The Undertaker

I love The Undertaker. Love love love him. So I was totally surprised when I looked at his Wikipedia page and discovered that he lives in Austin! Really? I am hoping that Wikipedia is right on this one, because I would love to run into the Undertaker somewhere. If you see a 6'10", 300 pound dude with long reddish hair around town, give me a call. [Incidentally, Wikipedia was made for wrestling fans. There is a huge amount of information on every single move in The Undertaker's wrestling career. I love him and I couldn't read the whole thing. Do yourself a favor, though, and scroll down to the bottom to read up on his finishing and signature moves, nicknames, signature taunts and gimmicks.]

The Undertaker's most famous signature move is, of course, the Tombstone Piledriver. So let's all sit down and watch this Tombstone Piledriver compilation (come on, its only a minute and a half long, you'll like it -- plus all the crotch in the face action is rather entertaining):



And if that isn't enough, check out The Undertaker doing a Tombstone Piledriver on the world's strongest man, Mark Henry (who also apparently also lives in Austin? Is Wikipedia fucking with me?).

[One more link: an Onion story on the Undertaker taking on funeral arrangements for Eddie Guerrero, a wrestler who died of heart failure in 2005.]

Red Zone Blues

I recently received a free copy of Red Zone Blues: A Snapshot of Baghdad During the Surge by Pepe Escobar (2007) from the LibraryThing early reviewers program (which is awesome -- I love getting free books!)

Escobar is a Brazilian journalist who reports for the Hong Kong/Thailand-based Asia Times. Red Zone Blues is a compilation of his reports from Baghdad during the surge, together with an introduction and conclusion, and some new material in between. The book was published by Nimble Books, which specializes in fast publishing of material related to timely events. In this case, most of the material discussed in this book happens in the spring of 2007.

The author is obviously anti-Bush and anti-surge. And so am I, so I agree with many of his points. I didn't always like his writing style -- I felt like his sarcasm was occasionally over the top, and tended to obscure the validity of his arguments. He also has a tendency to over-metaphorize (a new word?) pretty much everything. Particularly in the introduction and conclusion, the florid writing and tenuous connections and arguments (the surge is like Carnival in in Rio? the Iraq war could be stopped if people would take to the street like they did against Vietnam?) distract from the meat of the book.

And there is some interesting meat there: the best parts are interviews with Iraqis in Baghdad and refugees in Syria. This is what I really wanted from the book -- what are ordinary people doing there in their everyday lives? How do they get groceries? Where do they work? Those interviews alone make the book worth reading.

Part of my problems with this book might have been solved with a better editorial presence -- but when the point is to publish something right now, I can understand why rigorous editing might be put aside in the name of timely publishing.

I can't say that I would recommend this to everyone, but at 100 pages, it is worth the time for someone interested in another perspective on the war in Iraq.

Halloweenies

I donated blood today, and they had the donation room all decorated with skeletons and cobwebs for Halloween. Don't you think vampires would have been more appropriate? I'd love to see some "we want to suck your blood" public service ads to encourage blood donations...

[And isn't this baby vampire costume both awesome and not awesome? I can't quite tell how I feel about it.]

The Tin Woodman of Oz

The Tin Woodman of Oz (1918) is my new favorite of the later-period Oz stories. So forgive the extensive quoting below, and believe me -- it is totally worth it.

It starts as a quest between the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, and a little boy named Woot the Wanderer to journey back to the Tin Man's hometown and find the girl he was supposed to marry before he rusted in the forest. Back in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz when Dorothy and the gang oiled his joints and rescued him from the rust, the Tin Man realized that he didn't have a heart and couldn't love this girl, Nimmie Amee, anymore -- which is why he asked the Wizard of Oz for a new heart. Alas, the Wizard only had kind hearts and not loving ones, so the Tin Man still couldn't love the girl who loved him. The group decided, though, that as a matter of duty, he should present himself to Nimmee Amee, marry her, and make her the Empress of the Winkies.

Nimmie Amee was in love with the Tin Man when he was Nick Chopper the woodcutter, but she was the servant of the Wicked Witch of the East (the one Dorothy's house falls on later), and the witch enchanted Chopper's axe so that he cut off his own limbs one by one. Luckily, Chopper knew this tinsmith that fashioned tin limbs for him as his meat limbs were cut off, eventually finishing him off with a tin head when the witch had that cut off as well. Did all this tin dissuade Nimmee Amee from loving Chopper? Of course not...

"'I am sure, my dear Nick,' said the brave and beautiful girl -- my name was then Nick Chopper, you should be told -- 'that you will make the best husband any girl could have. I shall not be obliged to cook for you, for now you do not eat; I shall not have to make your bed, for tin does not tire or require sleep; when we go to a dance, you will not get weary before the music stops and say you want to go home. All day long, while you are chopping wood in the forest, I shall be able to amuse myself in my own way -- a privilege few wives enjoy. There is no temper in your new head, so you will not get angry with me. Finally, I shall take pride in being the wife of the only live Tin Woodman in all the world!'

Makes a lot of sense... The three companions get in all kinds of hijinks and adventures on their way across Oz, including getting trapped in the castle of a giantess and fighting their way through an invisible kingdom. Eventually the get to the forest of the Tin Man's youth, when, to their surprise, they run into another tin man who has rusted in the forest. After oiling him up, the man tells them that he is Captain Fyter, and he fell in love with Nimee Amee after the Tin Man never showed up for their wedding (since he was rusted in the forest at the time). But could Nimee Amee love Fyter as much as Chopper?:

"She told me he [Chopper] was nicer than a soldier, because he was all made of tin and shone beautifully in the sun. She said a tin man appealed to her artistic instincts more than an ordinary meat man, as I was then. But I did not despair, because her tin sweetheart had disappeared, and could not be found. And finally Nimmie Amee permitted me to call upon her and we became friends. It was then that the Wicked Witch discovered me and became furiously angry when I said I wanted to marry the girl. She enchanted my sword, as I said, and then my troubles began. When I got my tin legs, Nimmie Amee began to take an interest in me; when I got my tin arms, she began to like me better than ever, and when I was all made of tin, she said I looked like her dear Nick Chopper and she would be willing to marry me."

When the group can't find Nimee Amee at her house, they go to Ku-Klip the tinsmith's where both of their new tin bodies were built. The two tin men reminisce about the times they had there:

"It seems almost like home to me," he told his friends, who had followed him in. "The first time I came here I had lost a leg, so I had to carry it in my hand while I hopped on the other leg all the way from the place in the forest where the enchanted axe cut me. I remember that old Ku-Klip carefully put my meat leg into a barrel -- I think that is the same barrel, still standing in the corner yonder -- and then at once he began to make a tin leg for me. He worked fast and with skill, and I was much interested in the job."

"My experience was much the same," said the Tin Soldier. "I used to bring all the parts of me, which the enchanted sword had cut away, here to the tinsmith, and Ku-Klip would put them into the barrel."

