The Pension Grillparzer, OH

I'm Not the Man They Think I Am at Home

I've always been a fan of bizarro stuff. Matt and I even spent a year living as a bizarro version of our best friend. I like that, as far as Bizarro Superman is concerned, being bizarro is about not just being the evil version of the original, but also the reverse and opposite of it too. One of my favorite superhero characters is Zibarro, the bizarro version of Bizarro Superman. And he isn't Superman, but he is close.

Although I like bizarrity I don't think I could bring myself to read any bizarro fiction. I'm just not that kind of reader. Not that there is anything wrong with bizarro fiction, I'm just a little more somber, serious, and sterile I suppose in my reading selections. I always have to tell people, it isn't that I think comedic writing isn't good, it can be great, I'm just not a very funny reader.

But I have to admit that the new book Shatnerquake by bizarro fiction author Jeff Burk looks pretty amazing. Here's what Amazon has to say about it~

" William Shatner? William Shatner. WILLIAM SHATNER!!! It's the first ShatnerCon with William Shatner as the guest of honor! But after a failed terrorist attack by Campbellians, a crazy terrorist cult that worships Bruce Campbell, all of the characters ever played by William Shatner are suddenly sucked into our world. Their mission: hunt down and destroy the real William Shatner.

Featuring: Captain Kirk, TJ Hooker, Denny Crane, Rescue 911 Shatner, Singer Shatner, Shakespearean Shatner, Twilight Zone Shatner, Cartoon Kirk, Esperanto Shatner, Priceline Shatner, SNL Shatner, and - of course - William Shatner! "

I know right?! I'm not going to lie, I don't have much to say besides that, because really, what else can be said.

Summer Reading

Categorically Opposed

I used to be a fan of genres. Science fiction, fantasy, gothic... but not westerns, no definitely not westerns. I spent countless hours of my youth reading Star Wars novels. I just chewed through them. Some of them were good, some of them woefully mediocre, and some beyond bad. But, I read them because of the name on the front, not for any other reason. It was a trap, one I think far too many people fall into. For in the last few years, I've slowly come to realize the truth: genres suck.

Yes, they can be helpful. There are differences between genres and specifics to each that lead some to gravitate towards certain ones and others to shy away from them. I am a sci-fi fan, there is no doubt about it, but I don't like the vast majority of science fiction books. Several Hugo and Nebula winning books that I have read recently have disappointed me. Others are some of my favorites. What it comes down to is a sense of exploration and newness that science fiction has. It is that idea of a blank slate, of endless possibilities. Truly great sci-fi creates a sense of wonderment that is beyond compare. But, that doesn't mean other genres cannot do the same thing, or invoke different joys in a reader or viewer. Even, explaining why I love science fiction limits the genre, because not all, or even most sci-fi elicits that sort of feeling in me. Just some, and others of my favorite science fiction do no such thing.

So, genres are a nice indicator of certain themes that one might think to expect in a piece of art, but they are frighteningly problematic. When they confine us into little regions of fiction, they are only hindering our enjoyment. For far too long I avoided westerns for whatever reason, but No Country for Old Men was a great movie, and Deadwood is one of the best TV shows I have ever seen. And that only leads me to the question of what a western even is. Do they have to take place in the western United States during the 19th Century or is it specific themes which form a genre? What about The Gunslinger by Stephen King? Is it a western or fantasy? What genre is Firefly?

Even my esteemed colleague here at BSD has been mutilated by this stealthy succubus, claiming he dislikes anime. While, I cannot claim to be all that well-versed in the genre, Spirited Away and Kiki's Delivery Service were wonderful movies and if cinematic Japanese video games count, well... those are some of my favorites. While I may not delve into some genres enough, I have abandoned claiming not to like genres. Genre-ism simply is not helpful. Romance, Mystery, Alternate History, Slasher Films... I can name a book or movie I have enjoyed from most any genre that I can think of. Military? Saving Private Ryan. Romantic Comedy... Groundhog Day (or is that sci-fi too?). Alternate History... The Man in the High Castle. Mystery? Sherlock Holmes. The the only real criteria I have is whether or not it's any good. Isn't that what matters? Just take a step back, do yourself a favor, and do just a little delving. Find something that sounds interesting or is supposed to be great from a genre you thought you hated and let yourself experience something new. Because, really... aren't we all violating the true spirit of that old cliche... aren't we just judging books by their covers?

