Month: January 2013

by

The Only Stupid People Here are All of Us

yoga-road-rage2

Here’s the scenario: You’re driving along, dutifully alert to everything happening in and around your car, when suddenly a car in the lane next to you changes lanes without a turn signal and nearly hits you. God! What an idiot, am I right? Actually, I’m not right. This person is probably not an idiot, at least not any more than you. I hear people complaining about stupid drivers constantly and it always bothers me. Why? Because in all my years on this earth I have yet to drive with somebody who’s not a stupid driver, and I’m including myself on that list. We all drive either too fast or too slow, roll our wheels at stop signs, or just have mental lapses where we do insanely stupid and dangerous things. The difference is that when we do it we dismiss it as not a big deal because it’s not like we do that all the time. It was just a minor infraction on an otherwise solid record. But holy fuck balls, when it’s done to us we become absolutely sure we are dealing with a habitual shitty, inconsiderate driver.

Look, I get it. Driving is stressful enough in and of itself without adding the daily stresses like running or awful music on the radio to it. All I ask is for some perspective on the rhetoric.

Remember that driving is largely a social contract. We all try to be attentive drivers to the best of our ability but we will all lapse on these things. The idea is that when you lose focus and switch lanes without looking, I will be paying attention and not hit you. And on the flip side, when Men Without Hats comes on the 80’s greatest hits station and I’m too busy doing the Safety Dance in my front seat to notice the light just turned red, you’ll notice and not hit me. Sort of a you scratch my back and I’ll not crush you with two tons of steel situation. When two people simultaneously have lapses, accidents happen. Driving is about trusting your fellow citizen, a difficult concept for some. The reality of the situation is that it’s not that hard to get a driver’s license. All you really need is a lack of outstanding warrants and traffic fines, and twelve dollars. If the law was aware of all that shit that you do, driving drunk or tired or angry or any other state that prevents you from paying 100 percent attention to the road at all times, they’d take your license away without a second thought. But they can’t know these things. We can’t expect them to govern these things, it’s just not realistic. That’s why we have social contracts. They work well for everyone.

Here’s the thing that really freaks me out. Road rage. What a weird thing, and a lot of people actually boast of their road rage. Stop that. Sometimes people will lose their cool and start yelling at other drivers while I’m in the passenger seat. Holy shit, keep that craziness to yourself. Don’t put m e in the middle of it. Picture this: You’re walking down Hollywood Boulevard searching for Ozzy’s star so you can affectionately rub your genitals on it, when you pass a bit too close to a homeless man. He starts screaming at you. You get out of there as quickly as you can and later tell your friends about the insane man losing his shit because of something incredibly trivial. You were right too, because yelling at strangers in public is what crazy people do. And I know you think nobody notices when you’re in your car but I’m here to tell you that you look every bit as terrifying and hilarious as that crazy homeless man.

So calm down, accept you suck just as bad as everybody else on the road and for the love of god don’t complain about stupid drivers on Facebook or Twitter or Friendster (kids still use Friendster, right?). Oh, if you’re wondering “I wonder if he’s talking about me?” The answer is yes.

Now if you don’t believe me, for God’s sake, believe Goofy

 

by

A Memory of Light by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson

A-Memory-of-Light
Grade: B

I started reading the Wheel of Time series ten years after the first book was published and it’s still been over a dozen years for me. That’s the kind of series we’re dealing with here. The Eye of the World was originally released in 1990 and in case some of you have been holed up in fear of the Mayans and missed it, it’s now 2013. The original author, Robert Jordan, died after 11 books and an ill-advised prequel, and Brandon Sanderson took over for the last three. 14 books, 23 years, and we finally get to read about Rand’s fight with the Dark One. To be honest, I haven’t really enjoyed the series for a long time now. I loved the first three, liked the next three, and then due to a progression of mediocre books and a waning interest in fantasy as a whole on my part, I just read the following books out of a sense of obligation. I’ve anxiously awaited the end of this series more just to be rid of it than a burning curiosity of what the outcome of the Last Battle would be. And because of this I’ve never reread any of the books, meaning I read the first one 13 years ago and the subsequent titles not much after and for the life of me I can’t remember what the fuck happened other than the main plot points and even some of those can be a bit fuzzy at times.

With all this in mind, how do I give this final installment a fair review? I probably don’t, but I’ll try my best. First off, it’s long, and it probably has to be, but it’s entertaining pretty much the whole way through. It clocks in at just over 900 pages and I read it in a couple weeks which is the time it usually takes me to read a novel less than half that. So obviously it’s a page-turner. Most of the book is a battle between the forces of light and dark and Sanderson handles it well. He obviously knows his military tactics and it shows without the narrative getting too bogged down in the details. The main characters are all well-represented and get great moments of redemption or heroism or whatever it is they’ve been building towards throughout the series. There are deaths, a series like this absolutely has to kill some people you love or it just feels dishonest. But I’d argue not quite enough. Despite all the carnage and pain and suffering everybody goes through over the course of the series, it sort of feels like most of them get off just a bit too easy, at least from a dramatic standpoint. There are specific details but I’m trying to avoid spoilers because this is the kind of series with passionate fans and I imagine they will be offended if they stumbled upon this blog and read the details of the plot.

