Postcard Extravaganza: #1

To answer your questions: Yes, it has been a long while since I said I'd send people postcards. And Yes, I haven't made much progress on them. And Yes, I still plan to send all you requesters postcards. It's just that my time is often sucked away by 2 part-time jobs, the search for more/better jobs, and doing fun things like reading to distract me from my poverty. But rest assured that before the year is out I will have gotten to them all.

As we have seen I'm doing these rather sporadically, so instead of posting them in set batches—like I did last time—I'm just going to post whatever I've done whenever I feel like it.

Here's the first card! It was for my cousin Natasha.




Hopefully number two will be along shortly, but it is taking me forever. It involves drawing a lot of things that I am horrible at drawing and thus I have started to become afraid of working on it. But I already have thumbnails for 3 & 4 so after I conquer my fears the cards of the second card the next few should should flow out much quicker.

Stupid Poems 4 Everyone: Part 3

-Warning: There is some naughty language going on in some of these poems.-

-...there's actually quite a lot of naughty language...-

-...and some drug references...-

-...in fact I'm gonna lose my poetic license over this...-

-...so consider yourself warned.-


One Wish

If I had one wish
I'd wish for a unicorn.
One with a silvery coat
and a wondrous unihorn.

I'd ride it everywhere I went
and feed it only syrup.
I'd look so very dashing
when my feet were in the stirrups.

Everyday when I got up
I'd brush its handsome mane,
Then I'd eat some breakfast
and do some more cocaine.



Mister Sunflower

Oh look, there he is,
the infamous Mr. Sunflower.
He never laughs or smiles,
he just frowns and stares and glowers.

You'd swear he had no emotion;
his face is just so dour.
And his personality is so dry
he'd be more aptly called a "flour".

All the kids are scared of him,
when he's around they cower.
I guess when you get right down to it
for a bright and yellow sunflower
he's sure not a very fun flower.



School Nurse

Oh, who is the one at school
who loves to fight and curse?
Why who else could it be
but our foul mouthed school nurse.

She likes to hit, she likes to spit,
she loves to start up fights,
and if you ask her not to
she'll just punch right out your lights.

I tried to tell me parents,
but they just laughed as if I were joking
and said, "You can only be so mad
at the one who prevents all you kids from croaking.



Chromatic Perception

There was a girl
who loved to twirl
and who could see what others can't;
she could see emotions
as colored oceans
of a streaming beauty that would enchant.

The feeling dread
was colored red.
The feeling joy light blue.
Lust was a sheen
of minty green,
but love was a pinkish hue.

So when she spun
the colors would run
into a cacophony of pigmentation.
And when she felt unsure,
she could still see the allure
of a world with such colorful sensations.



Catfight

How dare you call me a bitch
you slutty little cunt!
The only men you've ever got
were the ones who knew you love to grunt.

You goddamned dirty tramp,
you pretentious little cocksucker!
You think you could steal my man
with your nasty Bangkok pucker?

You wanna start something you piece of shit?
I'll stab you right in your dirty cooch!
He's my man and he would never submit
to fuck some skanky pooch,

What do you mean 'your man',
you cankerous crabbed up whore?
I'll tell you right now that my pussy
is the only one that man adores.

You must got semen in your brain
from all your back alley boning.
Just yesterday he and I spent the night
doing some really kinky moaning.

Wait a sec, are you for real?
That cheating motherfucker!
You sayin' he slept with me last afternoon
then left to get his cock another sucker?

What? Last afternoon?
That shit stained pencil prick!
He told me he had gone to church,
that dishonest douchebag dick!

Fuck, that motherfucker had best watch out
'cause I'm gonna rip off his goddamn penile erection
then shove it so far up his ass
it'll be like getting fucked by intravenous injection.

Not before I slice open
his sack of furry balls
then shove 'em right up his cock
like they were supposed to be urethral.

Hey girl, you know, I'm really sorry,
I know mom raised use to be sisters
and we really shouldn't have been fighting
over some worthless fucking mister.

Yeah, I'm sorry too
'bout all those things we said.
How about we go see him together
and make that man-whore dead?

Haha, you know I love you, right?
Even though you one crazy bitch.

Yeah, I know, and I love you too,
though you a skanky warty witch.



Dogs Can't Talk

I'm very glad my dog can't talk,
I don't think he'd have much to say
and I'd rather not have to listen
to how he spent his day.

Every day a boring story
about how he licked his balls
or another awful anecdote
about every squirrel he saw.

I can do without that irritation
and prefer these normal barks of his
because overall I'm quite content
with my dog just as he is.



An Eclectic Figure

Has anyone ever told you
that you look a little strange?
Not because of the clothes you wear,
but because of how you were arranged.

I mean you've got temples on your face
and a bridge right on your nose.
A crown upon your head
and an arch right by your toes.

And I have to wonder what they study,
those pupils in your eyes,
though it must be horticulture
for their irises should win a prize.

There are nails in your hands and feet
and hammers in your ears.
There's a set of cheeks upon your face
and another set upon your rear.

Instead of just a set of 2 arms,
like any normal person should,
you've got another set of 4 arms
and all those arms just can't be good.

There's a button in your belly,
a crack right through your butt,
a soul in both your feet,
and punctuation in your gut.

But despite all the things wrong with you
and though you don't look as a person should,
I still really have to say
that I think you actually look quite good.



Sea Cow Blues

Behold the gentle manatee
that's robbed me of my sanity.
I can't start sleeping
'til it stops weeping
and yelling out profanity.

OR

It seems I'm now a manatee,
I've been robbed of my humanity.
I just called that witch
a stupid bitch
and it seems she hates profanity.



Rock, Scissors, Paper

Knock, knock, Hello?
It's Rock!
The toughest SOB
on the whole city block.
And if your name is Scissors
I'll make you disappear
because I'll always crush
each and every pair of shears.
The Papers try to diss me,
but that's just 'cause they miss me,
wanna get up on me
to try and hug and kiss me.
So you better hide your kids
and you better hide your wife
'cause that Paper is a raper
so this Rock makes sure his doors are locked
My allure is irresistible,
you won't need 2 of 3,
after just one meeting
you'll see that I'm the strongest guaranteed.