"I wonder," said Woot, "if those cast-off parts of you two unfortunates are still in that barrel in the corner?"

This is where it gets really good. All those cast-off parts were put to use, and the Tin Man even finds his head in a cupboard and has a little conversation with himself (note: the head is a real jerk). Since no one can die in Oz, the body parts all retained their liveliness even though they were no longer attached to their owner. This gave Ku-Klip an idea:

"Who is Chopfyt?"inquired Woot.

"Oh, haven't I told you about Chopfyt?" exclaimed Ku-Klip. "Of course not! And he's quite a curiosity, too. You'll be interested in hearing about Chopfyt. This is how he happened:

"One day, after the Witch had been destroyed and Nimmie Amee had gone to live with her friends on Mount Munch, I was looking around the shop for something and came upon the bottle of Magic Glue which I had brought from the old Witch's house. It occurred to me to piece together the odds and ends of you two people, which of course were just as good as ever, and see if I couldn't make a man out of them. If I succeeded, I would have an assistant to help me with my work, and I thought it would be a clever idea to put to some practical use the scraps of Nick Chopper and Captain Fyter. There were two perfectly good heads in my cupboard, and a lot of feet and legs and parts of bodies in the barrel, so I set to work to see what I could do.

"First, I pieced together a body, gluing it with the Witch's Magic Glue, which worked perfectly. That was the hardest part of my job, however, because the bodies didn't match up well and some parts were missing. But by using a piece of Captain Fyter here and a piece of Nick Chopper there, I finally got together a very decent body, with heart and all the trimmings complete."

"Whose heart did you use in making the body?" asked the Tin Woodman anxiously."

"I can't tell, for the parts had no tags on them and one heart looks much like another. After the body was completed, I glued two fine legs and feet onto it. One leg was Nick Chopper's and one was Captain Fyter's and, finding one leg longer than the other, I trimmed it down to make them match. I was much disappointed to find that I had but one arm. There was an extra leg in the barrel, but I could find only one arm. Having glued this onto the body, I was ready for the head, and I had some difficulty in making up my mind which head to use. Finally I shut my eyes and reached out my hand toward the cupboard shelf, and the first head I touched I glued upon my new man."

"It was mine!" declared the Tin Soldier, gloomily.

"No, it was mine," asserted Ku-Klip, "for I had given you another in exchange for it -- the beautiful tin head you now wear. When the glue had dried, my man was quite an interesting fellow. I named him Chopfyt, using a part of Nick Chopper's name and a part of Captain Fyter's name, because he was a mixture of both your cast-off parts. Chopfyt was interesting, as I said, but he did not prove a very agreeable companion. He complained bitterly because I had given him but one arm -- as if it were my fault! -- and he grumbled because the suit of blue Munchkin clothes, which I got for him from a neighbor, did not fit him perfectly."

Well, eventually the two tin men find their former sweetheart and present themselves as bridegrooms for her to choose between. As you might guess, Nimee Amee wasn't just pining away for the Tin Man all these years, and managed to find herself a new husband, who really reminded her of her former beaus, for some reason. Plus he had one tin arm.

[And, of course, you can always read the whole thing for yourself right here.]

Defibrillated

This weekend I lamely will have to be at work all day on a Saturday, but I will get some official first aid and CPR training out of it. I will also learn to use this automated external defibrillator, and I'm kind of excited about that.

Let the accidents begin!

Celebratory foodstuffs

If you ask me out, live with me for five years, and then ask me to marry you, three years later I will make you this delicious plate of fruit and cheese and buy you a bottle of wine. My new theory is that all occasions should be celebrated with cheeses.

Happy Anniversary, Dr. M.

[more foodstuffs here. And note that the scrabble pictures were from last year's anniversary.]

The Number of the Beast

Hilariously, this is my 667th spacebeer post. Which means that if I had posted just one less post back in the past, my review of Robert Heinlein's The Number of the Beast (1980) could have been my 666th post!

I had really been wanting to delve back into Heinlein (after reading a bunch in high school and college and ignoring him since then), and since the lovely chew had just finished this one, I took advantage and borrowed it. And although there were some very entertaining bits and pieces in this book (Oz!), for the most part I found it to be very self-indulgent and a nice demonstration of all the weaknesses of Heinlein's books.

In The Number of the Beast a brilliant mathematician and scientist, widower Dr. Jacob Burroughs, has invented a machine that plays with the dimensions of time and space and can send you into an thrilling number of other universes -- actually the number is 6 to the 6th to the 6th, or the number of the beast. He and his daughter, D. T. Burroughs (who everyone calls Deety) go to a faculty party thrown by family friend Hilda Corners to seduce Zeb Carter to consult on the machine (under the impression that he wrote some mathematical papers that his cousin actually wrote). After about five minutes of dancing, Zeb proposes to Deety, all four go out to their cars, and Dr. Burroughs car explodes. They hop into Zeb's Kit-like super-computer car, Gay Deceiver, and buzz away to get married. While on the way to the preacher, Hilda and Jacob decide to get married too.

It turns out that some kind of freaky alien from another dimension is trying to kill them all to stop the science behind the time machine from leaking out (although this danger pretty much drops out after they get into space). After an interminable "honeymoon" period at the family bunker (punctuated with long discussions of the pluses of nudity in the family circle, what Hilda and Deety's boobs look like, how their nipples react in social situations, and lots of rather creepy inter-familial sexual innuendo) the family group installs the time machine into Gay Deceiver and starts exploring the multi-universe.

Once they are in space, things get a little better. Everyone takes a turn as captain. We visit some alternate universes, spend a long time on a alternate Mars that serves as a penal colony for Britian and Russia, and eventually swoop into a string of fictional universes made real (Oz, Lilliput, Wonderland, the world of the Lensmen, etc.). Although this section kind of reads as fan-fiction, it was intriguing to watch these new characters interact with these other fictional universes. Plus it kept their clothes on. This brings in Heinlein's theory of pantheistic solipsism, or World-as-Myth where all fictional universes actually exist, and everything is sort of real and imaginary at the same time. Not a bad theory, although it seems to give Heinlein carte blanche to indulge in fan-boy overload.

So, back to the story: the two ladies both happened to get pregnant on the first night of their marriages, so the group comes up with a mission of finding a safe planet to homestead and have their babies on. They program the computer, survey the universes, and settle on a not-quite-Earth that fits the bill. This seems like a good place to end the book, but instead Heinlein has them get restless and go off on another adventure:

This time they very quickly hook up with Lazarus Long and a host of Heinlein's characters from other books. I read Time Enough for Love long long ago (I think), but I did not remember enough about it to be dumped into this universe with no lifejacket. I could sort of keep up, but found it to be rather tough going. This section perfectly demonstrates Heinlein's ideal family structure: Everyone is naked all the time, men and women all greet each other with passionate mouth kisses regardless of their relationship, and free love and procreation is the norm. You can even have sex (or genetic babies) with your father! Or your brother! Great! And you can live forever and there never really seem to be consequences for anything.

