Yippee. Does anyone else go out of their way to not say the word “blog” out loud? Ever?
The man who seems (to me) to be his obvious replacement is conspicuously absent from the likely list of candidates at the bottom of the article…
I’m not posting a link, but if you know what I’m talking about, go read. Now! (sniffle)
1. I’ve had the various old school songs stuck in my head for a few days, and today I was out with the pooch for his morning constitutional and accidentally said “Mock the Reich” instead of “Rock the Mike.” Ok, it was early, but I’m pretty sure there’s a parody in there somewhere.
2. Man I love long weekends. I got enough sleep this weekend to make up for a month of insomnia.
3. So, this book, He’s Just Not That Into You… Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with it. We’ve all been oblivious. But, it’s based on the Sex and the City episode, right? Correct me if I’m wrong, but the guy was into Miranda in that episode, wasn’t he? Didn’t he have some kind of gastro-intestinal malfunction? Is this really the best choice of tie-in?
4. I heard this on the radio in about 1996, and it cracked me up. I didn’t around to downloading it until Saturday, because I couldn’t remember the name. I’m now in full eggnog mode. For your amusement, Paul Simon and Steve Martin. (circa 1990, as far as I can tell…) (expired)
I read a theory several years ago that made more sense to me (and could easily be related, I think). It said that extreme hyperactivity was related to breathing trauma at birth.
The three biggest hyper spazzes that I knew at the time, and still the ones who come to mind, are me, my baby sister, and my cousin Seth. Seth went breech very late, and had to be taken out via emergency caesarian. Megan was a meconium aspiration baby, and was on a heart and lung machine for a few weeks. And my umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck three times. I know, the plural of anecdote isn’t data, but this all matches the original study.
If you aren’t, you know a kid who is. Discuss.
Ok, I’ll bite.
Waiting for the Galactic Bus, by Parke Godwin - I’ve named all of these first three “my favorite book” at various times. This one is about two brothers who are stranded on a school field trip and accidentally create sentient life, and have to handle it themselves. It’s funny and serious and hopeful and very, very surreal. You might recognize a few of the main characters. I’ve read it five or six times.
Bridge of Birds, by Barry Hughart - This is the most beautiful book I’ve ever read. It’s a fairy tale by an American about a China that never existed. The author wrote two sequels, and then never wrote anything else. I think I’ve read this one four or five times.
Good Omens, by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman - A derangedly funny story about the apocalypse. Three or four times. They’re both such amazing writers, and this is a great combination, especially if you’re familiar enough with their styles to figure out who thought of what.
Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand - Tough call between this one and Fountainhead, but I hate Dominique Francon. I mean, I hate John Galt for the same reason, but there’s less of him to hate. I’ve only read this twice, but Dagny changed the way I look at the whole world.
The Source, by James A. Michener - This is very long, but it’s all you need to know about Israel pre-1972. It’s beautifully written and crazy on details.
Peter Pan, by JM Barrie - Does 1911 count as modern? I will agree that the Harry Potter books don’t hold the same magic after the first read (even tho I’ve read Philosopher’s Stone six times…). This does. I don’t recommend it for very young children, unless the Unfortunate Events books didn’t give them nightmares, because it’s quite violent. But none of the movies have even touched on the main theme, which is honor, and everyone can use a lesson in that.
I haven’t re-read The Red Tent, by Anita Diamant yet, because I just read it for the first time about a month ago. But I will. Soon.
Being Black Friday, I’m seriously considering getting off my lazy, turkey-laden ass and buying a tree. Now, the decision. I have ten-foot ceilings. Do I go all greedy American overconsumer and buy a 9-1/2 foot tree?
I think I do.
(Admittedly, I may be dissuaded when I see the price for one…)
Update: And they just closed the office. Wish me luck on the way home…