Yo, yo, Scissors is my name,
cuttin' bitches is my game
and you'll swear I was a virus
by the way I decimate Papyrus.
So unless Paper knows some magic
his end will just be tragic,
so he better call a wizard
'cause his ass is gettin' Scissored.
And don't get me started
on that fat-ass Rock.
Chubby motherfucker,
all meat no cock.
My play is all about finesse,
but that fool ain't got no common sense
'cause there's no room for brains
in a mass thats just plain dense.
Although you will need a soap and scrubber
if he hits you with that blubber,
but he better get a grip
before I snip, snip, snip.

Both your boastin' is just damp air: water vapor.
Everybody know
that there's no toppin' Paper.
Scissors has an ego
and he thinks he's very keen,
but when your ass is getting pounded
it's hard to look that mean.
As for Rock, he's all talk
and he thinks he's awfully tough,
but when you see him belly flop
you can see the closest he comes to crushing
is drinking some orange pop.
But when I smother out his breath
and bring about his timely death,
you'll never find the body
'cause like the combination of a dirty cop
and little pup,
I'm a pro and burying bones
and a pro at cover-ups.



Puzzling Fun

Oh my god, I'm just so bored.
But you know what would be fun?
A brand new jigsaw puzzle,
one that weighs a freaking ton.

We are going to have a blast
sorting through its million pieces.
We'll never be bored again
because the fun only increases!


...okay, so it's been two hours
and I'll admit that I was wrong.
I think we're in over our heads;
a puzzle this big does not belong.

I mean, this puzzle is impossible
and there are puzzle pieces everywhere.
They're coating every surface...
Oh jeez, they're even in my hair!

We'll never find all the pieces,
to try this was foolish I'll confess.
Anyways I guess I'll be heading home,
but good luck with all this mess.



The Autumn Wind

Into the inky darkness of the night
and through the woods I roam.
The only thing inside my head:
the thought of getting home.

The sounding of my footsteps
echoes through the dark
and then is muffled by the silence
of the trees' ever quiet bark.

Like the rattle of a snake
comes the rustle of the leaves,
the sounding of an omen
that send chills right through my sleeves.

Curving 'round the moonlight
and slipping past the leaves,
comes the deathly hollow hand
of the icy autumn breeze.

From then on we walk together,
just the autumn breeze and me,
as it takes from my limbs their feeling
and as it whispers lies with glee.

Oh, the autumn wind may haunt me
and cut into my bones,
but it remains my friend
because at least when we're together
I don't have to be alone.

Jesse Heiman: Prenatal Infant

In April I received this check for the security deposit on my old house:

Professionalism & Dinosaur Stamps

        There's something eerie about applying for a job you've applied for in the past. Especially when the last time you applied you never heard back from them. It's like calling out to someone in the dark. When you call out to them the first time you have a hope that they'll respond. Yet you're met with silence and so you call out again. This time a little of that hope is gone and a little more doubt takes hold. Who knows what will happen? Maybe someone will call back, maybe something will attack from the darkness, or maybe you'll just be met with silence once again.

        You might remember that I've applied to the MCAD Art Cellar&Bookstore before. It did not go over as planned. Apparently demonstrating being a fun personality and easy conversationalist isn't the right plan for a situation like this. But the position is open again and thus I am back again. This time I've scaled back my approach and made the whole thing a little more professional. However, I am not good at wearing suits and sending out boring job applications. No sir. My ties have the three stooges on them and my job applications have fancy fonts and dinosaur stamps!

Because, ladies and gentleman, that is just how I roll.

Book List 2011: Part 3

Hey it's another Book List! You must be so very excited.

Or maybe not. Either way here it is.

* = reread

21.

The Assignation

by. Joyce Carol Oates

A collection of short stories dealing with relationships.

        The cover and some of its reviews would make you think that this book is about love or sex or romance or something. But it's not. Those are all elements in some of the stories, but I think that the subject that ties these stories together is "Relationships". Relationships between lovers, between husbands and wives, between strangers, between families. It's always hard talking about collections because there's so much to them. Of course I enjoyed some stories more than others. Some of them were riveting, others delicately moving, and some of them were too long, others just confusing. But over all I'm glad I gave it a read.

          “She knew that she was in love, he was the person she thought about, obsessively, even when she believed she wasn't thinking of anyone or anything at all. At night when she slept alone, which was most nights; during the day when she made her way like a sleepwalker through a delicate equilibrium of forces,—benevolent forces, dangerous forces, tugs and swerves and unexpected careenings of good and bad luck. If she did things right he would love her, if she did things wrong he would stop loving her, the universe was as simple and as terrible as that: the truth we've always known.”

22.*

Ender's Game

by. Orson Scott Card

Humanity barely survived when the Buggers came to Earth. Now no one knows if or when they'll strike again. A strong military is now an absolute necessity. The best and brightest kids are send to Battle School where they learn to fight and they learn to win. Ender Wiggin is the smartest and most capable kid they've ever met, but because of that he is constantly being tested, forced, denied, and even hated. But what happens when a kid who just wants to be loved is always forced to fight?

        As some of you may remember, this is one of my favorite books. This makes it a very hard book to talk about; it's quite challenging to condense all the things I love about it into single talking points. Do I talk about the interesting plot and the great pacing? Do I talk about the exciting battles? Or do I talk about the intriguing characters? In the end I think it all comes down to the fact that it's relatable. The desire of wanting to be loved, the guilt of hurting someone else, the pain of being hurt, the loneliness of feeling like an outcast. These are all things I think we can all relate to and they're all wrapped up in a great story.

          “"It goes deeper than that. Being here alone with nothing to do, I've been thinking about myself, too. Trying to understand why I hate myself so badly."