The epilogue where the characters throw a big convention bringing together people from all parts of space, time and fiction turns into nothing but a giant referral fest so filled with inside-jokes, winks and nods that I almost gave up (but not quite, I really will read anything). Somehow the evil alien sneaks back in at the very end and is destroyed (or is he? Do we care?)

To be fair, Heinlein was an old, beloved, established science fiction writer when he came out with The Number of the Beast and he certainly wouldn't be the first artist who succumbed to his own myth in his old age and indulged himself in self-referential works that pale in comparison with his earlier pieces. This book has some fun stuff in it, and possibly if I had read some Lazarus Long stuff a little more recently, I would have found the last 100 pages to be rather fun as well. This book would entertain a die-hard Heinlein or science-fiction fan who wants a fun little parody, but I certainly wouldn't recommend it for a reader new to Heinlein.

Incredibly Strange Films

My latest random book read was RE/Search #10: Incredibly Strange Films by V. Vale and Jim Morton (1986). This book explores the world of B-movie, exploitation, horror, and genre films through interviews with directors, actors, and producers; articles on film genres; and essays on individual films. The entire book is nicely illustrated with film stills and movie posters.

The interview section is by far the strongest part of the book, particularly the interviews with Larry Cohen, Frank Henenlotter, Herschell Gordon Lewis and Russ Meyer. My head is still reeling from the oddness of the interview with Ted V. Mikels. The interviewers for the most part ask interesting questions and let the director speak at length about his or her process, work, philosophies, and interests. The directors come from different generations and focus on different genres, and while some come to the business with their eyes on the profit margin, you can still tell that they all really enjoy telling these stories and working outside of the mainstream.

The essays on film genres (including biker films, J. D. films, beach party films, LSD films, sexploitation, and women in prison films) are often interesting and provide an overarching history of low-budget cinema. I particularly liked the section on Industrial Jeopardy films by none-other-than Rick Prelinger (of the totally awesome Prelinger Archives available on the even more totally awesome Internet Archive.)

The low-low-low point of the book are the film essays, particularly the ones on Young Playthings and Wizard of Gore [sample sentence: "The temporal regression toward the idyllic Golden Age parallels the psychological transformation of the group members as they uncover and adopt an instinctual awareness (much like a newborn's) untainted by modern accretions of sexually repressive attitudes and conformist obeisance to society's dictums." Ugh.] I'm not sure why the editors decided to include these essays that weigh down the films with unnecessary (and honestly, unreadable) academic interpretations.

One of the film essays, however got me excited about seeing Daughter of Horror (aka Dementia) a movie filmed in 1955 with no sound, but narrated (oddly enough) by Ed McMahon and with a theme song composed by George Antheil and sung by Marni Nixon (who did the singing for Natalie Wood in Westside Story and Deborah Kerr in The King and I). And speaking of the greatness of the Internet Archive, the entire film is available here!

After the essays, the book is finished up with some miscellaneous sections including a brief encyclopedia of strange films, quotes from movies, and a list of the editor's favorite genre films.

Even with its weaknesses, this book is definitely worth reading for anyone who enjoys low-budget films, or who is interested in the film making process. In a way the book serves as a time-capsule of low-budget genre film-making in the 1980s. Many of the interviewees mention the advent of VHS and how it is changing the playing ground for film distribution and funding. I'd love to see follow up interviews with some of these directors to see what they think of the internet, digital film making, and the other changes that have happened in the past twenty years.

[Oh, and excerpts from the book are available on the RE/Search page, here.]

It's Alive

The book I'm reading right now (more about it after I finish it, which will probably be this evening) has rekindled my ultra-love of Larry Cohen (which, honestly, did not need that much rekindling).



This clip is from It's Alive III: Island of the Alive (1987). So far I've only seen the first of the It's Alive trilogy. I think I'm going to have to remedy that soon...

Things I Irrationally Love

What I love: The Roomba.

Why I love it: It is a robot! That vacuums for you!

Also -- this.

Why that is irrational: I don't know anyone who has one, I have never seen one in action, and it would probably die in five minutes from all my ridiculous hair.

Why I don't care: It is a robot! That vacuums for you!

Galactic Patrol

Haven't you been wondering what's been going on in the world of the Lensmen? Thanks to the lovely choo, I've just finished the the third book in the series by E. E. "Doc" Smith, Galactic Patrol (1937). This was originally the first book in the series, so it makes sense that things really start getting interesting here. And yes, the cover can be believed, there are a lot of spaceships and not a few space pirates.

Here we follow the swift career rise of Kim Kinnison from his graduation at the top of his class for the Galactic Patrol and the receipt of his Lens, to his captaining of a cutting edge ship that leads to the the capture of pirate/bad guy plans, to his promotion to "Gray Lensman" -- a coveted classification giving him a blank check to do what he thinks needs to be done to fight the bad guys and promote the cause of Civilization.

Kinnison's main foe in Galactic Patrol is the unidentified "Boskone," head of the space pirates that are terrorizing inter-galactic space commerce and civilized planets everywhere. The novel takes our hero through a series of exciting quests and adventures that culminate in a battle with the big guy himself. And just guess which side wins.

As in the other books, Smith is at his best when describing strange new worlds and the beings that inhabit them. The guy can also write a very engaging space battle, and the action sequences are top-notch. We don't get any romantic interest until about halfway through the book when, laid up with a battle injury, Kinnison meets a firey, sexy, smart, red-headed and brave nurse named Clarissa MacDougall. Naturally they hate each other at first...

But just tell that to the doctor and Kinnison's commander, who, in a really odd scene, play matchmaker based on the quality of the couple's skeletons:

"First, just notice that skeleton. It is really remarkable. Slightly out of true here and there right now, of course, but I believe it's going to turn out to be the first absolutely perfect male skeleton I have ever seen. That young man will go far..."

"...I want the files on his nurses, particularly the red-headed one."

"I suspected you would, so I had them sent down... Here are her pictures, conventional and x-ray. Man, look at that skeleton! Beautiful! The only really perfect skeleton I ever saw in a woman..."

Do I hear wedding bells?

[Back cover on my copy is available here. Other nice covers are here.]

Things I Irrationally Hate, Part of a Neverending Series

What I hate: Those single-serve coffee makers and their dumb coffee pods.

Why I hate them: Wasteful! Expensive! Are you too rich and cool and trendy to just drink regular old coffee out of a regular coffee maker? I imagine that whole beans freshly ground in an inexpensive coffee grinder would taste more fresh than an individually packaged coffee pod any day. In addition, who only drinks one cup of coffee? I like my coffee by the 12-cup pot, please.

Why my hatred is (sort of) irrational: I've never actually seen one of these in person or tasted the coffee from it. Plus I have no idea how expensive the pods are and I'm too lazy to find that out.

Why I don't hate you if you like them: They do look kind of cool.

