A couple years ago while enjoying one of the Harry Potter novels at Bertonlino's Espresso Bar, a lady condescended to submit her opinion to me that I was only reading the book because of all the hype. And then again this week a coworker incredulously expressed, "Not you too" when she saw me going to break with the first volume of the Twilight series, and when I asked her to clarify her objection to my reading selection it boiled down to all the accompanying hype. In neither case had either lady read the books they were denigrating.
So here's my point and it will only take a moment as I'm not feeling particularly diatribal or haranguish. Hype may cause everyone to listen to the same music or to watch the same TV show, but when it comes to everyone reading the same books... hype can't do that so easily and I'll tell you why. It takes five minutes to listen to a song. It takes less than an hour to watch a TV episode. But when it comes to reading a book it takes about twenty hours. If you break that up into 45 minutes sessions with three sessions every two days... well it would take roughly three weeks to read a book unless you were engrossed in a "page-turner" in which case you could finish it off much sooner. But still the far greater investment of time should be obvious. Add to that the disinclination of many people to read anything at all. Maybe they're too busy or maybe too distracted or maybe too lazy, but whatever the reason, you don't have to look far before you find someone who will admit unequivocally they do not read.
In order for a book to be widely circulated and widely read, the author has to produce something irresistible. It may not be on par with Faulkner or Joyce for literary genius (thank God), but they can tell a story in such a way that the overwhelming majority of readers will be undeniably riveted. Otherwise all the marketing and hoopla and gushing critical reviews in the world will provoke about as much attention as you pay to your neighborhood philharmonic that you didn't even know exists. When it comes to successful fiction, hype is not enough.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Martyrdom in the Garden of Eden
My scars have the prettiest names
The softest smiles
The sweetest lilting laughter
The loveliest dreams
Though broken and shattered
Monday, September 14, 2009
The Abomination of Nonconformity
I'm tired of the presupposition that I must be unhappy because I'm not in a relationship. I was talking to a female friend who's excited about her wedding coming up next year and I told her she's lucky to have someone with whom she can be happy because in general I don't think people really belong in relationships. Is that a crazy thing to say? Humor me for a moment and see how many couples you can think of off the top of your head whose relationships you can actually admire. I can think of about four. On the other hand I notice dozens of people cheating on each other, lying to each other, and otherwise attempting to project an impression upon the world of contentedness that I find tragically dubious. I've spent most of my life being single and yes I am always keeping an eye out for a lady that would make a good companion for me, but I seriously appreciate that I'm probably happier alone than most people who have someone. Today I spent about 19 minutes on the phone with a friend, but other than that I was completely free by which I mean that no one who knows me had any idea where I was or what I was doing... and very likely tomorrow will be the same. It may sound terrifying to be so isolated, but sometimes it's preferrable to checking in with a significant other hundreds of times each week especially the two constituents of the couple are no longer mutually fascinated.
And then I think, okay... but if two people really love each other... they would enjoy that constant link between each other of knowing what the other is doing at any given moment even with miles between them. But again... I'm not so sure I can suspend my skepticism in this matter. Of course infatuated lovers can't get enough of each other, but that stage doesn't last forever. Except for a very few lucky star-crossed sweethearts that love each other effortlessly for their whole lives. Those are so rare. I'd sure love to follow their example, but I just don't believe wishing for that kind of magic makes it come to fruition.
First how am I going to find a girl that I find irresistible when my standards are so insanely unrealistic. Briefly, she needs to be gorgeous and genius and creative and hilarious and kind and passionate about me. So how often do I run into someone like that? Okay, honestly? Never. I mean I'm probably always going to be in love with about four girls from past. I'll always be enchanted with them, but aside from them having almost completely forgotten about ever having known me... they really didn't have the first idea of what true love is about.
And secondly... even if I found her... that doesn't automatically transform me into the kind of person that can handle a relationship. I'm morose and lazy and jaded and goofy and exhausting. And I have an utterly dismal history when it comes to not being single.