While these thoughts have been floating around in my head for a while now, what really inspired me to write this (though it has taken me far too long to actually get my thoughts down) was an article in The Guardian by Ursula K. Le Guin late last year. It is ostensibly a review of Margaret Atwood's latest book, The Year of the Flood, but to me read more like a critic of the publishing industry in general and genres in particular. I won't rehash it completely, but in short: Atwood argues she doesn't write science fiction, while Le Guin can't blame her for not wanting to be relegated to "genre fiction", but doesn't agree. Neither do I, to tell the truth and the whole ordeal is a sad state of affairs. I don't believe anything should be called "genre fiction", or maybe everything should be, but either way the title is meaningless. Everything fits into some genre or another, or two, or three or seventeen. You can fit it into some category that will help it reach it's audience, but ultimately it only restricts it. I understand that The Year of the Flood is much better than the average sci-fi novel out there (or would imagine it is, not having read it, but having thoroughly enjoyed Atwood's novels The Handmaid's Tale and Oryx and Crake), but it is also much better than the average novel period. Call it speculative fiction or future fiction or post-apocalyptic-dystopian-geneticism... just call it something that is helpful. Because, despite how much I am railing against genres, they are useful if used as descriptors. I like to know a little bit about what I am going to read before I read it. The problem is that genres are limiting us, not helping. Give me the genre and then tell me if it's any good or not and we are set. It's the latter that really matters.

Despite how much I love thrill of the hunt for used books, there are simply too many to sift through by myself. Which is why I rely on reviews and lists, word of mouth and advertisements on the back of milk cartons to decide what I should read. I search for used books all over the place, but I try not to allow myself to be biased by the genre in my searches. Library book sales are unmatched for book hunting, for the simple fact that you can load up on a bunch of books you didn't realize you needed or wanted for only a few bucks, but they are always so hectic. The internet is obviously the most convenient route, but it has it's drawbacks, too. First, you never really know what you're getting... condition, smell, delivery time, all unknowns and I dislike paying a cent for a book and $3.99 for shipping. Ultimately, though, it just feels like cheating. I would much rather have the thrill of finding the book somewhere than giving in and ordering it off of Amazon. So used book stores are without a doubt my favorite. You simply cannot beat the ambiance and smell of them. Recently, I was even a bit disappointed when my favorite store fixed the light over the sci-fi section... I preferred the dimness. Yet even there, in my sanctuary is the horror of genre. Sci-fi, fantasy... mysteries, westerns, romance.... and, worst of all "literature".

Yet, if I am going to be honest, the demarcation is helpful. I avoid the romance completely, not from an aversion to love, but with the the knowledge that anything in that section is going to be dreck. If I'm going to invest the hours it takes to read a book, it's not going to be for smut. That's what porn is for. The well-written love stories are in the normal fiction section anyway, because apparently a criteria for the romance genre is that it must be bad. Which, I don't get at all. If we're going to make these categories, shouldn't we stick with them? Shouldn't 1984 be in Science Fiction? Or All Quiet on the Western Front in historical novels? Or is that not historical because it was written only ten years after the war? I don't even know the rules on these things. But no, those two aren't even in normal fiction, no... they have been exalted to the "literature" section, not that I really know what that means.

Yet, again... I can't say this division doesn't help me. I am a book elitist and much of what I read comes from stuff that would be termed "literature", though from the narrow way the used book stores describe it, nothing written in the last half-century counts. But, literature is not a genre and is far greater than the two shelves worth of Dickens, Hardy, Austen and Sinclair Lewis in the corner of the store. Literature is no more and no less than the art of the written word. As impossible to define as I know that is.

So, I will continue reading literature, which really amounts to anything that is well-written enough to keep my attention, no matter the genre. If you'd like to keep reading uninspired, bland fiction, be my guest, just maybe think about trying a bad sci-fi book or a bad western once in a while. It might surprise you.