Let’s see, what else? The dialogue’s terrible, I mean really terrible. It sounds like a 13 year old who just watched Willow for the first time wrote it. But that’s been true of pretty much the whole series if I recall. The final confrontation between Rand and the Dark One is odd, though kind of interesting. Instead of an all out magic war of fireballs and lightning and frog plagues we get sort of a philosophical discussion on the nature of good and evil and their respective places in the world. I saw that as kind of a ballsy move considering a lot of people probably would’ve rather had the fireballs. The final message of the series seems to be along the lines of evil’s not really our enemy, so much as something for human beings to rise above. Or something a lot more poetic than that maybe.

The last thing I’ll talk about is that it just feels rushed. This is probably caused by the size of the series more than this particular novel though. After slowly building plots, subplots, tensions and conflicts over 13 books, finishing them all in one, albeit very long, book just doesn’t seem quite possible. This is particularly true of the ending. The middle section stretches out and allows itself to capture the enormity of a battle between millions of people and beasts. There are battle tactics that work and some that don’t. There are betrayals and victories and defeats and twists and it feels pretty authentic. Then the end comes and the last hundred or so pages comes and goes so quickly I started questioning why the lengthy, drawn out middle was so necessary. Then after the battle’s over there is virtually no epilogue (after an 80 page or so fucking prologue you can’t write a 10 page goddamn epilogue to tie up some loose ends and see off these characters?) , it’s just over.

I guess that point brings me to my final critique of this novel. It’s too long, but it felt rushed. How do you fix that? Don’t write a 14 book series.


Buy this book!

by

Bill

Bill pulled the door closed behind him, stood on the porch and lit a cigarette. One cigarette a day was all he smoked anymore. He wore a t-shirt and some shorts, the latter being too short and the former too long. His hair stood up on both sides and flat in the middle. The beginnings of a beard grew on his face. Bill thought he might shave soon but was in no hurry. He stepped down off the porch and onto the driveway. The mailbox loomed at the bottom, welcoming and exciting him. Bill had been a writer, once, in that he wrote a few things and sent them off to various publications. One had been accepted, and when the check came in the mail it was the single most thrilling experience of his life.
He dumped some ash onto the driveway and continued down. Mrs. Greyson, the widow next door, stood up from her garden, stretched her back and waved.
“Hello, Bill.”
“Hello, Mrs. Greyson. Beautiful day.”
“How’s your mom?”
“Stronger every day.”
She smiled. “That’s good.”
He nodded and returned the smile, then resumed his walk to the mailbox. His mother was sick, dying in fact. He had moved in with her five years previous. Everyone assumed he was a good son and taking responsibility for her. The truth is he was broke, and his mother had simply lasted a lot longer than expected.
Some kids across the street sat on their bikes and stared at him. He knew they laughed at him. A middle-aged man who’s best part of the day was checking the mail and smoking a cigarette while looking like he just woke up, shit he’d laugh too. But they didn’t know the pure joy of being paid for creating a story. He hadn’t actually written anything since he moved in with his mother, longer than that even, but there were a few stories he’d sent out that never got rejections so he figured it was still theoretically possible a magazine could publish one of them.
At the curb, he flicked the butt into the gutter where it floated away toward the sewer. Bill opened the mailbox. There was an electric bill, some coupons and a gardening magazine his mother liked. A last envelope caught his eye. It was hand addressed to him. He tore it open. The letter said:
You are cordially invited to attend the Santa Barbara writer’s seminar.
Bill’s heart leaped. He fought the urge to run over to the kids on their bikes and show them his invitation. What would he lecture about? Oh, he could talk about craft to the students but there would be plenty of that. He’d focus on the disappointments and dealing with rejection, because when somebody recognizes you and your work it’s the best feeling on earth and all the rejection in the world just can’ t compare. He excitedly kept reading.
Come learn from masters of their craft. The cost is only $350 per person.
Bill laughed, laughed so hard his eyes began watering. He dropped the letter into the gutter where the water slowly pulled it away from him. He kept laughing. The kids’ eyes grew wider and Mrs. Greyson asked if he was alright. He waved a hand at them. Once the fit had left him he reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette. He would have two today, so what? He lit it and breathed in. His mother would probably die soon and then at least he’d own a house. Not everybody could say that. Maybe then he could even start writing again. He exhaled and a cloud of smoke rose up, swirled around and faded away in the sky.

by

Grow Up by Ben Brooks

growup

Grade: B

Jasper J Wolf is detached, horny, disenchanted and distrustful of authority figures. He also does a lot of drugs, drinks and smokes. In short, he’s an updated, shallow, British Holden Caulfield. Don’t worry, author Ben Brooks saves us from having to figure that out on our own. In the second to last chapter of the book, just in case we’re incredibly dense, Jasper says “I am Holden Caulfield, only less reckless, and more attractive. “ As Jasper’s gearing up for his end of the year exams, he’s trying to prove his stepfather is a murderer, avoid any responsibility in regards to having possibly impregnated a chubby girl, have sex with his dream girl, and maybe even pass those tests. Other stuff is going on too, namely a possibly suicidal friend that he attempts to console.

