’s gender. I really do not understand Sansa-hate. Shaun: Because she’s a naive moron who got her father killed. That’s why I hate her. She’s so blind by her silly childish romantic bullshit that she gets people around her killed. If she were my sister, I wouldn’t even bother trying to save her. I’d let her get beheaded while storming King’s Landing and Casterly Rock with an army of White Walkers and slay the whole of the Lannisters. Every last one of them. And I’d decorate the Red Keep with the hair of every Lannister in the lot, with the exception of Lancel, who I would immediately take under my wing and treat with great respect. Death to Sansa and the Lannisters! DEATH! Carraka: Wait, what? I know Lancel is cute and all, but why is he getting an exception? While we’re at it, I’ll name Lancel’s father, Kevan, as a Lannister who should also be spared. And Myrcella and Tommen Shaun: Because Lancel gets beat on by everyone and treated like garbage, and he’s so young and innocent. That’s why. I don’t trust any of Cersei’s children, though. All of them are rotten to the core. Infested with Lannister pride and wickedness. They should be tossed into the see to drown along with their mother and the Kingslayer and all of fair hair who bear the Lannister strain in their blood. Except Lancel. Carraka: Gods, Shaun. You’re like Robert with the Targaryens. Shaun: Aye, but I’m not drunk and I’m not fool enough to surround myself with scheming Lannisters with their gold and their lion helms and their smug smiles. And I’m not fool enough to run a Kingdom without honor. But like Robert, I would avenge the greatest of men with the greatest of violence in order to purify the Kingdom of its golden infestation and bring righteousness to the Seven Kingdoms, with Robb Stark and his mother, Catelyn, commanding the North, and the Iron Hand of the new King smashing those in the South who oppose the honorable new order. Long live King Shaun! Long live King Shaun! Carraka: Yeah, you’re reminding me that now that my summer is about to begin, I should be writing the next SBS round (in which people deal with your death). Also, like Ned, I would remind you that Myrcella and Tommen are only children, and it would be dishonorable to kill them. In fact, it would be … Lannister-like! You will become what you hate! Shaun: Then I will wait until they are adults and slay them each in their turn. If it must come to that to retain my honor, then so be it. But they will pay for what they did to Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North… THEY WILL PAY! You see what George R. R. Martin has done to me? Please don’t have me committed… In all seriousness, though, I think this say something about how much I enjoyed A Game of Thrones. For me to get that upset about a character’s death and the characters responsible suggests that GRRM is doing something right. Then again, maybe I’m just trying to convince myself that I’m not a genocidal maniac…