Chambers vs. God

I love Ernie Chambers for so many reasons, but this is the latest one. Sadly after serving in the Nebraska Legislature (aka The Unicameral -- and we are the only state that has one, woo!) since 1970, he is not allowed to run for re-election in 2008 after the passing of a term limit law (which some say was created just to stop Chambers from being elected again).

Mr. Chambers, I formally invite you to move down here to Texas and help straighten our Legislature out. You can totally crash on our couch until you find your own place...

The Lost Princess of Oz

My latest Oz adventure was The Lost Princess of Oz (1917). After books that hardly took place in Oz at all, and ones that recycled characters from other Baum books, The Lost Princess of Oz is a return to form for the Oz series, and ended up being one of my favorites.

In this book, Dorothy wakes up to discover that Ozma is missing. And not only Ozma, but also her magic picture that can show you what anyone in the world is doing at any time, the Wizard's magic equipment, and Glinda's potions as well as her magic record book that writes down anything important happening anywhere. Since one of these items is usually the deus ex machina that saves the day in the Oz books, I was immediately excited about an Oz story where these crutches were taken away.

The book reads like a mystery where groups of our favorite characters spread out to the four corners of Oz in search of their princess. We are latched onto the group containing Dorothy, Toto, the Wizard, the Patchwork Girl, the sawhorse, Betsy Bobbin, Trot, the Woozy, Hank the mule and the Cowardly Lion (whew). And to top it all off, this group is later joined by Button Bright, the little boy who is always getting lost and then found again.

Various adventures ensue as the group makes its way into the unexplored regions of the Winkie country (including an awesome spinning mountain range). At the same time that the group is heading out in search of Ozma, a woman from the isolated land of the Yips named Cayke the Cookie Cook realizes that her magic jewel-encrusted dishpan has been stolen! She needs it to make her awesome cookies so she and a giant frogman (who used to be a regular frog but grew to a large size in a magic pond and now wears fancy clothes and acts very wise) leave their sheltered country in search of it. The parties naturally join, after also picking up a Lavender Bear (the king of the teddy bear country) and his tiny wind up pink bear that can answer any question. This is a lot to keep track of.

Rest assured that mysteries are solved and things are returned to normal. It all boils down to an overly ambitious shoemaker (and really, doesn't everything?). This reads as a very nice adventure story, and even though a few too many characters are crammed in there, the book makes an excellent addition to the Oz universe.

[And, as always, you can read the whole thing here. Don't you love the public domain?]

Hippity Hyper

This is my new favorite game. Sorry I don't have time to post about anything. Shockwave games and a bottle of wine have taken over my life.

Power Power

Steamy leading man Tyrone Power wins the prize for an actor having a name that one would swear has to be a pseudonym, but that turns out to be real. In fact, it was his father's name and his great-grandfather's name: Tyrone Power (1795-1841). And all of them were actors, which just goes to show how far a powerful (and real) name will take you.

[Sadly for Tyrone Power, Jr. his heart was not as strong as his name and he died at the early age of 44.]

To the Lighthouse

Have I mentioned before that I lovelovelove Virginia Woolf? Because I really do. There is something about her writing style and my sensibility that clicks perfectly. So it should be no surprise that I am completely gaga over To the Lighthouse (1927).

In this book, as in many Virginia Woolf books, not that much actually happens. The book is divided into three sections. The first, "The Window," is the longest of the three and describes a day at the vacation home of the Ramsay's. Mr. Ramsay, a professor of something (metaphysics perhaps?) and his wife have eight children and a crowd of weekend guests with them in their vacation home that overlooks a bay with a lighthouse in the distance. Much discussion is devoted to whether or not a group of them will be able to sail to the lighthouse the next day. In the second, very brief and much more abstract section, "Time Passes," time... passes. And in the third section, "The Lighthouse," we return to a single day at the vacation home, ten years after "The Window," and finally visit the lighthouse.

So why would I like this book?

Woolf uses a stream-of-consciousness style of writing in which dialogue and internal thoughts are interspersed and the point of view travels seamlessly from character to character. With this the reader gets a more intense and real-feeling picture of the lives of the characters and their relationships with one another. We see what Mrs. Ramsay thinks of herself, and what everyone else thinks of her, and back and forth between all the characters as they interact with one another in everyday sorts of ways. We feel along with the characters as their happy feelings are shattered by an tossed off comment or action, and later their sense of isolation and disconnection is evaporated by a glance or a phrase. Much like real life, important things aren't always happening, and the things that seem important to the characters go unnoticed by everyone else.

Reading this shortly after As I Lay Dying brought up all sorts of parallels between the writing styles of Faulkner and Woolf. They were contemporaries (To the Lighthouse came out a few years before As I Lay Dying) and I wonder if they ever read one another. These books in particular both use a changing point of view (between family members and neighbors/houseguests) and stream-of-consciousness style to explore the relationships of a family that is changed by a death. Although Woolf's novel (while sometimes very bleak) is ultimately much more hopeful than Faulkner's. I'll definitely have to think on that some more...

[I was going to put a scan of my copy of To the Lighthouse up to illustrate this post, since I love the design, but it looked so gross and dirty when I scanned it. It really doesn't look that disgusting in person, but let this be a lesson to those who design book covers: white probably isn't a good idea.]

[And if the idea of "books" with "covers" totally disgusts you anyway, then knock yourself out and read the entire text of To the Lighthouse here.]

[Update: Reading this post over I feel like I make the book sound kind of boring and unapproachable. But really, I found reading it to be energizing, exciting, and relaxing all at once. And I know I'm a fast reader, but this really did read quickly. Don't be frightened away!]

Mr. Wizard

Dr. M comes up with another fabulous invention: The Beeritar. We will be developing a gift set that packages this with the very popular Beer Phone. You will be able to buy two Beer Phones and two Beeritars in a handy six-pack. I predict that this innovation will be our ticket out of this dump. See you later, suckers!

Alice in Email-land

This week I finished reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland in 37 sections, delivered to me via e-mail, upon a timeline of my choosing (which was one installment a day) -- all thanks to the fantastic innovation of dailylit, a site with hundred of public domain books all neatly split up into bite sized bits for your reading pleasure. Think you have no time to read? How often do you check your email? Do you have two minutes a day to devote to slowly ingesting some great text? I think that you do.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland is, of course, totally great. And really well suited to this delivery format. I hadn't read it since I was a kid, and it was, in many ways, quite a bit weirder than I had remembered. I love Alice and her fearless acceptance of the weird goings on in Wonderland. The only thing I missed by reading this online were the wonderful illustrations, but, of course, those are available online too. What can't the Internet do?

[I'm reading Henry James' The Turn of the Screw in 50 installments next...]

Just Dial a Number

I don't remember exactly how I got this copy of Just Dial a Number by Edith Maxwell (1971), but I know it was sometime in junior high. It seems like my aunt gave it to me when she was cleaning out her books, or maybe I got it at a garage sale somewhere. Either way, I kept it unread on my shelf for many many years, and then brought it home to Austin the last time I was at my parent's house.

