Long, meandering, and not much to this post.

I have one of those sick little headaches. You know the ones that live in your temples, that don’t rant and rage. They sulk. The type that just lingers, all sullen, dull, and stubborn. If I go to bed with it, I’ll wake up with it. I’ll take a couple of advil before bed, and I hate that. I don’t like headache pills. Most times, I would rather suffer, BUT, not with one of the “I’ll stay the night” ones. I’m not a masochist.

My boss had surgery yesterday, on his knee. A torn meniscus, or some such. Anyway, I got to carry a fruit bouquet up to him, that we chipped in money at work to get him. A coworker went way out of her way to pick it out. Thats a great example of the difference between men and women. A man would walk into a place, and see basket + fruit. “Aha! Thats what I was told to get, I’m done!”. Not her. Anyway, the boss is fine. He looked a bit peaked, and was obviously in some pain. Understandable, since he wasn’t much past 24 hours since the surgery.

I got to meet his Great Dane, Dakota, for the first time. She is a bit over a hundred pounds, which is small for a Great Dane. She is a very well behaved house dog though.

Anyway, I didn’t go back to work. Lets see, three hours off, when I put in 9.5 hours on Sunday? And when that STILL leaves me almost 14 hours up on what works “owes” me, in comp time? Well, yeah, I will take that.

So, I went by a little independent bookstore in Woodstock. Normally, I hate little bookstores. I don’t understand how a place that has fewer books than I do can stay in business, for one. I also tend to hate the staff. They always attempt to strike up a conversation, or some such nonsense. I want to say “I’m a customer, all I want to do is see if a book wants to go home with me. Thats it. You aren’t a book, lets not chat, okay?”

I’m not a people person.

But this bookstore (Foxtales) was different. Or, the staff was anyway. She didn’t speak beyond the greeting when I came in the door. No offer to help me find anything, or any other junk. I like that. Now if only the store had more books, it might actually be worth something. I did pick up a nice looking copy of Macbeth, which I’ve never read.

If that headache hadn’t been sulking around, making me miserable, I would have sat in the nearby park and read for a bit. As it was, nope, not happening. Now to go home (its much later. I am writing this in a restaurant.) I’ll snuffle some macaw feathers, do beak kisses with Kermit, and give Kiwi a long deep head scratch. Then mock wrestle Max for a couple, and collapse into bed well doped up.

Its amazing how one thing leads to another, over the years.

Back when I was a teenager, was a member of the Science Fiction book club. I picked out a book with a nice looking dustjacket. It was a man with a sword, being menaced by two tiger sized siamese cats. This was the first few books of the Chronicles of Amber, by Roger Zelazny. If I have to identify the Chronicles of Amber for you, then you aren’t a geek.

I’ve liked Zelazny ever since.

A few months back, I learned that a massive compendium of Zelazny’s work was being published. Four of the six volumes were already out. I bought them, and spent several weeks reading them. I had never known he was a poet. So, while hanging out in my living room one evening, I read one of the poems out loud. The birds instantly took notice. Backs straightened and bird eyes swiveled around and focused on me.

Since then, I’ve made a habit of reading poetry to them. I often skip a day, but I try to read a poem a day to them. They still take note. Mind, I suspect that they would take note if I was reading the phone book. But since poetry sounds different, I could be wrong. The phone book is not interesting reading, so I don’t plan on testing this theory. Besides, I don’t actually have any phone books. The Internet and GPS have killed off any need I have for them.

Anyway, you can’t read poetry aloud for long without developing an interest in it. So I’ve been doing some casual poetry reading, and study, for the past few months.

The road to it is interesting though. A nice illustration on a book jacket catches a boys eye. That leads to a life long love of an author. The middle aged man that the boy grew into (physically anyway), looks into this favored author a bit more, and discovers he was a poet. Against the odds, this ties in with his love of parrots, because the parrots love poetry. (Or love the man reading aloud to them – close to the same, because poetry is meant to be read aloud, and prose is not). And that leads to the man appreciating poetry more. All because of a cheap dust jacket illustration on a cheap copy of a fantasy book. That illustration had an impact over twenty years later.

The world is a richer one than we often think.

To be clear, I’m a strong supporter of gun rights, and I do keep one (well, three, actually) in the house. But, I think we can all empathize with this poem.

Another Reason I Don’t Keep a Gun in the House by Billy Collins
(From Sailing alone around the room).