But that's kind of my point. I'm probably not relationship material, but that's okay because I'm not in a relationship. I only wish more people would experiment with being single so that it could be perceived as a more acceptable approach to life instead of an unfortunate destiny to be avoideed at any expense. Why should miserable victims of societal conformity feel sorry for me because I'm alone?
And then I think, okay... but if two people really love each other... they would enjoy that constant link between each other of knowing what the other is doing at any given moment even with miles between them. But again... I'm not so sure I can suspend my skepticism in this matter. Of course infatuated lovers can't get enough of each other, but that stage doesn't last forever. Except for a very few lucky star-crossed sweethearts that love each other effortlessly for their whole lives. Those are so rare. I'd sure love to follow their example, but I just don't believe wishing for that kind of magic makes it come to fruition.
First how am I going to find a girl that I find irresistible when my standards are so insanely unrealistic. Briefly, she needs to be gorgeous and genius and creative and hilarious and kind and passionate about me. So how often do I run into someone like that? Okay, honestly? Never. I mean I'm probably always going to be in love with about four girls from past. I'll always be enchanted with them, but aside from them having almost completely forgotten about ever having known me... they really didn't have the first idea of what true love is about.
And secondly... even if I found her... that doesn't automatically transform me into the kind of person that can handle a relationship. I'm morose and lazy and jaded and goofy and exhausting. And I have an utterly dismal history when it comes to not being single.
But that's kind of my point. I'm probably not relationship material, but that's okay because I'm not in a relationship. I only wish more people would experiment with being single so that it could be perceived as a more acceptable approach to life instead of an unfortunate destiny to be avoideed at any expense. Why should miserable victims of societal conformity feel sorry for me because I'm alone?
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
FBI Most Wanted (Someone told me I'm funny)
Last night this girl got close to me and started undressing and I was like... Hey... I want to be honest with you... it's been a long time since I've done this and I'm basically nervous. She said, don't worry honey, it's like riding a bicycle. And I was like... You see what I mean? I definitely don't remember that. Do I need to do some peddling or something?
They say hindsight is 20/20. Seems to me it's when you're looking at someone's ass.
A fun thing to say on a first date with a girl is how much you enjoy getting to that point in a relationship when you're so comfortable with each other that you can enjoy silence.... when neither one of you has to be saying anything. Then when she starts to agree, go... shhh... quiet time!
I've been shopping online for an Audi. My last five girlfriends were all innies.
If I have twins... a girl and a boy, I'm naming them Cinderella and Cindefella.
Someone offered me a Werthers Original, I was like you could save money with Werther's Unoriginals. They taste the same.
I wasted a month of my life in Egypt looking for a town called Bumfuck.
Do you think kids teased Dick Van Dyke when he was a kid?
Have you ever noticed that usually when someone begins a statement by saying, "There's no question about that" they immediately proceed to answer a question about that?
I'm driving. You're in the backseat. You know where I'm going. I don't. I say, Which way do I turn? You say Left. I want to make sure so I say Left? And you say Right.
I love it when I tell someone my birthday is in January and they're like Really!! Oh my God, my sister's birthday is in January too and her boyfriend and his mother were both born in February! And his dad and I are both March babies! And my grandfather and my mother were both born in November. But my Uncle Tobias is the only one in the family that was born in August. Everyone else was born in a cold month... either Winter or Fall or way early Spring!
God forbid we be born on the same day. There are like 365 days in a year, typically... and only 6.75 billion people so the odds against two people being born on the same day... TWO people!!! It just boggles the mind... it really really does.
I fucking hate cheating. No way I would ever cheat on anyone. Most number of girlfriends I've ever had at one time is ONE! Maybe two... at the most.... okay usually two but that doesn't count because they never know about each other. And honestly even if they did it still wouldn't count because I never have any real feelings for them. Like I tell them I have feelings for them because you have to do that to get them to spread their legs, right, but it's never true... so that doesn't count, you see what I mean?
Seriously, my idea of the perfect romantic evening is me and a girl.... okay.... I haven't worked out the details yet, but I think that's a pretty good start.
Masturbating is kind of like going to church. I mean in either case I'm practicing for something that's probably never going to happen.
