since i got here vic has been trying to get me to read the Jasper Fforde novels. i didn`t get to the first one until recently, not because i didn`t trust her judgement, but i tend to go off on a binge and the libraries in Nashville encourage me; although after three attempts, i`ve decided to wait for Neal Stephenson`s Quicksilver on paperback. I want to read the book but it`s entirely too cumbersome as a hardback.
in the interim, i`ve gone off on a Neil Gaiman binge, from the Sandman graphic novels to Neverwhere and Good Omens; which was co-authored by another one of my favourite authors, Terry Pratchett, who i`ve since introduced vic too; if the Nashville public library has it, i`m reading it, i still have Smoke and Mirrors and American Gods on the little table next to get to after The Eyre Affair.
Jasper Fforde has a writing style that`s similar to Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett; light, easy to read, somewhat silly but an intelligent silliness, if that makes any sense. it`s hysterically funny, but only if your sense of humour generally involves word play and literary devices.
Neil Gaiman is part of my holy triumvirate of comicdom for me. the other two being Alan Moore and Frank Miller and in one of those amazing coincidences Salon, has an interview with Alan Moore today. [if you`re not a member you can just click through the very short ad and give it a read.]
edit: i`ve just finished reading the Alan Moore interview, stop reading this and go read it, the stupid ad to get a day pass is worth it. go. what are you waiting for.
Are you a Literature Abuser?
Take this test and find out! How many of these apply to you?
[x] I have read fiction when I was depressed, or to cheer myself up.
[x] I have gone on reading binges of an entire book or more in a day.
[x] I read rapidly, often `gulping` chapters.
[x] I have sometimes read early in the morning or before work.
[x] I have hidden books in different places to sneak a chapter without being seen.
[x] Sometimes I avoid friends or family obligations in order to read novels.
[x] Sometimes I re-write film or television dialog as the characters speak.
[-] I am unable to enjoy myself with others unless there is a book nearby.
[x] At a party, I will often slip off unnoticed to read.
[x] Reading has made me seek haunts and companions which I would otherwise avoid.
[x] I have neglected personal hygiene or household chores until I have finished a novel.
[x] I have spent money meant for necessities on books instead. (how can this be wrong?)
[x] I have attempted to check out more library books than permitted.
[x] Most of my friends are heavy fiction readers.
[x] I have sometimes passed out from a night of heavy reading.
[x] I have suffered `blackouts` or memory loss from a bout of reading.
[x] I have wept, become angry or irrational because of something I read.
[-] I have sometimes wished I did not read so much.
[x] Sometimes I think my reading is out of control.
If you answered `yes` to four or more of these questions, you may be a literature abuser. Affirmative responses to seven or more indicates a serious problem.
Once a relatively rare disorder, Literature Abuse, or LA, has risen to new levels due to the accessibility of higher education and increased college enrollment since the end of the Second World War. The number of literature abusers is currently at record levels.
Social Costs Of Literary Abuse
Abusers become withdrawn, uninterested in society or normal relationships. They fantasize, creating alternative worlds to occupy, to the neglect of friends and family. In severe cases they develop bad posture from reading in awkward positions or carrying heavy book bags. In the worst instances, they become cranky reference librarians in small towns.
Excessive reading during pregnancy is perhaps the number one cause of moral deformity among the children of English professors, teachers of English and creative writing. Known as Fetal Fiction Syndrome, this disease also leaves its victims prone to a lifetime of nearsightedness, daydreaming and emotional instability.
Heredity
Recent Harvard studies have established that heredity plays a considerable role in determining whether a person will become an abuser of literature. Most abusers have at least one parent who abused literature, often beginning at an early age and progressing into adulthood. Many spouses of an abuser become abusers themselves.
Other Predisposing Factors
Fathers or mothers who are English teachers, professors, or heavy fiction readers; parents who do not encourage children to play games, participate in healthy sports, or watch television in the evening.
Prevention
Pre-marital screening and counseling, referral to adoption agencies in order to break the chain of abuse. English teachers in particular should seek partners active in other fields. Children should be encouraged to seek physical activity and to avoid isolation and morbid introspection.
Decline And Fall: The English Major
Within the sordid world of literature abuse, the lowest circle belongs to those sufferers who have thrown their lives and hopes away to study literature in our colleges. Parents should look for signs that their children are taking the wrong path — don`t expect your teenager to approach you and say, “I can`t stop reading Spenser.” By the time you visit his/her dorm room and find the secret stash of the Paris Review, it may already be too late.
What to do if you suspect your child is becoming an English major:
– Talk to your child in a loving way. Show your concern. Let him/her know you won`t abandon him/her — but that you aren`t spending a hundred grand to put him/her through Stanford so she can clerk at Waldenbooks, either. But remember that he/she may not be able to make a decision without help; perhaps he/she has just finished Madame Bovary and is dying of arsenic poisoning.