When I got this book, I was on a major Christopher Pike jaunt (closely followed by an equally excessive Stephen King fascination). I think I thought this book, with its evocative title, dark cover illustration, and declaration that "a prank phone call leads to terror" on the front cover would be a teen horror book along the lines of Chain Letter.

Instead, the "terror" in Just Dial a Number is more on the lines of a guilt-riddled adolescent girl than a creepy horror fest. Cathy and her friends are seniors in high school who recently put on a play in which her only line was "Someone tried to kill me" -- which she whispers into a phone before dying. Back at her house after the show and fooling around, the four friends decide to dial a number at random and have Cathy say her line from the play. Unfortunately, their joke is taken seriously by the woman who answers the phone -- she and her husband think the caller on the other line was their daughter and rush home to help her, dying in a single-car accident on the way.

The book does a nice job of contrasting Cathy's reaction to the accident with that of her boyfriend and her other friends. Her guilt is focused into an obsession with the orphaned girl, a sophomore at their school. As she becomes more and more involved in the girl's life, an eventual outing of her involvement in the parent's death is inevitable.

This young adult novel was published in 1971, and although many of the teenage issues still ring true today (popularity, boyfriends, parents, etc.), some are rather dated (lots of "should I or shouldn't I" over pot at parties, gender roles -- particularly in the character of the mother, a climax set in the turn-on tune-in drop-out community of San Francisco). Although it didn't deliver the teenage horror promised by the title, I found this book to be quite enjoyable, particularly if you are a fan of young adult fiction for teenage girls. And if you aren't, brother, I don't want to hear it.

[Back cover available here.]

As I Lay Dying

The latest selection from the ultra-elite Smarter Than You Bookclub is As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner (1930). This is the first novel of Faulkner's that I've read -- I'd previously read some short stories that I liked, but for some reason had never dipped into the longer works. I really enjoyed this one, and managed to read half of it on the way to Chicago and the other half on the way back home.

This novel follows the Bundren family as they journey to bury their wife and mother, Addie, back in her hometown. The story is told through a first person point of view that shifts between the husband, the sons, the daughter, the neighbors, and even the dead mother herself. The combined viewpoints coalesce into a deeply drawn picture of the individuals, the family as a whole, and their relationships with one another. I really enjoyed this.

I don't want to get into too many details (gotta save something for the bookclub, yo), so instead I'll mention that the copy of this book that I ordered off of Amazon came with two California lottery tickets from a year ago stuck into the back. In addition, don't you find it odd that the first three pages of a google image search for "As I Lay Dying" are almost entirely related to this metal band, with only two pictures of the Faulkner novel?

Chicagoed

I have returned! Chicago was lovely, and I experienced maximum archival geekouts.

Sadly the body slices exhibit was not in place at the Museum of Science and Industry [they also charge extra to go inside the submarine (which was still cool from the outside) and for the traveling CSI exhibit. This = lame]. They did, however, have a truly great exhibit of robot toys.

I was on a tight budget, so I didn't experience much of the restaurant culture, but I did have fun eating granola bars and triscuits and making bourbon cocktails in my awesome hotel room. Overall, I just can't wait to go to Chicago again.

Full photo set here.

Oh and also...

I will be unplugged for the next few days as I venture to Chicago for the annual archives geekout extravaganza. [Although really, what I'm most excited about seeing is this.]

The Dain Curse

What will I do when I've read all of Dashiell Hammett's books and stories? Read them again, I suppose, because I don't want to stop reading them...

I just finished reading yet another of his novels, The Dain Curse (1929) -- which was originally serialized in Black Mask before being slightly reworked as published as a novel. The original foundation of the story shows through, as the novel is broken up into three distinct parts, all revolving around the same girl: Gabrielle Leggett/Collinson/Collins/Dain, who may or may not be under the grip of a family curse.

The story goes through many twists and turns (involving diamonds, robbery, murder, cults, drug use, sex, human sacrifice, adultery, etc.), as well as a set of interlocking mysteries that build and telescope into one final answer. Like many of Hammett's stories, not every loose end is tied up, and many aspects of the plot don't fit together, but as a reader, you just don't care. The characters, particularly Hammett's unnamed detective The Continental Op, are what the action is really about.

If you haven't read Hammett, and you have any love at all for mysteries, detective stories, or fun, well-written pulp, you must check him out. And although The Dain Curse is a little all over the place, even for Hammett, it is still worth dipping in to.

[And click here (and scroll down) for a gallery of some of the different covers The Dain Curse has been graced with over the years. I love this.]

Horror Poster Art

I just finished reading Horror Poster Art (2004) edited by Tony Nourmand and Graham Marsh. I have a great love for movie posters, especially pre-1980s posters. I also love horror movies (as you can tell from the list Dr. M and I have been watching). Combining movie posters and horror movies into one book was a winning combination.

Normound and Marsh broadly define "horror" in their retrospective of movie posters, including movies that could also fit into the categories of suspense or science fiction. The book is nicely produced with beautiful full page shots of posters and well written blurbs about the directors, movies, and artists featured in the book. They also don't limit themselves to US or UK versions of posters, and include many examples from Japan and Eastern Europe. Incidentally, I learned that Poland has the craziest movie poster tradition I have ever seen in my life. Check this collection out -- you will not be disappointed.

Rinkitink of Oz

The tenth book in L. Frank Baum's Oz series is the very non-Oz Rinkitink in Oz (1916). We can blame the lack of Oz in this Oz book both on Baum's documented general lack of interest (except of course, financial interest) in the long-running Oz series, and the fact that the bulk of the book is actually an adventure story that Baum wrote in 1905.

To make up for the lack of Oz in the story itself, Baum begins the book with a geographical placing of the islands of Pingaree, Regos, and Coregos (where the story takes place) in relation to the land of Oz. They are kind of nearby it. He also ties the story in with the land of the Nome King (who we have visited before), and as always ends it up with a big banquet in the Emerald City.

Although I think the lack of Ozzyness is a little silly in an Oz book, Rinkitink of Oz is actually a very nice little adventure story. It involves a young prince of a prosperous island nation named Inga. His parents and all the citizens and wealth of the country are taken away by evil warriors while he is taking a nap up in a tree. He then sets off with the pudgy king of a neighboring island (that's King Rinkitink!) and his talking goat, along with three magic pearls he got from his father, to save his parents and his people from working as slaves in the mines and fields of King Gos and Queen Cor.

This quest eventually leads him to the land of the Nome King where he has to save himself in various trials as he works to free his parents. Just when things are getting exciting, Dorothy gets beamed in by Ozma to save the day and bring everyone back to Oz for the obligatory banquet. This time we get a laundry list of our favorite characters, but no real interaction between the new characters and the old group.

This story follows Baum's familiar pattern of a young child and an adult to which he or she is not related going out in the world to save something or somebody and meeting up with danger and adventure along the way. And obviously this formula works...