I have this cologne by Gucci. It's called Gucci. They're working on a fragrance for infants called Gucci Gucci Goo.
I'm writing a self help book. It's called Don't Sweat the Small Stuff and it's all Starting to Piss me Off!
I was born on the 29th day of the month and at the time my dad was 29. So 29 years later when I turned 29 on the 29th I bet $29 on a horse wearing the number 29 and you know what? It would have been cool if I'd won.
I wonder how Christmas got its name. I wonder if maybe in the Nativity ~ Mary was having a hard time during labor and if Joseph maybe tried to encourage her by saying hold on there Mary, I can see its head... it's coming... and then she said sarcastically, So's Christmas!
I prefer saying Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas. That way I don't offend anyone who hasn't accepted Jesus as their savior. You and I both know they're going to hell, why rub salt in their wounds.? You know... this time tomorrow Satan will be snacking on their scrawny deep fried little heathen ass, so where do I get off alluding to like the only chance they have of avoiding the perpetual blistering incinerator of scorching white nuclear annihilation that yawns before them?
I have a bumper sticker that says WTFWJD?
I have a photogenic memory. Can't remember shit, but looks nice in a frame.
I love when I'm looking for a movie at Blockbuster and I can't find it so I ask for help and the clerk comes and looks in the same place I just fucking looked. I'm like... what are the chances that I forgot that D comes after C in the alphabet?
Not saying I'm a genius but I went to a few schools that Einstein never even heard of.
I read in a scientific journal that you can tell about a person's sexuality according to their chocolate preferences. Like if a guy is into white chocolate, he will be attracted to women with fair complexions. Or if he's into dark chocolate... darker women. Personally I love milk chocolate... uhhh so.... Lactating women I guess?
Chocolate, incidentally, influenced me to be an atheist. I said hi to my friend, Mae, one evening and she was eating chocolate and when she smiled at me I thought... would a loving God make chocolate and poop look the same? Reiminds me of that Disney Movie where Winnie the Pooh finds the Honey Bucket at the concert... not a pretty sight.
Does jelly come from a jelly bean?
When I'm drawing a blank it doesn't take long.
Sometimes I'll take two pieces of bread and put them together and eat them. It's like a sloppy joe without all the mess.
For a long time I thought I might be a superhero, but I couldn't identify my weakness. You know how Superman has his kryptonite and then I figured it out... for me it's porn.
I have three prosthetics. One on each arm and then... well I can't tell you about the other one.
Bi-polar people shouldn't bitch. You know how they go through these drastic swings up and down? Well I've been diagnosed as south polar... just one long drawn out down.
I was going to cancel cable, but really couldn't live without my Oxygen Network.
The elements irritate me... obviously C is for Cookie, but how do you get K for Potassium?
I have another bumber sticker. It says If you can read this, whoopdie freakin' do!
I think it's nice when you're all smiles, but you can't go anywhere without legs.
I tried to breed a horse with a lizard, but customs won't let you into the country with a mare~iguana.
I always thought paintballing sounded like a weird fetish...I didn't even know they were using guns.
I bought one of those books on tape, but it was a coloring book... so kind of boring.
They test me at work for drug abuse... which is dumb... everyone knows I'm nothing but kind to drugs... always giving them a place to stay when they're on the run or whatever.
I hate when a step ladder tries to take the place of your real ladder.
I think it's great when you're at work and you're sweeping the floor or shining the windows and some lady says, You can come clean my house. When is that ever realistic?
They say hindsight is 20/20. Seems to me it's when you're looking at someone's ass.
A fun thing to say on a first date with a girl is how much you enjoy getting to that point in a relationship when you're so comfortable with each other that you can enjoy silence.... when neither one of you has to be saying anything. Then when she starts to agree, go... shhh... quiet time!
I've been shopping online for an Audi. My last five girlfriends were all innies.
If I have twins... a girl and a boy, I'm naming them Cinderella and Cindefella.
Someone offered me a Werthers Original, I was like you could save money with Werther's Unoriginals. They taste the same.