A Green Lantern

Earlier I saw some concept images for the upcoming (2011) Green Lantern movie and it got me thinking...

"Wouldn't this make a better science fiction movie than it would a super-hero movie?"

I know that people will argue that super-hero movies are science fiction movies. But that isn't true. Just the same way that there are horror movies that aren't science fiction. It can take place in space, it can defy physics, it can raise the dead or build a laser- but none of these things make it science fiction.

The problem is of course that Sci-Fi is both a genre and a topic. Because of this the distinction between what is science fiction and what is about an aspect of science fiction is sometimes difficult to tell. Stephen King has a book (Danse Macabre) all about how some movies, like Alien, might take place in space and have astro-miners and aliens but are inherently horror films. The astro-miners are the protagonists but the antagonist, the alien, is a monster. This is much the same way that Frankenstein (1931) is a horror or monster movie and not science fiction, even though it is full of text tubes and has a mad scientist. James Bond movies are full of lasers and space technology but it is pretty clear that these things are plot devices, MacGussins, furthering the plot but adding very little in terms of theme.

But that's what makes a movie science fiction. Theme rather than content is what makes it a genre. However, its common for the dichotomy in science fiction to be taken advantage of. Not jut works borrowing the look or style of science fiction but by the direct degeneration of genre based on its successes. As a prominent literary genre science fiction shares some themes with other genres, as they all do. But too often is a successful piece in this genre re-categorized as Literature, implying something about the nature of science fiction as a genre and the other books under that distinction. (But this, in itself, raises the issue of genres. There is a very strong argument against organizing art by genre. Non-stronger perhaps than walking through a book store and recognizing the complete incompetence of the aisles. Nevermind high and low art. Because Brave New World can be removed from 'Science Fiction' and put in it 'Literature' it should not be a surprise that Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man can be taken out of 'Literature' and put amongst the growing number of black romance novels that are beginning to define the 'African American Lit.' section. But it is a surprise.)

Science fiction is a very difficult to interpret type of story telling because it is a topic and a genre. But it shouldn't be this hard. the themes in science fiction, the true tropes of the genre, are abundant, giving, and clear. The morality, implications, intentions, behind these ideas and how they are used is what breathes life into true science fiction. Traveling through time or flying through space can mean more than just point A to point B. But often it doesn't, and that is why so much posing as science fiction sucks. And it really sucks.

If we are going to hold on to antiquated organizational means such as we have now than new distinctions need to be made. Maybe there is a difference between science fiction and sci-fi and maybe it is high and low. But even if there isn't, is it so much to ask that people at least start to think about it and make some better decisions.

There is a line in the sand. It the past few years I have only seen a handful of truly great and truly science fiction movies made. Moon, Sunshine, District 9. If movies like these want to compete than they need to avoid the Superhero Summers. I have pretty low hope for science fiction at the movies this year. I'd really hoped that the superhero trend would end and that movies like Avatar would start a new trend and like the 80s we could finally get some good science fiction back. But maybe next year or the year after that.

I don't really care about Green Lantern, at all. But, here is an opportunity, a real chance, to do something with the superhero movie as a type. Of all the comic book characters that have been offered the chance at film none of the big names has the clear option to be a science fiction movie more than Green Lantern. As far as a superhero story goes Green Lantern is soft science fiction bordering at times on fantasy. What more could they ask for? How much easier could it be to make this mainstream film science fiction and do it right- making it enjoyable but also provocative. Make a superhero movie sure, if you must, but make it explorative.


photo credit: io9

Cathulol

via lolthulhu.com

Asbestos

I buy most of my textbooks online, not only because it's cheaper, but to stick it to the monopoly that is the university book store, so I get an email every once in a while from AbeBooks. They're really more newsletters than advertisements, and often have some interesting stuff. The other day, they had an article about one of our favorite authors: Ray Bradbury.



I'd love to get my hands on one of the fire-proof, asbestos-covered copies of Fahrenheit 451. I've never been one to seek out first editions, and while I do collect books, I usually like to try to find the cheapest used copy I can. But this.... this is just awesome. I wonder if anyone has ever tried to light a copy on fire?