          "No, Ender."

          "Don't tell me 'No, Ender.' It took me a long time to realize that I did, but believe me, I did. Do. And it came down to this: In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him. I think it's impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves. And then, in that very moment when I love them—"

          "You beat them." For a moment she was not afraid of his understanding.

          "No, you don't understand. I destroy them. I make it impossible for them to ever hurt me again. I grind them and grind them until they don't exist."”

23.

The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ

by. Philip Pullman

An alternative telling of the story of Jesus and his brother Christ.

        I should've known better than to read a religious book by Philip Pullman. I mean if you've read his His Dark Materials series you'll know he's made his views on religion very clear. I guess I'll start with the things I liked.

        I would say the book's great strength is in how it presents Jesus as a real person and how it presents an alternative version of his miracles. It really illustrates how stories can get away from us and of how quick people are to see things the way they want to see them. If this book was done by someone else, someone who had a modicum of respect for the source material, it probably could've been great. However, Pullman's condescending attitude seeps into the text and in the end you're left without any regard for any of the characters. And chances are that was his intent. His Jesus is a pompous jerk and his Christ is an ignorant liar. The whole thing seems like a blunt attack by someone who thought they were being subtle.

          “Knowing how highly Jesus had regarded John, some of those followers of the Baptist came to Galilee and told him what had happened; and Jesus, wanting to be alone, went out in a boat by himself. No one knew where he had gone, but Christ let one or two people know, and soon the word got around. When Jesus came ashore in what he thought would be a lonely place, he found a great crowed waiting for him.

          He felt sorry for them, and began to speak, and some people who were sick felt themselves uplifted by his presence, and declared themselves cured.

          It was nearly evening, and Jesus' disciples said to him 'This is the middle of nowhere, and all these people need to eat. Tell them to go away now, and find a village where they can buy food. They can't stay here all night.'

          Jesus said 'They don't need to go away. As for food, what have you got between you?'

          'Five loaves and two fishes, master; nothing else.'

          'Give them to me,' said Jesus.

          He took the loaves and the fishes, and blessed them, and then said to the crowd 'See how I share this food out? You do the same. There'll be enough for everyone.'

          And sure enough, it turned out that one man had brought some barley cakes, and another had a couple of apples, and a third had some dried fish, and a fourth had a pocketful of raisins, and so on; and between them all, there was plenty to go round. No one was left hungry. And Christ, watching it all and taking notes recorded this as another miracle.”

24

The Death and Life of the Great American School System:

How Testing and Choice Are Undermining Education

by. Diane Ravitch

An expert discusses the state of the American school system and the problems it's facing.

        This is really a fascinating book. More than that it's compelling. Diane Ravitch actually used to be a supporter of testing and choice in schools, that is until the evidence started piling up and she had to admit she was wrong. Because of this she has an intimate understanding of both sides of the argument. Couple that with the loads of examples, studies, and other evidence (the weapons of a historian of education) she is uniquely suited to rip apart the arguments of her opponents. Even if you're a fan of testing and choice in schools, you'll still learn all about the history of public education, and why public education is so important. It really is a fascinating book and I highly recommend you check it out.

          “So, depending on which economist or statistician one preferred, the achievement gap between races, ethnic groups, and income groups could be closed in three years (Sanders), four years (Gordon, Kane, and Staiger), or five years (Hanushek and Rivkin). Over a short period of time, this assertion became an urban myth among journalists and policy wonks in Washington, something that "everyone knew." This particular urban myth fed a fantasy that schools serving poor children might be able to construct a teaching corps made up exclusively of superstar teachers, the ones who produced large gains year after year. This is akin to saying that baseball teams should consist only of players who hit over .300 and pitchers who win at least twenty games every season; after all, such players exist, so why should not such teams exist? The fact that no such team exists should give pause to those who believe that almost every teacher in almost every school in almost every district might be a superstar if only school leaders could fire at will.”

25.

The Wave:

In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks, and Giants of the Ocean

by. Susan Casey

A look at the truly gigantic waves that inhabit our oceans through the eyes of the people who study them, the people who experience them, and the people who ride them.

        This book has so many of the elements that I love in a good nonfiction book: It's about a subject I didn't know anything about, it's full of interesting information, and it's exciting to read. I don't really know what to say about it. There are huge, just absolutely HUGE, waves going on out there. And where you find waves of that size...well, let's say that things are never boring when there's a giant wave around.

          “The earthquake's impact on Alaska reads like a list of special effects for a high-budget disaster movie: gaping cracks opened in the ground releasing clouds of sulfurous gas; areas of land suddenly liquefied. Anchorage was all but destroyed that night; an entire suburb slid into the sea. The port city of Valdez was assailed by fifty-foot waves and ended up partly underwater, and in Whittier, population seventy, a pair of forty-footers killed thirteen. At Seward, an oil-storage depot exploded into a fireball, and giant waves picked up an oil tanker and deposited it on land. The waves, now filled with flaming debris, went on to hit the Texaco oil installation, and it too exploded. Fiery forty-foot walls of water wiped out Seward's waterfront, its power plant, and most of its houses. These fire-waves then struck the railyard, where they swept a 120-ton locomotive with an eighty-boxcar train more than three hundred feet inland. The boxcars, also filled with oil, burst like popcorn. Meanwhile the fishing town of Kodiak lost its entire hundred-boat fleet.

          The waves sped south toward Canada, smacking Vancouver Island, and continued on to Washington and Oregon. In all of these places they caused destruction and death, but on a mercifully smaller scale. Californians had received warnings that the tsunami was headed their way, but no one was overly concerned. The waves seemed to be fading.

          Until they arrived at Crescent City.