[Read the whole thing here. Do it! Or else just read the Wikipedia description, you lazy thing.]

Documenting Our Pee Party

Dr. M's bathroom break series on Film Watching Robot is really one of his greatest ideas ever. What is more fun than stopping a movie to go to the bathroom (or grab another beer or such), and then taking a picture of the TV when the movie is paused? The only thing that could possibly be more fun would be spending $60 on this toilet bowel costume and then never taking it off. [There is actually a dazzling display of odd costumes on that site, my favorite probably being the fart meter.]

Check back often for further pee pauses!

First Lensman

I just finished reading First Lensman (1950) by E. E. "Doc" Smith, which was culled by the lovely Choo from her duplicates pile and lovingly placed on my pile of sci-fi to be read. First Lensman is the sequel to Triplanetary, and continues the Lensman series. Although it is the second book in the series (which, according to Wikipedia was the first group of science fiction novels conceived as a series), it was actually written last. The series originally started with the last four books, which were published in Astounding Stories. After their success, Smith reworked an earlier story into the novel Triplanetary, and then wrote First Lensman to connect Triplanetary to the other books.

So: many people don't like First Lensman as much as the rest of the series, since it is essentially an afterthought. Since I haven't read the four books that make up the original series, I'm going to have to say that I thought First Lensman was pretty good.

After saving the world from the iron-hungry Nevians in Triplantary, Costigan goes back to work with Virgil Samms and the rest of the rough-and-ready, very honorable, very manly, honest and trustworthy gang. They realize that they are going to have to create a Galactic-level force to monitor the universe, keep down the bad guys, and have everlasting peace. But how are they to do this when they can't understand half the aliens they meet? Enter in the Arisians, the ancient "good" race that has been orchestrating Civilization as we know it. They have finally found a man who is worthy of wearing their special Lens: Virgil Samms. He goes to their planet, gets this little lens thing on a wristwatch, and suddenly he is able to telepathically communicate with any other intelligent being.

As First Lensman, Samms chooses other people who are strong and good enough to wear their own lens, and sends them to Arisia for their induction. He naturally thinks that his smart, brave, intelligent, and totally foxy daughter Virgillia Samms (who mostly goes by Jill) would be a perfect Lenswoman. Jill, however, comes back from Arisia with a surprise -- she didn't get a lens. As she explains:

Women's minds and Lenses don't fit. There's a sex-based incompatibility. Lenses are masculine as whiskers -- and at that, only a very few men can ever wear them, either. Very special men... Men with tremendous force, drive, and scope. Pure killers, all of you; each in his own way, of course. No more to be stopped than a glacier and twice as hard and ten times as cold. A woman simply can't have that kind of a mind!

Ah well, at least she's got her looks. [And some totally awesome body language reading capabilities that are practically good as mind-reading. Seriously very fun.]

The bulk of the book deals with the build-up of the Lensman force and its fight against the political machine in North America that is trying to disarm the Lensman and destroy the Galactic Patrol. Plus some really rough outer-space drug trafficking.

Smith is great when he does what he does best -- action sequences, new technologies, and descriptions of other planets and aliens. The writing slips a bit when romance is in the air, and the political stuff can get a little dry, but overall there is a lot to like here. Not the least of which is the totally rocking cover on this 1970 edition of the book.

[Back cover here, if you are a cover completest like me.]

Indulgences

I've got a couple nights to myself while Dr. M explores the great white north -- having a few days in the apartment alone is both really fun and kind of boring. What is fun about it is that I can indulge in all my bad habits, but the downside is that my bad habits aren't very interesting. And Dr. M wouldn't even say anything about them were he here. Actually he would most likely encourage them.

Bad habits I have explored so far:

1. Have another cocktail.
2. Look at a million celebrity blogs.
3. Play online games like DailyPuzzle, TextTwist, and Zuma until my eyes hurt.
4. Stay up too late reading.
5. Put off any errands that involve getting into my car.
6. Not writing out a grocery list. Yet.

See -- boring. Maybe I should try heroin? Lost weekend? Take up smoking? Secret identity? I somehow feel like I'm wasting my days of alone time. Maybe tomorrow's bookclub will get a little out of control....

[the image above comes from a image search for "bad habits," which honestly doesn't turn up as many funny pictures as I expected...]

Power Down

If you live in Austin and have an account with Austin Energy, you should totally sign up for the Austin Energy PowerSaver program -- all you do is give them your contact information and agree to conserve energy between 4:00pm and 8:00pm when they contact you (which will be up to ten times during the summer). For that you get a nifty kit including: weather stripping, outlet sealers, two compact fluorescent bulbs, and a nightlight. For free! I just got mine, and am currently enjoying the energy efficient glow of my first compact fluorescent bulb. Don't you like free stuff? And conservation? Of course you do.

Now turn off that light.

Gifted

First a little background on my next read, Gifted by Nikita Lalwani (release date September 11, 2007). We all know how much I love LibraryThing, right? Well, now I love them even more since I received a free advanced reader's copy of this book through their Early Reviewers program. I think this program is awesome not only because I love to read anything on earth and I like free stuff, but also because they use crazy LibraryThing algorithms (with other factors like number of reviews and expressed interest) to match readers up with books. Those algorithms must have worked in my case, because I really enjoyed reading Lalwani's debut novel.

Gifted is the story of Rumi Vasi, a young math genius, and her family. Rumi's parents immigrated from India to Wales, where her father, Mahesh is a mathematics professor, shortly before her birth. Mahesh and Rumi's teachers notice that she has a great talent for mathematics. When the teachers suggest that Rumi be put into a gifted program at school and enter Mensa, Mahesh decides to create a strict program for Rumi's education on his own, as he strongly believes that anyone can be a "genius" if they separate themselves from distractions and push themselves to excel. This program moves Rumi into more and more advanced studies, but also isolates her from her fellow students, her family, and herself. Rumi eventually sits for her exams to enter Oxford University at the age of 14, but the pressure is mounting and it is evident that something will have to change for Rumi.

Although the storyline sounds predictable, Lalwani's writing makes it very fresh and intriguing. She avoids some of the pitfalls of coming-of-age novels by alternating the perspective from Rumi to Mahesh, to Rumi's mother Shreene. All the conflicts in the book are nicely balanced (daughter vs. father, teenager vs. adults, intellectualism vs. popular culture, Indian vs. Welsh, husband vs. wife, tradition vs. innovation, etc.), with no single aspect threatening to take over the narrative and push it over the edge. The climax and ending of the book were just right -- satisfying without explaining too much, and meaningful without being overly dramatic. This was an excellent read, and I look forward to reading more of Lalwani's work in the future.

He's not heavy, he's my box

I am working on a giant project at work that involves moving, lifting, opening, dumping, shifting, filling, and inventorying a couple hundred boxes. I started it yesterday and should (nearly) finish tomorrow. Today every muscle in my body aches, even my finger muscles. I don't think those have ever ached before...