– Face the issue: Tell her what you know, and how: “I found this book in your bag/purse. How long has this been going on?” Ask the hard question — Who is this Count Vronsky?
– Show him/her another way. Move the television set into him/her room. Introduce him/her to sorority girls/frat boys.
– Do what you have to do. Tear up his/her library card. Make him/her stop signing her letters as `Emma.` Force him/her to take a math class, or minor in Spanish. Transfer him/her to a Florida college.
You may be dealing with a life-threatening problem if one or more of the following applies:
– He/She can tell you how and when Thomas Chatterton died.
– He/She names one or more of her cats after a Romantic poet.
– Next to his/her bed is a picture of: Lord Byron, Virginia Woolf, Faulkner or any scene from the Lake District.
Most important, remember, you are not alone. To seek help for yourself or someone you love, contact the nearest chapter of the American Literature Abuse Society, or look under ALAS in your telephone directory.
so i went from having nothing to talk about today to a couple of calls that have not quite gone my way. for the last year i`ve been trekking around my old laptop under the delusion that it was just the power convertor board that had failed and it would be fairly cheap to replace.
since vic got the freelance gig we thought it would be a good idea for to get it fixed for her to use, so off it went to the nice folks at powerbookresq; well they called today, it was actually the logic board that died. so now here is the question, do we want to pay the $400 to have a 4 year old machine fixed or do we just want to get a new[ish] one with a warranty.
the second call i got was from the clinical trial i wanted to sign up for, telling me my SGPT levels are elevated, not dangerously so, but enough to keep me out of the study. normal levels are between 20 – 40, mine is 75. the reading puts me out of the running for hepititis or cirrhosis, but the guy suggested that i show a copy of my lab results to my physician. levels like that are related to drinking or consumption of tylenol. i don`t do tylenol and i didn`t even finish a whole beer on friday.
i`m trying not to panic, my medical at my office doesn`t kick in for another seven weeks and whatever this is will keep, i`m sure. i could check this up online but what good will it do me? i missed those years in medical school, so i`ll just be worrying myself probably unnecessarily.
i`ve been unduly fascinated by the new HTTP referrers system implemented by JS over the weekend; fascinated in the way we`re drawn to car wrecks.
here is a list of some of the searches that have brought people to my journal over the weekend
from google.ch:
breathhold water bdsm
from google.com:
“daily show”
borderline personality
steatopygia pi
advanced cunnilingus
“song lyrics”
orubus
promiscuous virgo
from search.earthlink.net:
god-complex
and from aol.co.uk:
rippling labia`s location
new searches added wednesday 21
google.de
circumised
google.com
steatopygia
histrionic personality
good morning america window
dreadlocked
white “tight pants” pool “g-string”
“caribbean zen”
“just a tease?” water warm
trip choclate cake [i feel lucky search]
callipygian photos africa
“key art”
“top ten” massage masseur tips
google.ca
“magical trevor” lyrics
google.at
“muckrakers – when i fall”
from some of the search results i can see how they got here, but some of the others were just a confluence of words on the page. this has also somehow propagated a new batch of googlebots hit, so the cycle is going to perpetuate itself now.
in my state on friday i needed something to cheer me up, the boychick found showed me some animations that i am now addicted to. there are short, hysterical funny, obviously the product of a deranged mind and just what i needed to get out of my funk.
so without much further ado, i present, Silly Sunday.
Badger, Badger, Badger
Footy Badgers
Magical Trevor
and our favourite
Kenya
all the animations are really small, entirely safe for work and have a tendency to loop until you close the window. just click on the image and have fun.
say what you want, support the troops, support the war, but there is a line that has to be drawn somewhere, while we`ve been distracted by Martha, the eating/drug problems of the Olsen twins and the capture of wanted dissenter; Bobby Fischer, things thought hidden and withheld are coming to light.
the debacle that is Abu Ghraib has take a turn for the worse. what`s worse that the torture, how about the rape of little boys; in front of their mothers. what kind of fucking sick shit is that. there is no justification for that. and the fact that the story broke internationally at least a week ago and there has been no coverage in major US news outlet, shows… i don`t even know what i want to say anymore.
i can`t even find the words… i`m sitting here reading the stories on the verge of tears. i`m not sure why i want to cry, whether it`s rage over the fact that a government would allow or much worse encourage something like this or my fear for my own children and family in the inevitable reaction to this.
i`m just going to post some of the links now because i am completely at a loss for words, a word of warning, these stories are not for the faint of heart.