I did a little bit of poking around and found a bit more information here. Apparently they only other book to have an asbestos cover was an edition of Stephen King's Firestarter.

Goobye, Seymour

Of course I don't know what to say. J.D. Salinger is dead. He died today at 91 years old. Which, is of some if only little conciliation. I'm sad, but I think I would feel much sadder if the author hadn't been trying himself to be dead to the world for the past forty something years.

Salinger was the symbol of heartfelt cynicism as both an author and as a public figure of interest. In his work he represented the rebellion and upset of an age but still imbued it with a sense of moral right and wrong. His characters rejected society because they embraced ethics; because of their own highly sensitive moral codes and compasses.

So much of what Salinger became has been represented by so little. He is a pocket in american history and literary cannon, represented by only what he would allow out into the world. What Salinger accomplished rests on a very small library of books. His death solidifies this fact. His work is a very small pin in the hinge of a very large door. Now, it seems that many an rest assured that that pin has been forged to last and be unaltered. Anything which come now will not be Salinger's. He made his stand all that time ago and choose those parts of it he wanted preserved. I can not imagine a better way to rest in peace.

(Ray, you're really all I have left.)

Happy Thanksgiving, 2009

Not to Be Confused part 2

Finagen's Wake, which we've mentioned here before, and Finegan's Week, a book that Matt found at some destitute and derelict counterfeiting publishing house.

Edger Rice Burroughs and William S. Burroughs. The former wrote such gems as Tarzan and A Princes of Mars. The latter wrote such gems as Junky and Naked Lunch. Of all things here these two should never be confused.

Guy Montag and Heidi Montag.

Correction, of all things here these two should never be confused.

"....more like a cemetary than an avenue...."

Just as I finished the first book of Roberto Bolaño's posthumously published last work, 2666, my lending time form the library ran out and it was recalled. Someone else had placed a hold on the work and I will have to wait another month before I can enact my revenge, perpetrating the same grievous act against them.

I am left with a hauting feeling from the opening book of 2666, The Part About the Critics. It was a strangely interesting and obsessing read. Although for the most part while reading the book, carrying the massive 900 page slab from place to place with, trying to fit in a few minutes of reading and rumination whenever I could, I felt that the work was slow and retarding I could not keep myself from reading more. Unlike so many books that have presented themselves to me as being nearly plotless and void of direction of plot The Part About the Critics was strangely, and borderline upsettingly, obsessing. The story is about four German literature critics and scholars from all over Europe (England, France, Spain, and Italy.) Each is considered an expert in their field of study and on the work of the mysterious German author, held to be the greatest German author of the 20th century (with the exception of Franz Kafka), Benno von Archimboldi. As the four scholars become friends a love triangle develops within the group, Norton and English woman in her late 20s, and two of her male companions, Pelletier, a Parisian, and Espinoza, a Spaniard. As their private lives take over their work and daily tasks the critics find themselves suffer as a result of one another. The stroy windingly leads out of Europe and into a Mexican boarder town, Santa Teresa in Sonora, where, among a mystery concerning hundreds of young women's deaths, the critics hope to find the seemingly mythical figure of their mutual lives, Archimboldi.

The book reads like a Francisco Goya painting. Some figure like his Colossus or Saturn, devouring his son, hangs over the writing. The language is baroque and gothic but without the added weight of romanticism. So much of the story is interrupted by the dreams of the characters of their false memories of such that entire sections of the work feel surreal and unread after a time. As the characters slowly lose all connection to their own lives so does the reader and eventually you find yourself reading without purpose or direction or concern. The work is so disconcerting and unnerving that its easy to forget what you are reading and why. Some of its most stylish,stunning, memorable, and enjoyable lines and passages are constructed with such a dichotomy of grotesque beauty, of clarity juxtaposed with insanity that its hard to not feel upset reading them. Like when Norton, Pelletier and Espinoza, stopping their car along a Mexican highway leaving the city look out across the desert and into Arizona and "the sky at sunset looked like a carnivorous flower."