The problem here is that this book never feels like a story. It just feels like a group of semi-likeable, at best, people are meandering from one place to another, getting high, drunk, laid, etc. That’s not always a bad thing, hell Bukowski made a pretty good career out of the same thing, but there just didn’t ever seem like much of a point. Jasper’s detached voice, the book is in first person, works sometimes, but most of the time it’s just too mechanical. It’s hard to believe that this kid could be the way it is and still be highly functional, especially to the point of pretty regularly having sex. Though to be fair, the sex he does have is either while incredibly inebriated and once he borderline rapes a girl. To be honest, as I was reading it I figured Jasper was autistic, or had aspergers. The bottom line is that this kid is way too socially awkward for the action of this book to be believable. I was that fucking kid for Christ’s sake. Trust me, kids like Jasper don’t just walk into sex in high school. We fight tooth and nail for every nipple and handjob we get until college. The old high school loser in me gets a little offended at these kind of stories.

One other minor thing I had a problem with is the fact that Jasper seems infinitely smarter than every adult in this novel. I hate that. Teenagers are dumb, all of them. Adults are always smarter than them. Always. Teenagers always think they’re smarter and that can work well in fiction, as long as it’s clear that it’s only in the kid’s mind that he’s smarter when in fact we, the reader, know that he’s full of shit. Ben Brooks seems to want us to think that Jasper is actually smarter than all the adults around him. This isn’t a deal breaker, but it does annoy me.
I’ve said an awful lot of negative things about this book, I realize that. Some might be wondering why then would I give it a B? Mostly because it’s funny. This book had me laughing through most of it. You can open randomly to almost any page and find something pretty hilarious. Watch, I’ll do it now (you’ll just have to believe I’m actually opening the book randomly right now). Page 41: “I stand up. There is blood on and in the immediate vicinity of my penis. This is the most disgusting I have felt ever in my life. Ever. The immediate future will only prove at all bearable, provided Abby Hall remains sleeping. Plump Abby Hall with her obnoxious breasts and acne.” I don’t know if everyone will necessarily find that funny, but I do. And it pretty much perfectly sums up the character of Jasper. He’s crude and selfish, but he’s pretty articulate about it, which I guess works as enough of a redeemable trait to make him enjoyable enough to hang out with for a few hundred pages.

Final thoughts: This is a quick read, so I would definitely recommend it for that reason. It aims to be something profound and I feel it fails, but it’s entertaining and you’ll get a couple good laughs and a couple good cringes out of it. If you like crass humor, designer drugs and teenage sex (come on, who doesn’t?) then you should have a good time with this.


Buy this book!

by

Hello

Welcome to my blog.  Though I don’t know what brought you here, maybe you are a fan of literature, or you love reading about other people’s opinions on movies, or you’re just really bad at searching for internet porn, either way I will do my best to make your stay enjoyable.

I’ll be writing a lot about books, reviewing them mostly, because I feel I’ve got a decent amount to say about them.  I’m a bookseller and a struggling writer, so clearly I’m full of rage and jealousy at anybody more successful than myself.  Which is pretty much everybody.  But mostly, I truly do love to read books and I hope you find my thoughts on them worth your while, even if you disagree with me.  I’ll be reviewing mostly fiction, mainly of the literary variety but my no means exclusively, and I’ll also be sneaking in some of my own stuff now and again just to make me feel like I’m doing something productive with my life.

I’ll also be reviewing movies here.  I tend to be a harsh critic, but I can’t stand people who assume that just because a movie is “mainstream Hollywood” it must be artistically bankrupt.  There will be reviews of Indy flicks as well as the big studio pictures.  Hell, I might even throw in a couple Jennifer Aniston Rom-Com’s just because it’s my blog, and I can.

Now here’s something I feel is important.  I won’t only be writing about new releases.  Whatever I happen to be reading or watching at the time, I will write about.  A lot of this will be new releases because that’s the nature of the beast, but I will not limit myself to it.  I might pop in a review of Taxi Driver at some point if the mood strikes me.  It’s also worth pointing out that because I am a bookseller, sometimes I’ll get an advanced copy of a book and have a chance to read it before it comes out.  When this happens, I will include a release date in the title of the post so it’s clear that you can’t run out to your local independent bookstore (see what I did there?) and purchase it.

Finally, there will be some musings on this site too.  I’ll share ideas, opinions, neuroticisms, and soul crippling fears from time to time.  Oh, and there will be some sports related material too.  Though not often.

So that’s the introduction to my blog.  Hopefully you’ll come back.  Though who am I kidding.  Nobody’s reading this particular post.  Except my girlfriend, who is awesome.