I wasted a month of my life in Egypt looking for a town called Bumfuck.
Do you think kids teased Dick Van Dyke when he was a kid?
Have you ever noticed that usually when someone begins a statement by saying, "There's no question about that" they immediately proceed to answer a question about that?
I'm driving. You're in the backseat. You know where I'm going. I don't. I say, Which way do I turn? You say Left. I want to make sure so I say Left? And you say Right.
I love it when I tell someone my birthday is in January and they're like Really!! Oh my God, my sister's birthday is in January too and her boyfriend and his mother were both born in February! And his dad and I are both March babies! And my grandfather and my mother were both born in November. But my Uncle Tobias is the only one in the family that was born in August. Everyone else was born in a cold month... either Winter or Fall or way early Spring!
God forbid we be born on the same day. There are like 365 days in a year, typically... and only 6.75 billion people so the odds against two people being born on the same day... TWO people!!! It just boggles the mind... it really really does.
I fucking hate cheating. No way I would ever cheat on anyone. Most number of girlfriends I've ever had at one time is ONE! Maybe two... at the most.... okay usually two but that doesn't count because they never know about each other. And honestly even if they did it still wouldn't count because I never have any real feelings for them. Like I tell them I have feelings for them because you have to do that to get them to spread their legs, right, but it's never true... so that doesn't count, you see what I mean?
Seriously, my idea of the perfect romantic evening is me and a girl.... okay.... I haven't worked out the details yet, but I think that's a pretty good start.
Masturbating is kind of like going to church. I mean in either case I'm practicing for something that's probably never going to happen.
I have this cologne by Gucci. It's called Gucci. They're working on a fragrance for infants called Gucci Gucci Goo.
I'm writing a self help book. It's called Don't Sweat the Small Stuff and it's all Starting to Piss me Off!
I was born on the 29th day of the month and at the time my dad was 29. So 29 years later when I turned 29 on the 29th I bet $29 on a horse wearing the number 29 and you know what? It would have been cool if I'd won.
I wonder how Christmas got its name. I wonder if maybe in the Nativity ~ Mary was having a hard time during labor and if Joseph maybe tried to encourage her by saying hold on there Mary, I can see its head... it's coming... and then she said sarcastically, So's Christmas!
I prefer saying Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas. That way I don't offend anyone who hasn't accepted Jesus as their savior. You and I both know they're going to hell, why rub salt in their wounds.? You know... this time tomorrow Satan will be snacking on their scrawny deep fried little heathen ass, so where do I get off alluding to like the only chance they have of avoiding the perpetual blistering incinerator of scorching white nuclear annihilation that yawns before them?
I have a bumper sticker that says WTFWJD?
I have a photogenic memory. Can't remember shit, but looks nice in a frame.
I love when I'm looking for a movie at Blockbuster and I can't find it so I ask for help and the clerk comes and looks in the same place I just fucking looked. I'm like... what are the chances that I forgot that D comes after C in the alphabet?
Not saying I'm a genius but I went to a few schools that Einstein never even heard of.
I read in a scientific journal that you can tell about a person's sexuality according to their chocolate preferences. Like if a guy is into white chocolate, he will be attracted to women with fair complexions. Or if he's into dark chocolate... darker women. Personally I love milk chocolate... uhhh so.... Lactating women I guess?
Chocolate, incidentally, influenced me to be an atheist. I said hi to my friend, Mae, one evening and she was eating chocolate and when she smiled at me I thought... would a loving God make chocolate and poop look the same? Reiminds me of that Disney Movie where Winnie the Pooh finds the Honey Bucket at the concert... not a pretty sight.
Does jelly come from a jelly bean?
When I'm drawing a blank it doesn't take long.
Sometimes I'll take two pieces of bread and put them together and eat them. It's like a sloppy joe without all the mess.
For a long time I thought I might be a superhero, but I couldn't identify my weakness. You know how Superman has his kryptonite and then I figured it out... for me it's porn.
I have three prosthetics. One on each arm and then... well I can't tell you about the other one.