The Absurdist Triumvirate

“Restraint! What possible restraint? Was it superstition, disgust, patience, fear -- or some kind of primitive honour? No fear can stand up to hunger, no patience can wear it out, disgust simply does not exist where hunger is; and as to superstition, beliefs, and what you may call principles, they are less than chaff in a breeze. Don't you know the devilry of lingering starvation, its exasperating torment, its black thoughts, its sombre and brooding ferocity? Well, I do. It takes a man all his inborn strength to fight hunger properly. It's really easier to face bereavement, dishonour, and the perdition of one's soul -- than this kind of prolonged hunger. Sad, but true. And these chaps, too, had no earthly reason for any kind of scruple. Restraint!” (71)

In consideration of the publication date of Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, 1899 puts the work 34 years after Lewis Carroll’s initial publication of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. With no evidence as to whether or not Conrad was influenced in any way by Carroll’s earlier text the likenesses between the two stories are striking and surprising. From the Chief Accountant’ lingering smile (like that of the fading Cheshire Cat [“`All right,' said the Cat; and this time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail, and ending with the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone.”]) to Kurtz’s writing “'Exterminate all the brutes” (characteristic of The Queen’s proclamation “Off with her head!”) each text experiences it’s characters slow lose of stability and sacredness for life as the characters, Alice and Marlow, become deeper entrenched in their respective rabbit holes.

One such examination of this slowly leaking sense of decency towards the mortality of others is found in the passage above where Marlow examines the power of self-restraint. If taboos exist to insure and keep peace then cannibalism must represent one of the most disruptive behaviors to the colonials. However, as Marlow observes the natives restraint in the face of hunger he comes face to face with his own weakening sense of peace and right or wrong. As Marlow recognizes that “disgust simply does not exist where hunger is” he too recognizes his own hunger and his own loss of disgust or morale sense of propriety. Throughout the text this same loss is represented in different characters but most strongly in the civilized characters who coming from an established community of morals become less and less adverse to barbarism as they travel deeper into the jungle. Marlow’s restraint is his disgust and his feelings of horror which keep him from giving in to the hunger of the jungle.

Taking all of this into consideration its also interesting to think about something that Matt first pointed out to, that Alice's Adventure's in Wonderland and Kafka's The Trial (1925). When taken together the three texts make for a perfect Absurdist Triumvirate, a series of parables bridging from one century into the next.

Super Karate Monkey Death Car

TranslationParty.com is a great little inter-web toy that a friend turned me onto the other day. It does what electronic manuel writers have been doing for years- it translates english sentences to japanese and back again, and back again, and back again. It does this until it strikes an equilibrium and the translation stops changing from one step to the next.

I plugged in two sentences, both taken from Petrarch's Sonnet 190. The firs was a literal translation from the original Latin into english. The second was a poetical translation by Sir Thomas Wyatt from his work titled "Whoso List to Hunt." Hilarity ensued.

Here are the two results-

Sonnet 190

Original English sentence: "Let no one touch me, It has pleased my Caesar to make me free."

End Product: "I am a Please select one. Caesar, happiness, and free will. "

(although one particularly good good translation about halfway through read "I select one, then I'm free, please try to be happy Caesar." It kind of reads like a Dear John letter.)

"Whoso List to Hunt"

Original English sentence: "Let no one touch me, Caesar's I am, and wild for to hold, though I seem tame."

End Product: "However, please contact me I need to save the wild sheep."

Try it out with your own sentences and post your findings.

Moon Men

Moon Men
Originally uploaded by zagreb911

I am pretty much just ripping this story straight from another blog, content and all. My purpose for this is that I'm a big fan of both Frank Frazetta and IRL. I wish I'd know about the contest mentioned in the BB story while it was still going on- c'est la vie.

This group did an amazing job at recreating Frazetta's work. It helps that, as many people have commented on the flickr page already, that the woman in the shot is not only beautiful and curvaceous, but is also strikingly Frazetta-esque figure and matches the obalisque in the original painting remarkably closely.