Google Search Results
Guardian UK
Google translation of Der Speigel article
i work in advertising, i have for over 12 years now, that means i have been privy to some of the most stupid ideas in the history of creation.
if you think you`ve heard idiotic utterances you haven`t heard anything until you`ve sat in a creative briefing session. i think there is a special sort of vacuum created in these meetings by the combined efforts of the spreading of copious amounts of bullshit and the simultaneous effort of trying not to swallow any of anyone else bullshit.
at any give time in one of these meetings there at least three simultaneous levels of bullshit going on, there is the BS that is fed to the general public; which the crux of advertising and marketing; there is BS that ad agency, pr firm whatever feeds to the client; they know what they`re doing, they have a clue and they`re really thrilled to be doing this and finally there is the creative bullshit which is the copy writer, graphic designer or whatever creative representative who know we`re going to get screwed on the short deadline and our design and copy is going to get fucked with, but we still put on the shiny happy face because we want to pretend; at least for a moment; that we enjoy our job; when in fact what we do enjoy is the regular paycheque and not starving to death.
every once in a while the creative team exacts it`s revenge and this generally falls into the `what were they thinking` category. for a brief, shining moment, the facetiousness or flippancy of a comment is lost and everyone higher up on the food chain buys it, wholesale. this is not a reflection on my current job, this is just an observation made over the years and the relevance of which will present itself now.
this morning i was assailed for an ad for the Ben-Gay patch. the first thought that popped into my mind was, people have Ben-Gay addictions? i got the sense that the creative team had been stumped at every turn, or at least i`d really like to hope so, but that holds no candle to the following gem
i have been privy to what i hope was an advertising in joke that somehow managed to slip past everyone and escape unfettered into the wilds of the consuming public; i was at vic`s nephew`s graduation when the valedictorian mentioned the name of the high school anti-drug programme; drug enforcement and teen health.
i deliberately typed without the initial caps to let it sink in for a moment, now with the caps; Drug Enforcement And Teen Health. that`s right the anti-drug programme is called DEATH. i know you want to discourage them from drugs but that might be a little excessive. plus how do you send your children off to DEATH camp for a weekend without a second thought?
we all look alike.
you know the drill; all black men look alike, well take that a step further, all black men with dreads look even more alike. in Nashville there are five of us, an English teacher at some exclusive private school, a lawyer, a musician, a fellow graphic artist; who i had the pleasure of meeting; and myself.
since i`ve been here, i`ve been mistaken for the school teacher and the musician, one of both of them must party a lot because people keep coming up to me and asking me if we`d met at a party earlier in the year. i don`t drink that much and i don`t do drugs, i don`t even party much so if i`d met you at a party, i`d know.
the other graphic artist was telling me about having dinner in a restaurant and this woman accosted him, mistaking him for her ex; the lawyer. i thought that was pretty odd, but having had people come up to me and start conversations, i don`t know why i did.
the other person i look like; only because of the dreads and only to small children; is the guy who host a show on disney. i`ve had small children just sit and look at me thinking i was that guy.
when i was in Chattanooga over the July 4th weekend, a member of an old school quartet of queens tried to pick me up, said i looked like someone he knew.
i am everywhere, i am Darth Insidious, i cannot be stopped.
sometime in the near future i have to have a version of the `TALK` with the boychick. i don`t know if it`s the implied caps or just nerves but the though fills me with dread. i have all the information at my disposal, what i`m worried about is how much is enough or how much is too much and am i going to warp him in some way. well not warp him so much open him up to all manner of ridicule and abuse by his peers or even worse; an ignorant teacher.
i think it would be safe to say, vic and i are liberally bent when it comes to sexuality but in these times that may not be a positive and how do i go about passing this information on to a brilliant eight going on twenty eight year old with the minimal amount of discomfort for us both. i tend to treat children like small adults and they tend to react well to that; which is why i`m always surprised when one of them behaves their age, i never know how to deal well with whining and pouting and crying and tantrums; the flip side to that coin is making information accessible to them.
i`ve been lucky with my children, they`re bright, well read and have ever expanding vocabularies but talking about sexuality still fills me with dread. my daughters have decided they don`t want to have these discussions with me and the boychick has decided he doesn`t want to have it with vic.
it was just my mother and i and she decided to educate me just i was about to enter high school; in the British school system, that`s 11. she sat me down told me about procreation, refreshed my memory of what`s different on men`s and women`s bodies and provided access to Man`s body and Woman`s body and number of other books on sexuality that were in the household library and that was it. i didn`t turn out too badly, i think. there are still things i learned as i grew older and there still things i learn everyday.
how do i condense and edit 20 odd years of knowledge into something comprehensible and useful for a young man? i want to explain the value of sexuality, but how do i do that without being moralistic and in light of fact that sexuality has become a commodity? does he need to know about safety now? i have all these questions. sigh. parenting is never easy.
