As I violently attack the keys in an attempt to type something that makes sense in the ways of relating to the title I’ve been given to write this stupid essay about, I begin to ponder upon what the point of the essay is. Will it serve society in any way? Will it promote world peace? Will it save the environment? No. It will tax my brain in order to satisfy the sadistic nature of one very busy English teacher / entrepeneur who doesn’t even need his job as an English teacher because his other jobs/businesses/whatever pay him a lot more than his teaching job. However, he is good at teaching English (the one subject he exells in, his Maths is terrible) but I still fail to see the point in this dumb essay. It has nothing to do with the actual topic that our coursework will need to be written on and serves no purpose other than to cause a major traffic jam in my subspace mind. If anybody finds any decent reasons for writing about the so-called ‘style’ of an unimportant chapter of the droning, monotonic work of Romanticism and Gothic literature that we all refer to as Frankenstein, feel free to let me know. In the mean time I will violently attack my subconscious with profanities and threats until it conjures something decent to write about this dumb subject matter. I NEED TO FINISH THIS SOON BEFORE I GO IRREVOCABLY INSANE.