          High tide had risen and it was close to midnight when the Three Sisters showed up, a trio of waves surging south under a starry, full-moon sky. These first three were ocean Valkyries; they leveled the lower part of Crescent City, scouring two miles inland. Power lines collapsed, fire erupted, people were pinned against ceilings in flooded buildings. Twenty-nine blocks were left underwater, 172 businesses and 91 homes erased. Ten died. But it was the fourth wave that delivered the knockout punch, winding up by draining the harbor, and then rushing back at the land, coming in as a malignant black wall studded with logs, metal, plastic, glass, cars, trucks, home appliances, junk, treasures, bodies.

          It was a very bad night. Entire buildings were knocked off their foundations and dragged away. More things exploded. A house ended up on Highway 101. And water, everywhere there was water, swirling like the contents of a demonic blender. The world as everyone in Crescent City knew it had turned darkly aquatic.”

26.

A Geography of Time:

The Temporal Misadventures of a Social Psychologist,

or How Every Culture Keeps Time a Little Bit Differently

by. Robert Levine

A look at the relativity of time throughout different cultures and how changing your sense of time changes your perspective on the world.

        Time is such a fascinating subject. Partially because it seems so mundane. And that is exactly what makes this books so interesting. It points out all these ideas that you, or at least I, have never stopped to consider. How time has influenced the ways people live their lives, how our perceptions of time vary so wildly, how much frustration is created when your sense of time conflicts with someone else's.

        So you know what to expect, the book is written in a different style than a lot of sciencey nonfiction books. It's done in much more of a bathroom reader fashion, where it's ideas are generally segmented into little sections that make it very easy to read a bit and then put it down. I kind of like how easy it is to slip in and out of it, but I kind of don't like how that also means it's hard to really get immersed in the material. But, as long as you know what to expect I don't think you'll have a problem.

          “Before the invention of the first mechanical clocks, the idea of coordinating people's activities was nearly impossible. Any appointments that had to be made usually took place at dawn. It is no coincidence that, historically, so many important events occurred at sunrise—duels, battles, meetings.”

27.

The Gospel of Food:

Everything You Think You Know About Food is Wrong

by. Barry Glassner

A debunking of the ideas surrounding food.

        I read this book because Barry Glassner recently became the president of my alma mater, Lewis & Clark College. I wasn't expecting much, but it ended up being a great book. You're always hearing theories about food being thrown around as fact. Sometimes you hear the same things theories in documentary after documentary, and article after article, all reiterating the same ideas about food. This books debunks what we think we know about food. It takes a look at what the facts are saying,what people are saying, and at the discrepancies in between.

        My only criticism of the book is that Glassner walks a thin edge between scientific and anecdotal. If a book is straight up science it can get a little dry, but if it's straight up anecdotes then it loses some credibility. I feel as though in some chapters he slips a little too far into the anecdotal style and thus those parts feel a little too experience based. But overall I think he does a good job of straddling the line.

        ...Okay, I lied. I actually have two criticisms. The other one is that its cover design is just awful. I could go on about the many reasons I don't care for it, but that's neither here nor there.

          “No one would seriously argue ice cream as a health food, though in fact that advice is no less fallacious than its opposite, a faulty logic that assumes if a steady diet of something is harmful, going without it must be healthful. That wrongheaded reasoning is rampant. For one of his studies, Paul Rozin presented the following scenario to a diverse sample of Americans: "Assume you are alone on a desert island for one year and you can have water and one other food. Pick the food that you think would be best for your health." Seven choices were offered: corn, alfalfa sprouts, hot dogs, spinach, peaches, bananas, and milk chocolate.

          Fewer than one in ten people chose hot dogs or milk chocolate, the two foods on the list that come closest to providing a complete diet because of the fats and other nutrients they contain.

          In response to another set of questions, half of Rozin's respondents said that even very small amounts of salt, cholesterol, and fat are unhealthy. More than one in four believed that a diet totally free of those substances is healthiest, when in reality, of course, they are crucial nutrients for human health. Without them, we could not survive.

          Most nutrition writers are not likely to correct those misconceptions. Their goal is not to elucidate the virtues of hot dogs, fats, and seasonings, but rather, as Emily Green put it, "to keep nasty food out of people's mouths." Nor is there much incentive for other journalists to challenge the conventional wisdom. Those who do typically find themselves accused off being an enemy of public health.”

28.

Decoded

by. Jay-Z

Rapper Jay-Z writes about his life, his music, and in doing so offers a perspective off a world many don't understand.

        This book is just impressive. It's definitely one of the best things I've read this year, if only because it was able to dispel some of my ignorance about some things. Through his words you really can start to understand rap and the culture generally associated with it. It's easy to think that rap often glorifies violence and drugs and all that, but in the same sense it's also easy to think ill about people you don't know. Jay-Z is smart. He is able to eloquently explain things you thought you understood, but actually don't understand. He points out that people who grew up in nice neighborhoods don't understand the culture of areas like where he grew up. Thus they aren't able to follow the references and wordplay of rappers from such a culture. And even when someone can't understand most of a song their ears may still manage to catch some profanity or maybe a few lines about drugs and violence and they'll think they understand what the song was about. Jay-Z not only explains these ideas, but throughout the book he has pieces of his lyrics that he's annotated. He explains what the songs are about and what the references mean. I think everyone should read this book if only to help them understand a part of America that perhaps they just don't know enough about.

        If that wasn't enough the book just looks amazing. Whoever designed it and did the layouts did a fantastic job.


          “But great MCing is not just about filling in the meter of the song with rhythm and melody. The other ways that poets make words work is by giving them layers of meaning, so you can use them to get at complicated truths in a way that straightforward storytelling fails to do. The words you use can be read a dozen different ways. They can be funny and serious. They can be symbolic and literal. They can be nakedly obvious and subliminally effective at the same time. The art of rap is deceptive. It seems so straightforward and personal and real that people read it completely literally, as raw testimony or autobiography. And sometimes the words we use, nigga, bitch, motherfucker, and the violence of the images overwhelms some listeners. It's all white noise to them till they hear a bitch or a nigga and then they run off yelling "See!" and feel vindicated in their narrow conception of what music is about. But that would be like listening to Maya Angelou and ignoring everything until you heard her drop a line about drinking or sleeping with someone's husband and then dismissing her as an alcoholic adulterer.”