This is enough typing for my poor fings. Hopefully I am still mobile tomorrow.

The Cuisinart family is coming for you!

Here is another addition to my set of oddly staged Cuisinart advertisements. This one is mostly creepy because everyone is staring right at us with their freaky smiles. It is also creepy because it is the same family from this other ad. Where will this family eat next?

Yawn

I am still recovering from a mega-family-visit-fun-fest. Photographic evidence available here, should you need something to pass the time.

A Change is Gonna Come

My latest random book read was A Change Is Gonna Come : Music, Race, and the Soul of America (1998) by Craig Werner. In this book, Werner discusses black music in America and its relation to the political and social movements from the 1960s through the 1990s. Although I found much of the content of this book to be interesting, Werner's writing style threw up a big brick wall that I had a hard time getting beyond as I read the book. Plus I stopped halfway through to read Harry Potter.

So, here are some of my problems:

Werner is obviously qualified to write this book. He is a professor of Afro-American Studies at the University of Wisconsin, and has written many books and articles in this subject area. He is also a white guy from the Midwest and (from some asides in the book) appears to be an ex-hippie. This shouldn't disqualify him from writing a book about black music in America, but because of the nature of the book (often informal, drawing broad conclusions about artists intentions, social movements, cultural views), I think his personality (including his race, age, and experiences) should be more integrated into the book and not just mentioned in passing in the preface. And it made me cringe on more than one occasion when he told us how black people were feeling at a certain time and place, without citing any actual black people.

Werner is a little overly dependent on a few key metaphors to tie his narrative together: primarily "the moan" (as in the gospel moan), and "call and response." Does everything related to all African-American music really have to be brought back to call and response? Even Phil Spector gets the metaphorical treatment:

"... [t]here wasn't much real call and response between Spector and his singers. In the end, that left Spector himself isolated and blue. When Spector's musical genius passed over the borderline into paranoid silence and isolation, no one was in a position to call him back." (p. 40)

This quote is also a pretty good example of the overly enthusiastic prose that Werner falls into over and over again -- particularly at the beginning or end of a chapter, or when he is trying to transition between one thing and another. He makes these sweepingly broad statements using really florid and awkward language, and often tries to fit in one of his key metaphors to boot. A few examples:

"Disco was without question the most powerful forum for women's expression during the seventies." (p. 207)

"Intensely aware that fluidity requires openness, Seal refuses to dictate how his songs should be interpreted." (p. 323)

And my absolute favorite:

"[Ani DiFranco's] guitar -- and she may be the most powerful rock guitarist since Jimi Hendrix -- has been fighting all along." (p. 343)

The Ani DiFranco comment highlights another weakness in the book -- his discussion of the 1990s. This is to be expected, since he wrote the book in the late 90s, there wasn't a lot of distance between himself and the music he was discussing. Still, his love of DiFranco, Hanson, Boyz II Men, and the Spice Girls date the book a wee bit. He also has a tendency to move away from black artists in this time period (although he really seems to have listened and read about a lot of rap and hip hop, you can tell it isn't really his thing -- especially when he writes a few chapters about Bruce Springsteen's career in the 1990s instead).

Also, Werner seems to have had the idea that he should discuss female musicians in this book, but instead of integrating them into the text, he has a tendency to (with the exception of big names like Mahalia Jackson or Aretha Franklin) either note that women were important to a certain genre without devoting much space to discussing individual artists, or just give a laundry list of artists and songs from a certain era.

Finally, Werner often pushes his analysis of individual songs and artists to extremes, drawing conclusions about their meanings that seem to go way beyond the intentions of the creator or the impressions of the audience (I mean, is every song in the world imbued with political meanings? Really? Can't a black person occasionally write a love song that is just a love song and not a cry for freedom?). But in contrast with this overly academic style, Werner throws in a painfully informal and "hip" writing style. He often calls artists and political figures by their first names (a major pet peeve of mine -- if you don't personally know someone famous, either refer to them by their last name, or use their full name. And for God's sake, never refer to Martin Luther King, Jr. as Martin), and uses slang and colloquialisms that are a little out of place.

Obviously I'm having fun picking apart Werner's writing style. There were still some good things about the book -- including his discussion of music and the Civil Rights Movement, a history of the major Soul labels in the 1970s, and all the quotes from artists that pepper his book. This is definitely a history of black music for white people (in one section he helpfully tells us how to pronounce RZA and GZA). In the end, I'd say its worth reading, but you might not have that much fun reading it.

[Pictured above is Mahalia Jackson with Elvis Presley and Barbara McNair.]

Bloody Awesome

I donated blood today, and if you live in Austin (or anywhere really) you should too, as they are mega-low on the blood donations this summer [unless of course you are scared to death of needles like Dr. M]. Not only will you have the fun of answering a series of semi-embarrassing questions (they aren't so bad, although I don't often get asked if I've ever accepted money for sex or had sex with an African), but you will also get tasty Nutter-butters, or the cookie or snack of your choice afterward.

Or you could just purchase this blood drop mascot costume for $1200 and wear it around. Doesn't that seem like a lot for a costume? I guess mascot costumes must be more heavy duty than your usual Halloween/costume ball fair.

Hawey Podda

I just realized that, although I have come up with many a Harry Potter related post in the past week or so, I never did write up what I thought of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (2007). And since it is my personal quest to write a little something about every book I read, it must be done.

Of course, you can't really write about this last book in the series without writing about the series as a whole: I really liked this series. Isn't that crazy? No, I guess not, since practically every human on earth is either reading the books, watching the movies, or both. And because I can't succinctly verbalize exactly what it is I like about these books, and because I don't want to give away any plot details for those who haven't read it, I'll just blurt out some observations here. All stream-of-consciousness blog-style:

I like that the world has another really great children's series to latch onto. And I like that the characters, the plots, and the whole Harry-Potter-Universe actually do grow, deepen, complicate and change as the books progress. I love series. I love really long books. I love good and evil and sacrifice. I like all the descriptions of the everyday life of wizards and witches. I like that Rowling doesn't recap everything that happened in previous books. I love Neville. The movies are nice as reminders of the books, but they aren't nearly as great as the books themselves. The ending of the series is satisfying. I like having things both ways. I like that there is one real cuss in the series (that I counted, anyway). I love the battles. I kind of love Snape, even though I sometimes hate him (although I love Alan Rickman -- why isn't there more Snape in the movies?) I like that some characters really die. I love reading. I love that friends loaned me every volume of this series except the first one, as I don't have room for all these gigantic books in my house.

I love Harry Potter!

Damn.

Right now the World Heavyweight Champion is The Great Khali (7'3" -- a very big dude, played by Dalip Singh Rana). And the World Cruiserweight Champion is Hornswaggle (4'5", Finlay's sidekick -- a "leprechaun" played by little person Dylan Postl). Usually Hornswaggle jumps up from under the ring while Finlay is fighting, and distracts the referee so Finlay can bash his opponent with his shillelagh, and doesn't actually compete himself. You can read how he won the championship (and watch a clip) here. The following clip will show you why I love to watch wrestling (this is pre-championship for both men, but it's the only clip I could find of the two of them together).