The neighbors’ dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.

The neighbors’ dog will not stop barking.
I close all the windows in the house
and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast
but I can still hear him muffled under the music,
barking, barking, barking,

and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra,
his head raised confidently as if Beethoven
had included a part for barking dog.

When the record finally ends he is still barking,
sitting there in the oboe section barking,
his eyes fixed on the conductor who is
entreating him with his baton

while the other musicians listen in respectful
silence to the famous barking dog solo,
that endless coda that first established
Beethoven as an innovative genius.

I’m trying to find the time to read the book “On liberty” by Mills. While it was written in 1869, I think, its really readable, and one of the most important works in western history. Each time I flip to a random page, I read something profound. You can find numerous free copies on the Internet (its long out of copyright).

Good stuff – now to make the time to read it cover to cover.

Stumbling across the start of the six volume set of the Collected stories of Roger Zelazny started me to thinking about two of my favorite works of his. Jack of Shadows, and Lords of Light.

“For six days he had offered many kilowatts of prayer, but the static kept him from being heard On High.”

So I started looking for my copies of the books. And, not finding them. Good books – defined here as simply any book that you enjoy – move. They don’t stay in one spot. My paperbacks have one specific spot that they are suppose to call home. Its down by the basement door. There is a long ledge there, which is perfectly sized for keeping paperbacks. This is in the U shaped area in the stairwell right before you reach the door to the basement. Its still in the main house. The house was designed with that area there, and that area was designed for paperbacks.

But the books don’t stay there, for the most. I go past them at least twice per day, seven days a week for the most part. Once in the morning, bleary eyed, to put the dogs in the basement. Once again in the evening, somewhat tired, to take the dogs out of the basement. (And usually once again in the evenings, putting the dogs back down there for a few minutes so that they can take care of any prebedtime business out in the sideyard, which connects to my basement). Its not uncommon for a book to latch on to me during these trips, and ride me back up like a giant cockleburr.

Its mostly specific passages that snag out little thorns, and which get read far more than the entire book. Normally they aren’t anything particularly important or engaging to most. Those little barbs are specific to me. I like reliving how Jack of Shadows (who is, overall, an Ass) overcomes the Rock that Eats. Thats a barb.

What it means though, is that books move from where they are put. A bit part of cleaning up for me is putting these errant books back where they belong. And, it explains why I can’t find my copies of those two books tonight, when I went looking for them.

The Lovely Bones is a decent read. When I say they were making a movie though, I just rolled my eyes. I don’t think its filmable at all. Now that reviews of the movie are coming around, it looks like I was right.

Though, my question is, how in the world do you pronounce Saoirse? Saoirse Ronan is the young (15 years old) Irish (bet you couldn’t guess that, right?) actress who plays the lead character in the movie. By all accounts, she is pretty darn good. I have no idea, having never seen her in anything. (And she isn’t in any movies I particularly want to see). Still I’m curious as hell as to how her name is pronounced.

If it weren’t for the luminous performance of Saoirse Ronan (who, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, is going to be a huge star), this would be the kind of movie you’d give up on halfway through.

Thats from Dana Stevens review above. Hopefully its true, though remember Claire Danes? Another big (semi) child actress? She’s pretty much vanished from the big screen. Still, hopefully Dana’s prediction comes true. We need more good actresses.

I picked up the novel Sharp Teeth from the library today. Its a werewolf novel in blank prose – which I normally loathe most blank prose. However, I decided to take a peek at the sample pages on Amazon. That peek convinced me to give it a chance. And, just reading a page in the parking lot at work, before coming back in from lunch… well, the novel has promise. Here is hoping it lives up to it!

Okay, one of my favorite webcomics is El Goonish Shive. Fair warning – it is very, very slow paced (unfolding over YEARS) and is a bit odd. Okay, its quite odd, by my standards of odd. Its not only odd, slow paced, but it has an erratic update schedule.

Its also very, very good. From the mundane mysteries (who is going to be what gender next comic) to the not so mundane (Chaos gave Nanase a spell to turn into a battle angel? WTF?).

Anyway, I knew at one time that two collections of it had been published, but had been unable to find them in print anywhere. They have, however, turned back up! Something about lost in the warehouse, or whatever. Who cares? I ordered them!