29.

A Fictional History of the United States With Huge Chunks Missing

edited by. T Cooper & Adam Mansbach

A collection of short stories surrounding historical events in the United States.

        I didn't like this book. Possibly because it told me it was going to be a different kind of book than it was. I even went as far as to write down quotes from it's introduction and elsewhere so I could point out all the little ways in which it completely misrepresented itself. But I don't want to bother with it.

        It claims it's some great work that takes a look at the unrepresented parts history through the lens of fiction. However, it is just a collection of random short stories. Sure they take place during certain historical events...but couldn't that be said of any story?

        Anyways, here's an excerpt from the first story. It is the best one and the one that exemplifies what I thought the rest would be like.

          “Long before anyone reached the eastern shores of America, this story goes, the continent was visited from the other side, by Japanese fishermen who were blown across the Pacific by a storm. They reached the Aleutian Islands, which were just like the country they had left, but rockier and more desolate, and infested with a small black biting fly unknown in Japan. Driven almost mad by these insects, the Japanese fishermen sailed down the coast as far as California, which looked just like China, only it was more arid and there were no temples. For reasons that this story does not supply, the fishermen wandered inland as far as New Mexico, where they lived for many years. They taught the natives to make pots, and to paint them with decorative patterns; they taught them the Japanese words for blue and yellow, and showed them how to burn their dead. There was so much they wanted to teach the natives! But most of their knowledge was useless in this desert country: no point in showing the natives how to fish, or how to build boats. As for the rest—the construction of huts, or the weaving of tatami mats—the natives already had their own way of doing things. Discouraged, the Japanese fishermen traveled overland back to California, where they found their boats half buried in sea grass. They cut themselves free and set out to sea; almost at once they were carried back to Japan by a storm blowing in the opposite direction. To this day, in parts of New Mexico, you can find fragments of pottery with designs on them that could be Japanese; also, Japanese and Zuni share the words ha and mo. which mean leaf and spherical object, respectively.”

30.*

Overqualified

by. Joey Comeau

A series of unusual cover letters that tell a story about the man behind them.

        Everything Joey Comeau does is amazing, but everything he does is amazing in a different way. As some of you may recall he is the writer for one of my absolute favorite webcomics A Softer World. It is slightly hard to describe, but his greatest ability is how he is able to present ideas in such a manner that changes how you view and think about them.

        This is a favorite book of mine. I won't even bother describing it because you can't get a better description than the one on the back of the book.

“Cover letters are all the same. They're useless. You write the same lies over and over again, listing the store-bought parts of yourself that you respect the least. God knows how they tell anyone apart, but this is how it's done.

And then one day a car comes out of nowhere, and suddenly everything changes and you don't know if he'll ever wake up. You get out of bed in the morning, and when you sit down to write another paint-by-numbers cover letter, something entirely different comes out.

You start threatening instead of begging. You tell impolite jokes. You talk about your childhood and your sexual fantasies. You sign your real name and you put yourself honestly into letter after letter and there is no way you are ever going to get this job. Not with a letter like this.

And you send it anyway.”

        It's a book that takes the form of a collection of cover letters. When they're read separately they're hilarious/delightful/thought provoking entities.

          “Dear Irving Oil, I am writing to apply for a job with your company, and I have included my resume for your review. You will find that every reference and each previous job will check out as valid, but I think that it's important to be honest: my assigned mission is to take you down, from the inside.”

        But they're all written by the same character and as you read through them you start to learn more about him.

          “I am teaching her to pick locks. She's a little bewildered by all this attention, I think. I am living in the guest room. I bought some locks so we can practice. Picking locks is surprisingly easy. She learns quick, too, my grandmother. She's so sharp.

          This morning she asked me, what next? I told her everything is next. We'll learn to pick pockets next, to hack computers and telephone networks, to disarm someone quickly and efficiently, to seduce anyone and steal their keycards while they sleep, to live on submarines.

          We'll wake up every day and we'll tell ourselves, 'Live for today, you retarded little shit. The end is near.'”

Timecards 02/03/11-05/16/11

At the theater where I work we have timecards and thus twice a month we have to fill out a new one. I'm not exactly sure when I started, but for quite a while I've been doing my best to write my name in a different sort of stylized manner on each card. Sadly only recently did I think to start taking pictures of them to catalog them. Some of them were taken from my phone. Some of them were taken with my camera and yet are still crappy pictures. But nevertheless here they are.

[My coworker Francisco asked if he could do a guest signature on a timecard. Since that meant less work for me I gladly accepted his offer. Afterwards I decided to make a card for him, because that only seemed fair.]

Book List 2011: Part 2

Yep, it's another book list! Here's the next set of books I've read this year. Even though 33% of this set were done by the same author, I think you'll still appreciate the wide swath of genres represented. We've got horror, romance, comedy, history, fantasy, and even a western. Maybe one of them will even pique your interests?

* = reread

11.

Heart-Shaped Box

by. Joe Hill

A former rock star buys a ghost, but gets more than he bargained for when his past comes back to haunt him.

This book surprised me. I wasn't expecting anything more than a simple offbeat ghost story and, to be fair, in the beginning that's what it was. Yet, if you give it a little while it creates something really great. When it comes to ghost stories we've seen it all and yet this is something new. At its surface this is a story about a man who's running from a ghost and trying to destroy it before it destroys him, but if you look a little deeper its also the story about a man who's on the run from his past.

      “He climbed the stairs and started back down the hall to the bedroom. His gaze drifted to an old man, sitting in an antique Shaker chair against the wall. As soon as Jude saw him, his pulse lunged in alarm, and he looked away, fixed his gaze on his bedroom door, so he could only see the old man from the edge of his vision. In the moments that followed, Jude felt it was a matter of life and death not to make eye contact with the old man, to give no sign that he saw him. He did no see him, Jude told himself. There was no one there.”

