Archive for the ‘for the shamefaced love of the ugly vice’ Category

Every now and again I’ll go on a binge reading marathon. It helps when said marathons coincide with the times my body goes on strike, because then I can fill two purposes with one volume.

I do read every day, regardless of how I feel. Even if it’s only a few pages, I read. After forty years I kind of feel empty if I come to the end of a day and haven’t read.

But the binge days are different. They hit every six or seven weeks, completely out of step with my other biorhythms. When they arrive I feel this gut-wrenching crave for reading. I don’t want to do anything else. I just read. I plow through books like the razor prow of a ship slicing through the thick salt sea and let idea after idea churn in the foam.

This particular binge has been inconveniently overlaid on my chemo days, which are better suited for unremitting nausea and inescapable sleep. So I solved the problem by reading during every waking moment, rising above the nausea by focusing all my brain’s intent on Winterfell.

The bad thing about this has been the dreams. I’ve read four books in three days, finishing three new ones and meandering through A Clash Of Kings the way one meanders through a book they’ve read and read and read. But when I sleep–and I sleep a lot–the four books sort of congeal and reform a sort of…what’s that word…chimera. A chimera of love story and murder story and high fantasy and low humour.

I’m scared to sleep now.

I’m sure this happens to other people; I’m not anything all that special. I wonder if they, too, get to the place where they’re startled to hear someone speak to them. In the books no one talks to you. Even when the writer breaks the fourth wall you always know that there are millions of yous being addressed. You are never the only you in a book. It is kind of strange to suddenly be pulled back to the plane where you exist in truth.

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There will be strong language and strong thoughts ahead, so only jump into this if you’re so inclined. (more…)

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This post over at Bob Krumm’s reminded me of a rebellion I’ve been contemplating.

I’m to the point that if I see that Singing Cowboy ad one more time I’m gonna go buy a pack of the nastiest, most unfiltered stanko cigarettes and smoke em’ all down to their dogends. I, who have never smoked. (Okay, yeah, once I tried someone else’s cigarette to see what the fuss was all about and was not swayed. But I’m not a smoker.)

That ad is so cutesy and pretentious, especially at the end where they put the little dingbat over random heads of those listening in the crowd with the blurb ‘Knowledge Is Contagious’ under it. Seriously, who doesn’t know that smoking is not really a good idea at this point? I know people keep fussing about our immigration problems, but unless we’re importing huge piles of people from Jupiter, I really think that by now we all get that Smoking Is WrongBAD.

Do ads like this do anything except annoy me before various movies, imply that everyone who smokes is lacking in knowledge (ie.stupid) and just generally create a permanent underclass of people in America?

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So I’ve been in this funky mood for awhile, feeling like I need a change. (Remember the whole “let’s do medical coding!” thing? Yeah.)

Yesterday said funky mood got the best of me when Blogger timed out at just the wrong moment. So I said something less than polite and made the switch to WordPress. I also made the switch from Safari to Firefox. This is what geeknerds do instead of having affairs. It’s the same thrill of the new without all the messy fluids and heartbreak.

So anyway–back to messy fluids. I wrote my “About” page this morning and used a phrase I’ve used all my life to describe the things most normal people refer to as “dust bunnies”. As an afterthought–because it’s always good to research things after you say them–I googled the term “slut’s wool”. It’s an archaic term, but perfectly normal otherwise.

But Google and/or Firefox had a nice list of “suggested terms” which came up when I typed in “slut”. As you can imagine, none of them had anything to do with dust bunnies. Or maybe they did. You never know what they’ll come up with in Japan.

Seriously, I know I was looking for an off-colour word here. But is it really responsible for Google to just put a list of a dozen free porn sites at anyone’s fingertips?

Oh who am I kidding. Right now at least half of you are on your way to type “slut” into Google.

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