[Do yourself a favor, and check out the "Finishing and signature moves" section on the Wikipedia pages for each of these wrestlers. You won't be disapointed.]

Share time

So, I subscribe to a lot of magazines. Really. I've pared them down a bit in recent years, but I still have quite a few that come every month or so and beg me to read them. In the past, I worked at a relatively big place with a break room where I could drop old magazines. But now My work is small and doesn't even have a break room. And Dr. M has left the working world for student-times. But I can't just recycle the magazines, because they deserve better than that. So I need you, dear readers. If any of you would like me to pass old issues of the following magazines your way, just let me know. Preference to folks in Austin, but I would even mail small batches out to select friends out of state.

Choose from:

• Harper's Magazine [one of my favorites, I've subscribed since high school and I shall never stop!]
• Jane [actually I read that Jane has been axed by its publishers, so there might only be one or two issues of this one to share]
• Seed [super awesome science/culture magazine]
• Smithsonian
• Interview [I like the pictures]
• Bitch [don't let the "feminist" part scare you -- this is a pretty great magazine]
• Blueprint [this is a new magazine from the Martha Stewart empire -- I like it, but I don't think I'm going to renew it. I've still got a couple issues on the way, though.]
• Spin
• Oxford American [this is a great one -- excellent essays, fiction, and photographs exploring southern culture]

Don't be shy -- ease my magazine subscription guilt!

DC Potter

Have you watched DC Cab lately? I saw it about a billion times as a kid, and then made Dr. M rent it the other weekend for nostalgia purposes. I still think it's pretty fun to watch, but that might be childhood memories rubbing off of it.

Anyway, the big climax of the movie revolves around the two children of an ambassador getting kidnapped right when our hero drops their maids off in his cab. I just spent half an hour trying to find a picture of these kids: they look exactly like a tiny version of Harry Potter and Hermione. All private school uniforms, round glasses, frizzy hair. I think J. K. Rowling might have based her character design on these two. Seriously, watch the movie and see what you think. And take a picture of the screen because shouldn't everything be on the internet now?

And since I can't provide an illustration of what I'm talking about, how about a little Gary Busey clip? While little-kid Kristy thought he was pretty funny, grown-up Kristy thinks he makes the movie worth watching:



[In addition, I finished reading the new Harry Potter last night (thanks choo!). I thought the ending was very satisfying. Now I have a Harry Potter Hangover from reading 350 pages in one night and staying up too late.]

Ew.

I told you flip flops were bad.

Pottered

Can't talk. Must read Harry Potter. Why does work have to get in the way of my reading?

[Get your own lightening bolt tattoo here!]

The Scarecrow of Oz

The ninth book in the Oz series, The Scarecrow of Oz (1915), was also reportedly one of Baum's favorites. Perhaps he liked it so much because he wrote in two characters from his non-Oz books, and let them prance around in Oz for a bit. In the preface we certainly get more of his passive-aggressive "thanks" to all the children that won't let him stop writing Oz books:

I am deeply grateful to my little readers for their continued enthusiasm over the Oz stories, as evinced in the many letters they send me, all of which are lovingly cherished. It takes more and more Oz Books every year to satisfy the demands of old and new readers, and there have been formed many "Oz Reading Societies," where the Oz Books owned by different members are read aloud. All this is very gratifying to me and encourages me to write more Oz stories. When the children have had enough of them, I hope they will let me know, and then I'll try to write something different.

Our two new characters are Trot, a young girl, and Cap'n Bill, a boarder at her mother's boarding house and her best friend. Cap'n Bill used to be a ship's captain, but he lost his leg (now he has a wooden one) and spends most of his time now just hanging out with Trot. The two go out on a little boat, but get sucked into a whirlpool and spit out in an underground cave. They are both a bit worried, but each tries to keep their spirits up for the other person's sake. After a day or so, a strange creature (the Ork) washes up in the same cavern.

The Ork sat upon its haunches much as a cat does, but used the finger-like claws of its front legs almost as cleverly as if they were hands. Perhaps the most curious thing about the creature was its tail, or what ought to have been its tail. This queer arrangement of skin, bones and muscle was shaped like the pro­pellers used on boats and airships, having fan-like surfaces and being pivoted to its body.

The Ork and our two heroes eventually escape the cave, having a few adventures on the way, and after a series of stops (on an island where the only inhabitant is a real jerk, and in the Land of Mo where it rains lemonade and snows popcorn), they fly over the deadly desert and land in Jinxland, an isolated corner of the Land of Oz that is separated from the rest of the country by a range of mountains and a big gulf.

Oh, and on their way they run into Button Bright, who we previously saw in The Road to Oz.

Jinxland is a lovely place, but it is under the thumb of an evil king (King Krewl), and no one there even knows about the lovely Ozma back in the Emerald City. The king is trying to marry his niece, Gloria, off to the rich but awful Googly-Goo. She, on the other hand, is in love with Pon, the gardener's assistant. But actually, Pon is the son of the previous king (King Phearse), who was overturned by King Krewl. And Gloria is the daughter of King Kynd, the king who was killed by Pon's father. Got it? Basically, Gloria is the true ruler of Jinxland, and Pon is royalty.

Because Gloria won't submit to her rich suitor, the King pays a wicked witch to freeze her heart and get her to stop loving Pon. That works, but she doesn't love or care about anything else either and still won't marry Googly-Goo. The wicked witch also turns Cap'n Bill into a grasshopper with a wooden leg, which makes everyone sad.

Luckily Glinda the Good has been reading about all this in her magic book, so she sends the Scarecrow to help out. Eventually the Scarecrow, with the fortuitous return of the Ork and his fellow Orks, is able to get rid of King Krewl, put Gloria on the throne, turn everyone back to normal, and get the whole gang over the mountains and into Oz and back to the Emerald City for a celebration (a rather familiar ending for the Oz books).

[And, as always, you can read the full text here. This site is even more awesome, though, as the creator has scanned in the illustrations from the book and embedded them with the text. Very fun.]

Three Things I Love

1. Getting into a really hot car after freezing all day at work.

2. James Yun, aka Jimmy Wang Yang. He is super fun to watch, is cute, and also seems nice.

3. Every cat on earth. Even mean ones. Even your cat.

What do you love?

Three Things I Hate

[Off the top of my head. Not necessarily in order of dislike.]

1. Flip Flops (these are not good for your feet, people. Okay at the pool, bad for walking around.)
2. Matt Hardy (He is soooo boring -- why do people like him? in addition to hating his dumb wrestling moves, I also hate his hair, his facial hair, and his pants.)
3. Unnecessary abbreviations, both spoken and written. We have enough time to just say the complete names of people, couples, films, and events, and to spell out every letter of our words. Believe me.

What do you hate?

Tomorrow: three things I love.