12.*

Throne of Jade

by. Naomi Novak

In order to stay together Laurence and Temeraire are forced into going on a diplomatic mission to China. However, no matter where they go it seems forces are working to get Laurence out of the picture.

This is the sequel to His Majesty's Dragon and it's kind of a strange book in that it's mostly middle. The vast majority of the book is them at sea. It's like an Indiana Jones film if most of the movie was Indy on a plane instead of just using that quick red-line-tracing-over-a-map shot. If the book wasn't part of a series I'd say this was a significant flaw, but in context I liked it. After all the thing I enjoy about the Temeraire books is the world that's been created; the plot is almost secondary. So even though plot-wise nothing much happens in the book, I still thought it was a lot of fun.

      “The Allegiance rocked abruptly over to one side, and Laurence was thrown against the railing; on the far side of the ship, a great jet of water fountained up and came splashing down upon the deck, and a monstrous draconic head lifted up above the railing: enormous, luridly orange eyes set behind a rounded snout, with ridges of webbing tangled with long trailers of black seaweed. An arm was still dangling from the creature's mouth, limply; it opened its maw and threw its head back with a jerk, swallowing the rest: its teeth were washed bright red with blood.

      Riley called for the starboard broadside, and on deck Purbeck was drawing three of the gun-crews together around one of the carronades: he meant to point it at the creature directly. They were casting loose its tackles, the strongest men blocking the wheels; all sweating and utterly silent but for low grunting, working as fast as they could, greenish-pale; the forty-two-pounder could not be easily handled.

      "Fire, fire, you fucking yellow-arsed millers!" Macready yelling hoarsely in the tops, already reloading his own gun. The other Marines belatedly set off a ragged volley, but the bullets did not penetrate; the serpentine neck was clad in thickly overlapping scales, blue and silver-gilt. The sea-serpent made a low croaking noise and lunged at the deck, striking two men flat and seizing another in its mouth; Doyle's shrieks could be heard even from within, his legs kicking frantically.”

13.

True Grit

by. Charles Portis

A young girl hires a grizzled Marshall to help her get revenge on the man who murdered her father.

Did I read this solely because I saw the 2010 Coen brother's movie? Yes. Yes I did. I loved that movie, so when I was told that a lot of the great dialogue in it was directly from the book I had to check it out. However, the movie is better. I hope you know me well enough to know what it means for me to be saying that as I do not say such things lightly. The story is great, the dialogue is great, the characters are great, but the delivery is weak. For instance the author has a ridiculously annoying habit of putting the "I said"s at the beginning of a sentence instead of at the end. If it wasn't for the movie, I probably would have had a lot of praise for the book; it's a very clever story with some very witty dialogue. However, the movie fixed all the things I had a problem with and even made some improvements beyond that. Thus when I read the book its flaws seemed all the more apparent to me.


      “"I have slept out at night. Papa took me and Little Frank coon hunting last summer on the Petit Jean."

      "Coon hunting?"

      "We were out in the woods all night. We sat around a big fire and Yarnell told ghost stories. We had a good time."

      "Blast coon hunting! This ain't no coon hunt, it don't come in forty miles of being a coon hunt!"

      "It is the same idea as a coon hunt. You are just trying to make your work sound harder than it is."

      "Forget coon hunting. I am telling you that where I am going is no place for a shirttail kid."

      "That is what they said about coon hunting. Also Fort Smith. Yet here I am."

      "The first night out you will be taking on and crying for your mama."

      I said, "I have left off crying, and giggling as well. Now make up your mind. I don't care anything for all this talk. You told me what your price for the job was and I have come up with it. Here is the money. I aim to get Tom Chaney and if you are not game I will find someone who is game. All I have heard out of you so far is talk. I know you can drink whiskey and I have seen you shoot a gray rat. All the rest has been talk. They told me you had grit and that is why I came to you. I am not paying for talk. I can get all the talk I need and more at the Monarch boardinghouse."”

14.

The Big Over Easy

by. Jasper Fforde

It appears that Humpty Dumpty has been murdered and it's up to Jack Spratt and the Nursery Crime Division to solve the case.

I don't know what else to say about this book other than that it's a lot of fun. It does something I love which is to take something silly and take it seriously. Terry Pratchett has said that Discworld was the result of him taking a serious look at fantasy. In the same sense Fforde has taken a serious look at Nursery Rhymes. Humpty Dumpty has fallen of a wall and no one is going to put him back together: he's dead. The mystery however? Well, that's what's really left to try and piece together. I'll warn you that there are a lot of references being thrown about in this book: references to nursery rhymes, fairy tales, and literature. The writing is clever enough that you can definitely enjoy it without knowing all the references, but if you're familiar with the things being referenced the book is all the more enjoyable.


      “The yard was shaped as an oblong, fifteen feet wide and about thirty feet long, surrounded by a high brick wall with crumbling mortar. Most of the yard was filled with junk—broken bicycles, old furniture, a mattress or two. But at one end, where the dustbins were spilling their rubbish onto the ground, large pieces of eggshell told of a recent and violent death. Jack knew who the victim was immediately and had suspected for a number of years that something like this might happen. Humpty Dumpty. The fall guy. If this wasn't under the jurisdiction of the Nursery Crime Division, Jack didn't know what was. Mrs. Singh, the pathologist, was kneeling next to the shattered remains dictating notes into a tape recorder. She waved a greeting at him as he walked in but did not stop what she was doing. She indicated to a photographer areas of particular interest to her, the flash going off occasionally and looking inordinately bright in the dull closeness of the yard.

      Briggs had been sitting on a low wall talking to a plainclothes policewoman, but as Jack entered, he rose and waved a hand in the direction of the corpse.

      "It looks like he died from injuries sustained falling from a wall,"Briggs said. "Could be accident, suicide, who knows? He was discovered dead at 0722 this morning."