Bi-polar people shouldn't bitch. You know how they go through these drastic swings up and down? Well I've been diagnosed as south polar... just one long drawn out down.
I was going to cancel cable, but really couldn't live without my Oxygen Network.
The elements irritate me... obviously C is for Cookie, but how do you get K for Potassium?
I have another bumber sticker. It says If you can read this, whoopdie freakin' do!
I think it's nice when you're all smiles, but you can't go anywhere without legs.
I tried to breed a horse with a lizard, but customs won't let you into the country with a mare~iguana.
I always thought paintballing sounded like a weird fetish...I didn't even know they were using guns.
I bought one of those books on tape, but it was a coloring book... so kind of boring.
They test me at work for drug abuse... which is dumb... everyone knows I'm nothing but kind to drugs... always giving them a place to stay when they're on the run or whatever.
I hate when a step ladder tries to take the place of your real ladder.
I think it's great when you're at work and you're sweeping the floor or shining the windows and some lady says, You can come clean my house. When is that ever realistic?
Friday, June 26, 2009
Prolific Contempt
There can be no doubt I'm writing fewer blogs lately. One problem with that is that when I finally get around to writing a new one, I have way too much to say, so I want to write more of a book right now than a blog, but I haven't the time. I want to rush it so I can take a shower and drop into my favorite restaurant for some Thai dinner before heading to work.What got me thinking about this newest blog is a movie based on Silas Marner, a short classic by George Elliot. I read the book some time in the past year, but only got around to watching the movie yesterday.
A Synopsis Which Will Spoil the Ending For You
Silas is a lonely weaver who prefers to be left alone. Through hard work he gradually collects a fortune but one day a rich man's son, having squandered a lot of money entrusted to him, wanders into Marner's cottage while the weaver is away and discovers the lonely man's fortune and steals it. The thief disappears, so his brother inherits their father's fortune... but this brother is not without blemish either, for he has a daughter he doesn't want anyone to know about because the mother is an opium addict of poor reputation. He's relieved when the mother dies from illness which frees him up to marry the woman he longs for. The little girl is then discovered by Marner the weaver and he adopts her. She becomes to him more precious than the fortune he lost. At the end of the book the body of the thief brother is discovered in a swamp less than a mile from Marner's cottage along with the gold he'd stolen. The money is given back to the weaver. By this time the little girl has blossomed into a happy beautiful young woman and her true father wishes to assume the role that biologically has been his all along. So he comes to visit Marner trying to persuade him to relinquish the daughter.So I watched the movie and I'm thinking how insane is it that this rich man would come over to the cottage and begin by apologizing on behalf of his brother for the theft of the weaver's fortune many years prior and then promptly endeavors to steal a much greater fortune, the lovely daughter!
But despicable as it was, I had to admit it didn't seem unrealistic. That's because lately I find myself particularly aware of how despicable people, in general, can be. Just an example, yesterday while approaching the parking garage where I work I stopped for two pedestrians crossing the street, a man and a woman. It seemed to me they were intentionally walking as slow as humanly possible. This kind of thing makes my vision go red and even white hot... for all the world like the planet belonged to them and it was my special privilege to have the pleasure of waiting for them to get the bloody fuck out of my way.
Now, there was a time when I could overlook anyone's faults just by reminding myself of the hell it seems each person has to endure at one point or another in their lives. Life isn't easy for any of us, I used to think, and so I would feel a brotherly compassion for virtually everyone. Shall I blame it on the aging process that I am no longer so understanding? Is that a part of growing older that I reach this point where I think, no, it hasn't got anything to do with your rotten childhood that you treat people the way you do, it's merely that you utterly suck!
I know people that seem to maintain a more even keel... like this one fellow, Chris that I play volleyball with at the YMCA. I don't know him real well, but I'm so irritable when I play because the egos out there exacerbate my equanimity righteously. I hate how people will critique my performance after every play. I mean in volleyball you make mistakes all the time... everyone does... I mean one team or the other is going to come up on the short end of every play so I'm like do we really want to articulate whose fault it is each and every time? To put this in perspective... I'm going on about 200 hours of volleyball with these people and I still haven't critiqued anyone after any single play. Certainly I've thought to myself on countless occasions "Gee, would it kill you to take at least one step toward making a play there?" but I don't say anything because... what the hell good does it do? Anyway... Chris plays with the same stupid cast of characters just about as frequently as I do and I notice how it doesn't seem to get to him. He has a way of shrugging it off... you know... not sweating the small stuff... and you know... I admire his style and maybe I'm learning from it too... hopefully.