I recently read E.R. Burroughs' 1912 novel A Princess of Mars. Frazetta did cover art and insets for a number of these works years after their initial serialization and publication. I was lucky enough to find an illustrated copy of the book in a near-by library's Special Collections. Both the illustration of the princess mentioned in the title of the book, Dejah Thoris, as well as E.R.B's description of her came to mind when I saw Zagreb911's photo.

"And the sight which met my eyes was that of a slender, girlish figure, similar in every detail to the earthly women of my past life... Her face was oval and beautiful in the extreme, her every feature was finely chiseled and exquisite, her eyes large and lustrous and her head surmounted by a mass of coal black, waving hair, caught loosely into a strange yet becoming coiffure. Her skin was of a light reddish copper color, against which the crimson glow of her cheeks and the ruby of her beautifully molded lips shone with a strangely enhancing effect.

She was as destitute of clothes as the green Martians who accompanied her; indeed, save for her highly wrought ornaments she was entirely naked, nor could any apparel have enhanced the beauty of her perfect and symmetrical figure."

Blog News: Apologies and Words

Wow... It's been way too long, for the blog and especially for me. We had been doing so good for a while there, but I sort of got out of the groove of posting and never got back in it. I can't promise anything, but after Spring Break where Stef and I will be heading to New York and New Jersey and once hockey season ends and I'm done broadcasting for the most part, things should really pick up. I'm not going to make any promises, but I'm going to try.

Not that BSD supports judging books by their covers, but this is a pretty cool list.

BSD on planning on saving a word, but the site doesn't seem to be working. Hopefully more will come of this later.

Tentacle Rape Roundup

When I began this post months ago BSD was back on the front page of Google's Tentacle Rape results and clocking in at number 9. We're since gone again.  With some of our former slimy glory gone here's my attempt to reclaim what's been lost. (As always my tentacle interaction is tainted with some Lovecraft lovin' so please forgive any variations in the follow.)

Before the future of BSDs Tentacle Rape is taken any further I'd like to give you a brief history of Tentacle Rape.  In the 1820s Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai produced an erotic woodcut called The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife.  In it a woman is sexually taken by two octopi, a larger and smaller.  Not until years later would Tentacle Erotica reemerge in Japanese culture.

The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife

In 1987 in an attempt to dodge Japanese pornography laws which prohibited the depiction of animated phalluses Toshio Maeda created the tentacle rape monster.  (Similar laws brought about the creation of Bukkake in Japanese porno as well.)  No phalluses, just tentacles.  This new incarnation of tentacle rape premiered in Urotsukidoji and quickly found a cult following.

In the 90s and 00s with the advent of the internet there was a dual flood of Anime among it and friendless teenagers alike.  Two things Matt and I have spent a lot of time with.  We were fated to come into contact with TR eventually, and reluctantly we did.  Now with everything up to speed on tot he round-up!

Someone at Threadless Tees combined what BSD most likes (SciFi) with what it most hates (T-shirts?) to illustrate the danger of sending octopuses into space. 

I was surprised and delighted when I saw that Jones Soda made a Barack Obama flavored pop.  I was less delighted and much more shocked when I saw that Mnemosyne made a Tentacle Grape flavored pop.  

SomethingAwful.com' Photoshop Phriday are working to make sure even Tentacle's are conscious and aware of safer sex habits.  Introducing the Rape-Tentacle Strength Condom!

Artist Rune Olsen may have accidently created one of the most impressive and beautiful works of Tentacle Rape since The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife.

Some things should never exist.  Like this, the complete works of HP. Lovcraft online.  Truly a horror of unspeakable measure.    

The Perry Bible Fellowship (one of the internets greatest webcomics) has a Cthulhu inspired strip that is just as scary and much more realistic than anything Lovecraft ever wrote.  All hair Zuthulu!

Until next time have a happy tentacle~

Cthulhu's Day Out

E.A.P. at 200

Today is Edgar Allen Poe's 200th birthday. I've not much to say about the man himself except that I respect him in the same regards as did jack Torrence: as America's greatest hack. Other than that, I love him.