I had downloaded all the strips and imported them into Iphoto, where I’ve been slowly creating a pages document to print them out. Its a good comic, and one I can see myself rereading for years. So this puts me in a very good mood.

The only comic book I actually buy, is the trade paperbacks of PS 238.

PS238 is a comic book that follows the lives of both teachers and students at an elementary school for metaprodigy children, or children with super powers.

Its good stuff. However, I do mooch at various bookstores – gather up a big old stack of comics, and sit down to read them. Not good for a dying industry, but hey, cheaper for me.

Some random thoughts – I’m liking the Son of Hulk (Skaar) storyline, where Banner is coming into his own. Skaar’s kind of cheesy, but I’ve seen worse. Like the Old Man Logan series, set a few decades in the future, where villains have taken over the U.S, and divided it up between them. The ending to that little debacle is one of the worst comics I have ever read. The only good thing to come out of that steaming pile of crap is the best use of Mysterio that I’ve seen in a long while.

Green Lanterns been lame, what with all the colors of the spectrum at war. Though I do have to give kudo’s for the nice use of the lanterns oaths.

In brightest day, in blackest night,
No evil shall escape my sight
Let those who worship evil’s might,
Beware my power… Green Lantern’s light!

Blackest night is tying in with necromantic black rings, which are bringing the dead back to life. Cheesy as hell – how unoriginal can you get? Though having a dead martian manhunter return with a ring is kind of interesting, since he is merely a hair below Superman’s power level.

I’m quite enjoying the Avengers H.A.M.M.E.R stuff – where whats his name Green Goblin is in power. I didn’t expect to, actually, the guy is a nut, and will lose it sooner or later. The trip there however, is proving quite enjoyable. Big roles to play for Luke Cage (a favorite of mine) and Ares, who I didn’t expect to like. Its also good to see Cloak and Dagger back in action. Its been too long since that duo graced the pages of a comic.

Better stuff could be out – but worse stuff has been out.

A reminder to myself to pick up this book -The Invisible Heart: An Economic Romance

A love story that embraces the business and economic issues of the day? The Invisible Heart takes a provocative look at business, economics, and regulation through the eyes of Sam Gordon and Laura Silver, teachers at the exclusive Edwards School in Washington, D.C. Sam lives and breathes capitalism. He thinks that most government regulation is unnecessary or even harmful. He believes that success in business is a virtue. He believes that our humanity flourishes under economic freedom. Laura prefers Wordsworth to the Wall Street Journal. Where Sam sees victors, she sees victims. She wants the government to protect consumers and workers from the excesses of Sam’s beloved marketplace. While Sam and Laura argue about how to make the world a better place, a parallel story unfolds across town. Erica Baldwin, the crusading head of a government watchdog agency, tries to bring Charles Krauss, a ruthless CEO, to justice. How are these two dramas connected? Why is Sam under threat of dismissal? Will Erica Baldwin find the evidence she needs? Can Laura love a man with an Adam Smith poster on his wall? The answers in The Invisible Heart give the reader a richer appreciation for how business and the marketplace transform our lives.

I’m all for learning more – life is all about learning new things, and in particular, that means reading and studying things that are directly opposed to your ideology. Conformity is bad, and I’ve witnessed with a self described bleeding heart liberal friend, who has grown increasingly conformist over the last few years.

Over at Slate, Willing Davidson has this to say about how Hollywood butchers good books…

What makes the book so good and the movie so bad? And why is this divergence so unsurprising? The answer is simple, but it has complex implications: Novels are long, but movies are short.

…………

This is what the movies do to literature, typically: There’s so much plot to get in that there’s no time to tell the story.

Thats one thing that makes “Let the Right one in” so special – its a great movie from a mediocre book. Maybe its because the movie is swedish, and thus operates under a different set of assumptions than american movies. Or maybe its because the author of the book also did the screenplay. Or it could be the director….

Whatever the reason, Let the Right One In as a movie is far better than the book. Indeed, I would like to see a novelization of the movie from a good writer who hadn’t read the book.

I’m reading a fascinating Science Fiction novel – Learning the World, by Ken Macleod. I’m going to talk more about it later. This is just a note to myself, about a sentence I love.

I could hear voices, the sounds of early risers rising and early birds reaffirming their property rights, the hum of an engine and the hiss of tyres in the next street.

Its amazing how an interesting turn of phrase, about something mundane, can change how you view things.