A little touch of sarcasm in the night

I have this thing about Margaret Atwood. May as well get it off my chest now so everyone can change channels before getting too far into it. I find her…really dry. Even when she tries to make jokes in her speeches or presentations or, heavens forfend, her Literature (yes, the capital “L” is mandatory in Canada when referring to any works by the divine Ms. A) it tends to have that forced nature, like, like, well, like Mr. Trepanier when he had to give my grade 8 girls class a hygiene class because Ms. Komiak was away sick.
I know she is a skilled writer and has an awesome artistic vision. I’m not attempting to say I could do anything even one tenth as good as she can. Don’t think I should, either. Is it necessary to be a gourmet chef in order to point out there’s too much salt in the soup?
It is mostly a matter of taste, I’m sure but, in the case of a few of her earlier works, I could sit down and give a fairly good showing in terms of a critical review. That is one good thing to be said for a Bachelor of Arts, I can look at most literature and give reasons for why I don’t like it. May not be good reasons but I can come up with ’em and put them in some kind of organized form.
Anyway, this isn’t exactly where I wanted to end up on the first go but I’ll leave it here for now. It’s Hallowe’en and I’ve had way too much candy – especially when I wasn’t going to have any. And after almost two weeks of no starch or fruit or other sugary things.