For the sports fans among our readers here is a great Poe-centric projection of the Baltimore Ravens's season.

Earlier this morning if you felt a presence around you it wasn't Mr. Poe, he was busy elsewhere- at a seance in Richmond (or at least that's what some where hoping.)

For the creative types who like Poe could benefit from a friend maybe this will help you through those cold and unforgiving nights.

Or, if you'd rather just have a laugh, as always the people at Uncyclopedia have what can only be considered the definitive biography of Poe.~

"Edgar Allan Poe, being a 'preemie' man himself, wrote many essays containing explicit premature ejaculation references, one of which was naturally entitled The Premature Ejaculation. In addition, he wrote a self-help essay, Thou Art the Man to assist the community men in maintaining their pride. Edgar Allan Poe's face is still featured on many commercial condoms and is sometimes viewed as a thwart against prematurely spunkin' it. The catchphrase typically labled on the condom reads, 'How they tingle, tingle, tingle, In the icy air of night!'"

Finally a terrific cartoon from the 1950s adapted from Poe's classic The Tell Tale Heart narrated by Humbert Humbert.  


If you're still interested in EAP after this little round up I suggest tonight that you open a bottle of wine and a good book while you settle in for a relax evening with all your friends a family who happen to be suffering from tuberculosis.  Enjoy.

Also of special note today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I am entirely grateful to the man and his legacy- much more than I am to Edgar Allen Poe's. I hope you all have a great day and have a chance to watch the Inauguration tomorrow.

Literary Roundup part 3

Third verse same as the first-

In a hurry? Are Sparknotes just too time consuming for you? Than read all you need here at Book-A-Minute, the most condensed reading room on the net. Some greats are the entries for Dune, The Collected Works of H.P. Lovecraft , A Tale of Two Cities , The Collected Works of E.A. Poe and Finnegans Wake. Many of the synopses may seem cynical and overly critical of the works but it's Matt's belief and mine as well that there is no way that someone could be so precisely funny and pointed in their interpretations of these books without actually understanding and enjoying them. I guess it's all part of the fun of things.

Here's a poet I found rather interesting. His name is John Gillespie Magee, Jr. and his poem High Flight was quoted by Ronald Reagan in his speech commemorating the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster. ~

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor even eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Recently I read The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch by Philip K. Dick. I very much enjoyed it. Of all the Dick I've read I found it the most enjoyable and the least scattering of his genius. I also recently mentioned Dick's sort story "The Electric Ant" in a post and dropped that soon in the new year Marvel will be putting out a comic based on the story- expect more on this as it develops. Further more, I'm become a real Dick head it would seem; I wrote to the PKDSociety but the P.O. Box no longer exists and my letter as returned to me stamped informing me so. If your interested in become a Dick head too look here at The Complete Stories of Philip K. Dick Vol. 5
and start using Dickian to describe things the same way others use Dickinsian.

The Ayn Rand Corner:
The new York magazine has collected some delightful excerpts from TheAtlasphere.com, an online Ayn Rand dating community. Some of my favorites are lostpainting, thustotyrants, and Lewis who says "Really, nothing is hotter than an accomplished girl in a suit, as long as she is willing to settle down and have my children."

Also on the menu is THE ABRIDGED ATLAS SHRUGGED from SpudWorks. The story succeeds as a web-lob where it failed as a novel.

Finaly for the Tolkienists and Ringers among our readers. This is a short a sweet little reading from what I can only assume was an early version The Hobbit about Bilbo's short short and sweet... well, you know. NSFW.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

You can find the story in its entirety here.

And coming soon my review of Ezra Pound's posthumous and greatest work- Ezra Pound: Ezra Pound's Caged Wisdom.

Happy reading,
Caleb

Not to be Confused

After a conversation with Matt the other day about Virginia Woolf I feel there are a few things I should make clear as a matter literacy and public record. Do not let these things confuse you in the future. Though many may seem the same to the untrained eye believe me, they are not.

This is Thomas Wolfe who, born at the turn of the century, is notable for writing Look Homeward, Angel and You Can't Go Home Again before dying of tuberculosis 1938.