But still I wonder if others have noticed this about growing older... that you lose a little of your inclination to give people a little slack and you begin to see assholes as assholes instead of people who are probably having a bad day.I'm opposed to making the aging process any easier than it already is. Like Sophia Loren, I believe if you feel aches and pains and soreness in your joints when you get up out of your seat, you have to just spring up like a kid anyway because once you surrender to that feeling of getting old, that's precisely when you get old. So... carrying that to my attitude... I think I'm going to have to fight that disgust with people that I've been cultivating. I'm going to have to.... groan.... be nice to people I can't stand.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Celebrty Cluster Death
There's a saying that celebrities die in three's. This week it was Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and Michael Jackson. Pondering death. Pondering life. When we were kids, we didn't have TV so I never watched Charlie's Angels and didn't really know much about Farrah Fawcett, but my older brother was in love with her. Likewise when Michael Jackson took over the music scene in the early 80's I didn't have access to MTV and didn't know anything about his music. I understood that kids were dressing like him (including the wearing of only one glove). Ed McMahon I was a little more acquainted with in the mid 80's as I was secretly confiscating a miniature black and white TV each night and bringing it into my room and watching late night programming as deep into the morning as I could manage to stay awake. Can't say that I ever found him very entertaining, but there he was every night chatting with Johnny Carson.
Not only have they all left us in the time it takes to recover from last weekend's decadence, but I notice I'm getting used to this sort of thing. When you're a kid most of the celebrities that are old enough to pass away are too old for you to have ever heard of; not so when you grow up. When Jimmy Stewart died one day after Robert Mitchum in 1997, I was devastated. And when Princess Diana and Mother Theresa checked died only five days apart, I was shocked, but after a while you get a little desensitized. This is kind of what people do eventually... you know... when it's not living that they're doing anymore... when it's the alternative.
Yesterday at work I referred to one of my co-workers as Ms. Brinkley. I was just teasing her because her first name is Christy, but the joke was lost inasmuch as she'd never heard of the world famous pioneer of super-modeling, and she began questioning our other co-workers in pursuit of an explanation. A minute later she pounced on me with the discovery that Christy Brinkley is old! How could I have referred to her as an old person? In my signature smartass fashion I reasoned with her, "By far most of the people that have ever been born are dead now - compared to them, Christy is still a baby."
I just wanted to write a blog tonight, you know, during this blink of an eye during which, amazingly, I happen to share Christy Brinkley's statistically defiant status among the living.
Not only have they all left us in the time it takes to recover from last weekend's decadence, but I notice I'm getting used to this sort of thing. When you're a kid most of the celebrities that are old enough to pass away are too old for you to have ever heard of; not so when you grow up. When Jimmy Stewart died one day after Robert Mitchum in 1997, I was devastated. And when Princess Diana and Mother Theresa checked died only five days apart, I was shocked, but after a while you get a little desensitized. This is kind of what people do eventually... you know... when it's not living that they're doing anymore... when it's the alternative.
Yesterday at work I referred to one of my co-workers as Ms. Brinkley. I was just teasing her because her first name is Christy, but the joke was lost inasmuch as she'd never heard of the world famous pioneer of super-modeling, and she began questioning our other co-workers in pursuit of an explanation. A minute later she pounced on me with the discovery that Christy Brinkley is old! How could I have referred to her as an old person? In my signature smartass fashion I reasoned with her, "By far most of the people that have ever been born are dead now - compared to them, Christy is still a baby."
I just wanted to write a blog tonight, you know, during this blink of an eye during which, amazingly, I happen to share Christy Brinkley's statistically defiant status among the living.
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