      Jack looked up at the wall. It was a good eight feet high. A sturdy ladder stood propped up against it.

      "Our ladder?"

      "His."

      "Anything else I need to know?"

      "A couple of points. Firstly, you're not exactly 'Mr. Popular' with the seventh floor at present. There are people up there who think that spending a quarter of a million pounds on a failed murder conviction fro three pigs is not value for money—especially when there is zero chance of getting it into Amazing Crime Stories."

      "I didn't think justice was meant to have a price tag, sir."

      "Clearly. But it's a public-perception thing, Spratt. Piglets are cute; wolves aren't. You might as well try and charge the farmer's wife with cruelty when she cut off the mice's tails with a carving knife."

      "I did."

      "And?"

      "Insufficient evidence."”

15.

Jane Eyre

by. Charlotte Bronte

An austere woman with a troubled past takes a job as a governess for an unusual man. There is something about him she loves, but there is something he's not telling her, and there are forces that wish to keep them apart and there's something in the house that's out to get them.

I really do make an attempt to just tell you about the books and not really review them (I usually fail, but I do try). I'm sorry to any Jane Eyre fans out there, but I don't get the appeal of this book. Halfway through I wanted to quit, but I continued reading solely because I heard that one of the characters gets seriously maimed and I wanted to be there when it happened. I was reading the book because I wanted the main characters to suffer like I had suffered.

I was led to believe that it was some classic romance on par with Pride and Prejudice, but isn't. Charlotte Bronte isn't even close to being in the same league as Jane Austen. I don't want to spoil that story, but suffice it to say the "romance" in this book is perhaps the most screwed up thing I've ever heard off. However, as dark mystery? Well, as a dark mystery this book still sucks. Which is amazing because look at some of the things that are in this book: a girl whose parents die and is sent to live with abusive relatives, a school so strict and disciplinary that student's are dropping dead, a mysterious house full of secrets, attempted murder, fires, stabbing, insanity, and lies! That sounds awesome! Right? How can you screw that story up? HOW CAN YOU SCREW THAT UP!?

I'll tell you how, by teasing your audience with these things while simultaneously ignoring them, mentioning them only in passing. Example: In the story someone lights fire to a man's bad while he sleeps in an attempt to burn him alive. Jane Eyre saves him, but he then basically tells her not to worry about it and so...she does! She doesn't worry about the fact that her "love" is hiding some major shit and that someone in the house just tried to BURN HIM ALIVE! Not caring if your lover is burned alive, that's what I call love right there.


      “"Why, Jane, what would you have? I fear you will compel me to go through a private marriage ceremony, besides that performed at the altar. You will stipulate, I see, for peculiar conditions."

      "I only want an easy mind, sir; not crushed by crowded obligations. Do you remember what you said of Céline Varens?—of the diamonds, the cashmeres you gave her? I will not be your English Céline Varens. I shall continue to act as Adéle's governess; by that I shall earn my board and lodging, and thirty pounds a year besides. I'll furnish my own wardrobe out of that money, and you shall give me nothing, but————"

      "Well, but what?"

      "Your regard; and if I give you mine in return, that debt will be quit."

      "Well, for cool native impudence, and pure innate pride, you haven't your equal," said he. We were now approaching Thornfield. "Will it please you to dine with me to-day?" he asked, as we re-entered the gates.

      "No, thank you, sir."

      "And what for 'no, thank you'? if I may inquire."

      "I never have dined with you, sir: and I see no reason why I should now: till———"

      "Till what? You delight in half-phrases."

      "Till I can't help it."”

16.

The Daughter of Time

by. Josephine Tey

A detective is stuck in the hospital after injuring his leg. To pass the time he finds a mystery to distract him. However, this mystery happened 200 years ago when Richard III murdered his nephews...or did he?

I'm not sure how to describe this book. It is a very interesting and well told mystery about a very confusing subject. It's all about the British monarchy and British history in general so I spent a lot of parts not really understanding who was who and what exactly had gone down. But I read the entire book despite that...so that's gotta tell you something. If you aren't completely ignorant of European history (like I am) then you probably won't have any problems. If you're like me than maybe you'll like the interesting premise, the mystery, and the humor.

      “"Grant lay on his high white cot and stared at the ceiling. Stared at it with loathing. He knew by heart every last minute crack on its nice clean service. He had made maps of the ceiling and gone exploring on them; rivers, islands, and continents. He had made guessing games of it and discovered hidden objects; faces, birds, and fishes. He had made mathematical calculations of it and rediscovered his childhood; theorems, angles, and triangles. There was practically nothing else he could do but look at it. He hated the sight of it.

      He had suggested to The Midget that she might turn his bed around a little so that he could have a new patch of ceiling to explore. But it seemed that that would spoil the symmetry of the room, and in hospitals symmetry ranked just a short head behind cleanliness and a whole length in front of Godliness. Anything out of the parallel was hospital profanity. Why didn't he read? she asked. Why didn't he go on reading some of those expensive brand-new novels that his friends kept on bringing him?

      "There are far too many people born into the world, and far too many words written. Millions and millions of them pouring from the presses every minute. It's a horrible thought."

      "You sound constipated," said The Midget.”

17.

A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court

by. Mark Twain

The story of modernity meeting history. The story of medieval chivalry meeting American ingenuity. The story of a Connecticut Yankee finding himself in the court of King Arthur.

If this book hadn't been recommended to me I would never have touched it. The [blank] in King Arthur's court plot line has been responsible for some of the dumbest movies around. A Kid in King Arthur's Court, Black Knight, A Knight in Camelot, "A Decepticon Raider in King Arthur's Court". But apparently this is where it all came from. And it was written by Mark Twain! Who'd have thunk it? Despite the horrors it has birthed, it is actually a very fun book. I was laughing out loud at a couple of parts. Taking ideas we take for granted and putting them in a setting where they're unheard of is pretty hilarious. My only problem with the story was that the main character is way too smart. Here is a short list of some of his skills: he can mix together explosives, he can build a gun, he can synthesize his own form of plastic, he can organize a military, he can organize a school, he can build a working telephone, and he can build an electrical generator. I mean holy shit. A telephone? From medieval components? Bullshit.
Bull.
Shit.