Thomas Wolfe

This is Tom Wolfe who in the 1960s and 70s became famouse as part of the New Journalism movement. He wrote such classics as The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, The Right Stuff, and The Bonfire of the Vanities. He often wears white.

Tom Wolfe

This is Naked Lunch, it's a book by William S. Burroughs. This is a naked lunch. The differences are negligible.

This is The Electric Ant-

a short story by Philip K. Dick about a man who awakes from a car crash an organic robot (artwork from the upcoming Marvel Comic mini-series based on the story.) And these are electric ants.

Toni Morrison writes about African-Americans and is alive and well. Tony Hillerman wrote about Native Americans and died recently. As did Michael Crichton (died I mean) who wrote about dinosaurs and the such. But this is a Kraken-

...which should not be confused with Cthulhu-

Who was thought up of by this man-

H.P. Lovecraft

Who is not to be confused with Edgar Allen Poe.

"BYE!"

CML

Graveyards

When I was born my family lived across the street from a graveyard. There was our house, a brown brick Tudor building with a high isosceles roof and lead set windows. Then the black flattop of the street dividing us from St. Alphonsus church with its roof twice as high and slender as ours and stained panes of glass and flat steps in front of a shallow church yard. And then there was the graveyard full of faded and new tombstones and great big carvings of christ in the midst of his crucifixion.

There were days when my brother and I would play between the stones and others when we would slink past them to the corner store. And other times when I'd go there by myself, crossing the street and squeezing through the fence to wander dumbfounded to the far side of the yard like wading out into the deep end of swimming pool. I'd pick up pieces of trash or crunch dry leaves and grass in my little hands before rushing home again, too scared to stay too long, evading any horrible thoughts I could like trying to escape a Band-Aid caught in my wake.

Before I knew what a calendar was I was easy pray for Friday the 13th tricks by my brother. It didn't matter that I didn't know who Jason was, or what a Friday or a 13 was- I understood bad luck and fright as well as anyone did. When I got older my mother's stories about how at the 'old house' (that house) ouija boards would never work right and tarot readings always seemed congested only fueled my fearful memories. Memories which even today, when graveyards do little to scare or thrill me, are made electric again with the static rustle of Halloween over the street drains.

A feeling I also got when reading the first few pages of Neil Gaiman’s new work The Graveyard Book as I leafed through it at the bookstore the other day. It's a delightful collection of stories (8 to be precise) which together tell the story of Nobody Owens, a child raised by ghosts. As Gaiman describes the thing it's The Jungle Book, with ghosts instead of animals and graves rather than trees.


All and all it's a enjoyable book intended for young readers but accessible by anyone but what I've been enjoying most about the book is the continued coolness it's booktour is allowing Gaiman to cultivate. Over the summer I read Gaiman's first true novel, American Gods, after hearing he had released the full text onto the internet free of charge. I loved the book but even more I think I enjoyed what Gaiman had accomplished- he grew his readership. Months after releasing the book on the web Gaiman's book sales saw huge growth. But what is even more impressive than that is that Gaiman recognized what many good authors today have also seen, that even though the author owns the copyright it's the readers who own the book. And the more interactive and giving an author can be the more receptive and gracious their readership will become.

With The Graveyard Book Gaiman decided to deal with the graciousness of his readers before the demand for him flooded his readings and elongated his signings. Instead of releasing The Graveyard Book online as he did before with American Gods, Gaiman did what with a book like this could be considered one better.  He read it aloud.  In nine nights at nine different book readings Gaiman read through his book, each night linking a video of the reading on his website for anyone to enjoy.  And, with a children's story like The Graveyard Book it's hard not to enjoy having it read to you the way so many other books had been so long ago. 

I recommend you take a look through the book if you get the chance, if only to experience the great artwork of Dave McKean.  McKean also did the artwork for another Halloween book, a personal favorite of mine, by a favorite of BSD's- Ray Bradbury's The Homecoming.  The Homecoming is another amazing autumnal story perfect for Halloween time.

You can find Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book here. If you have the time it is an easy and fun listen, especially this time of year. Happy Halloween everybody.

CML