      “"Your name please?"

      "I hight the Demoiselle Alisande la Carteloise, an it please you."

      "Do you know anybody here who can identify you?"

      "That were not likely, fair lord, I being come hither now for the first time."

      "Have you brought any letters—any documents—any proofs that you are trustworthy and truthful?"

      "Of a surety, no; and wherefore should I? Have I not a tongue, and cannot I say all that myself?"

      "But your saying it, you know, and somebody else's saying it, is different."

      "Different? How might that be? I fear me I do not understand."

      "Don't understand? Land of—why, you see—you see—why, great Scott, can't you understand the difference between your—why do you look so innocent and idiotic!"

      "I? In truth I know not, but an it were the will of God."”

18.

The Eyre Affair

by. Jasper Fforde

It's up to Literary Detective Thursday Next to stop the world's greatest criminal when he takes Jane Eyre hostage.

I don't know what to say about this. I don't think it was for me, but I do appreciate a lot of it. It creates a world that intimately loves literature, and that world is actually very intriguing. A world where counterfetting books is a big business, where productions of Richard III can have the same audience interaction as Rocky Horror, and where machines will deliver lines from shakespere for a quarter.

      “ "What will you do after this?" asked Rochester, pointing out a rabbit to Pilot, who barked and ran off.

      "Back to SpecOps work, I guess," I replied. "What about you?"

      Rochester looked at me broodingly, his eyebrows furrowed and a look of anger rising across his features.

      "There is nothing for me after Jane leaves with that slimy and pathetic excuse for a vertebrate, St. John Rivers."

      "So what will you do?"

      "Do? I won't do anything. Existence pretty much ceases for me about then."

      "Death?"

      "Not as such," replied Rochester, choosing his words carefully. "Where you come from you are born, you live and then you die. Am I correct?"

      "More or less."

      "A pretty poor way of living, I should imagine!" laughed Rochester. "And you rely upon that inward eye we call a memory to sustain yourself in times of depression, I suppose?"

      "Most of the time," I replied, "although memory is but one hundredth of the strength of currently felt emotions."

      "I concur. Here, I neither am born, nor die. I come into being at the age of thirty-eight and wink out again soon after, having fallen in love for the first time in my life and then lost the object of my adoration, my being!..."

      He stopped and picked up the stick Pilot had considerately brought him in place of the rabbit he couldn't catch.

      "You see, I can move myself to anywhere in the book I wish at a moment's notice and back again at will; the greatest parts of my life lie between the time I profess my true love to that fine, impish girl and the moment the lawyer and the fool Mason turn up to spoil my wedding and revel the madwoman in the attic. Those are the weeks to which I return most often, but I got to the bad times too——for without a yardstick sometimes the high points can be taken for granted. Sometimes I muse that I might have John stop them at the church gate and stall them until the wedding is over, but it is against the way of things."”

19.

The Fourth Bear

by. Jasper Fforde

The notorious killer the Gingerbreadman is on the loose. The Nursery Crime Division isn't allowed anywhere near the case, but luckily their other case, the case of Goldilock's murder, seems to be be connected somehow. Unluckily Jack Spratt is suspended until he can prove that he isn't crazy.

Overall, I would say this sequel to The Big Overeasy isn't as good as the original. The references aren't as clever and the chapter introductions are significantly weaker. That being said, it is still a lot of fun. It's still the same great characters and great dialogue that made the first book so enjoyable. Plus the gingerbreadman makes for a much more interesting threat than there was present in the first book. Basically, if you're gonna take a look at this series, start with the first one. If you liked that one then you'll probably like this one as well.

      “ "The Gingerbreadman is not an NCD investigation, Sergeant. You know that."

      "It was a coincidence, sir," she responded confidently. "Do you think I would be crazy enough to tackle him on my own?"

      "Perhaps not you," said Briggs, glancing at Jack. Briggs thought for a moment and narrowed his eyes. "This isn't a plot device number twenty-seven, is it?" he asked suspiciously.

      "The one where my partner gets killed in a drug bust gone wrong and I throw in my badge and go rogue?" replied Jack innocently. "I don't think so, sir."

      "No, not that one," countered Briggs in a state of some confusion. "The one where you try and find the Gingerbreadman on the sly and make Copperfield and me look like idiots."

      "That would be a twenty-nine, wouldn't it?" put in Mary, who wasn't going to miss out on the fun.

      "No, no," said Jack, "Briggs means a twenty-six. A twenty-nine is where the bad guy turns out quite inexplicably to be the immediate supervisor."

      "A twenty-six,"said Briggs, "yes, that's the one."

      "What about it?"

      "You're not doing that one are you?"

      "No, sir," replied Jack. "I'm suspended awaiting a psychological appraisal, and I don't know what plot device that is."

      "Got to be well over a hundred," suggested Mary helpfully. ”

20.

A Closer Shave:

Man's Daily Search For Perfection

by. Wallace Pinfold

An assortment of historical facts, tidbits, and advice about shaving.

I've become very curious about how exactly women have ended up in the shaving game. I keep hearing competing things about the history of women's shaving. I tried to find some book to illuminate my confusion, however, it seems that a book about shaving and women does not exist. In fact, there are hardly any books about the history of shaving at all and they are pretty much entirely male centric. This book is certainly a strange and slightly illiminating little look at shaving, but it is definitely male focused. However, it does provide some interesting information though. For instance we have more hairs than chimpanzees. It just doesn't seem that way because their hairs are much coarser. Crazy!

      “We consider our decision to shave or not to shave an individual decision. In fact, we're only part right. The decision to shave or let one's beard grow carries a social message and the message changes over time.”