“At the wedding, are you gonna dress… like you normally do?”
“What?” she snapped up, inexplicably indignant. “What do you mean, ‘like I normally do’?”
“Well, I mean, like you’re brain damaged, and blind, and impersonating Bob Marley.”
She squinted at herself in one of her circular head-shop mirrors.
“I don’t look like any of those things!” she insisted. “Okay, dreads, sack hat, maybe, but this is called style, okay motherfucker? Something you know nothing of.”
“See, not true,” Brian returned. “My style allows for periodic bathing. My wardrobe is refined, if casual. Your shirt currently has the word ‘Dick’ on it.”
She looked down at the screenprinted snow crab on her t-shirt, flanked by the words “Filthy Dick’s Crab Hut.”
“That’s totally out of context.”
“It’s really not, though. It’s a double entendre. That is the context.”
“How about you take your fancy booklearned French words and you jam ‘em up your ass? How about that, buddy?”
To save its lone customers from the awkward perils of solo dining, The Moomin House Cafe kindly seats diners with stuffed animal companions called Moomins, a family of white hippo-like characters created by Finnish illustrator and writer Tove Jansson.
cuz you’ll look like you have a shit ton more going on in your life if you’re eating with a giant plush hippo in a top hat
That was a pretty good book up until the last chapter when they were like SO REALLY GREENPEACERS ARE LIKE THE MODERN SAMURAI BECAUSE AT ROOT ALL WARRIORS ARE CONCERNED WITH THE ECOSYSTEM
shut the fuck up, King Arthur wasn’t an environmentalist. I’ll give you Teddy Roosevelt inasmuch as he was a “warrior” of the same caliber as those hunter-gatherer murdertribes, and obviously Sioux braves and any soldier-class associated with “Tao”
But the cowpoke-warriors who virtually extincted buffalo? Not the Greenest maneuver! And why would you bring Gilgamesh into it? Gilgamesh killed a monster specifically so he could deforest its forest. That was his whole game plan.
Tagged by: madmanswords
Rules: In a text post, list ten books that have stayed with you in some way. Don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard — they don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you. Tag [ten] friends, including me, so I’ll see your list. Make sure you let your friends know you’ve tagged them.
I’m going to talk about mine in an effort to make you care.
- The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. Soviet satire wrapped in religious satire — in the words of childofthhesea, “it’s 400 pages of people buggin out”. You get a visceral sensation of resolution as the book winds down, and I haven’t read anything else that can do that.
- The Stand by Stephen King. I read this for the first time when I was twelve — full, unabridged version, thick-bound and water damaged — and all my secular grade school teachers kept nervously asking if it was the Bible. I’d grin and say, “Almost.” Stevie K frames up a relatable apocalypse via freak monkey-virus. When the world is in pestilent tatters, prophetic dreams, low-grade ESP, and a man who may very well be evil given physical form turn what’s left of America into an extinction-level game of Capture the Flag. I’ve read this book four times, at different ages, and I still think it’s King’s best work.
- The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien. Read this in grade school, and about a half-dozen times since. Bilbo gets his shit together and stumbles off through the monomyth. I’m not a big fan of Tolkien (I couldn’t even get through Fellowship when it was on audiobook), but the Hobbit’s one of the best, and probably wholly responsible for my adolescent descent into D&D nerdery.
- Don Quixote by Big Daddy Cervantes. This one struck a chord. Don Quixote just wants to do what’s chivalrous and valiant and brave, and he’s trying like Hell to drag his vision of righteousness into a real world that wants nothing to do with it. He’s convinced he’s this knight-errant paragon of truth, and everyone else thinks he’s just fuckin’ nuts. Because he is.
I know that feel, bro.
- Red Dragon by Thomas Harris. NBC’s Hannibal gave this book some much-deserved play, although they changed everything around. In the book, Will Graham is juggling two personas - the likable everyman, his Social Mask — and his Jungian Shadow, the thing that lets him profile these killers. In the show, he’s more of a broken puppy. In Red Dragon, he’s just a normal dude with a family and hobbies, struggling to placate this dark power swimming around in his brain, constantly fighting a looming existential crisis (a knife Lecter twists in Will’s gut, figurative this time: "Don’t you understand, Will? You caught me because we’re very much alike. Without our imaginations, we’d be like all those other poor… dullards. Fear… is the price of our instrument. But I can help you bear it."
And on the other leg of the plot, Francis Dolarhyde struggles with his own madness, but it’s so well written that you can relate. You can see yourself in his predicament, in thrall to the Dragon in his head. You know he’s a monster, a killer, a sadistic rapist… but that’s not really him, that’s the Dragon. He’s trying to live a normal life, wrestling with his own darkness, and you root for him to conquer his demons, to outmuscle his psychosis even as you root for Will Graham to do the same and catch the murdering bastard. Easily Harris’ best.
- The Spenser novels by Robert B. Parker. This is not one book. This is forty, but they all follow a similar serial template. Spenser’s a modern knight-in-tarnished archetype. He is snarky, self-assured, and unshakably independent; that is to say, sort of a dick. Also a professional dick. Like, detective. He ambles around aimlessly punching out gangsters and thugs, getting into fatal shoot-outs at least three times a novel, eating fancy-ass food with his erudite friends (his beautiful shrink girlfriend/”girl of his dreams” Susan and his incredibly well-read professional assassin BFF Hawk). Although most of the draw is his repartee with whoever he encounters, the books are exciting, engaging, and some of the easiest reads I’ve ever encountered outside of young adult literature (although he did write ONE young adult Spenser novel, called Chasing the Bear, that had all the same traits… but after reading the other 39, I felt kind of condescended to.) Spenser’s main deal is the shirking of convention in favor of the innate following of one’s moral compass. Doing what’s right not because it’s easy, not because it’s the law, but because he KNOWS it’s right. He also struggles with alcoholism and has periodic breakdowns about the casual way he’s forced to kill people (he never fires first. Spenser isn’t like Hawk, and that’s a revisited concept throughout the series as well). Fortunately, his girlfriend, the Romantic maiden which he does all his knight-errant adventures in the name of, is a Harvard-educated psychologist. The breakdowns don’t last long.
- The Book of Merlyn by T.H. White. I was very young when I read this, and I think it’s pretty obscure, but it was laying around the house and it taught me most of what I understand now about political structure and sociology.
- Darkside Zodiac by Stella Hyde. I’m not hugely proud of his one, but a few years back I read Darkside Zodiac and then fuckin DEVOURED the entire astrology section of Barnes and Noble. I know way more about astrology than is characteristic or appropriate. I was one of those outraged douchebags back during the Orpheus scandal, yelling about how “the misalignment of stars doesn’t maaaatter”. For those curious, Sagittarius/Capricorn cusp with a moon in Pisces and Scorpio rising. I can tell you about planets, too, what they mean, combinations, the whole nine yards. Clashes with my skeptical science-guy bent, but hey, it got me into psychology because it’s all about classifying people by perceived behavioral traits.
- The Games People Play by Dr. Eric Berne. A treatise on the various implied “games”, or patterned psychodramas, that make up the bulk of human social interaction. Given quirky names like “i’ve got you now you bastard”, the games are broken up into short paragraphs that describe the underlying emotional (and unfortunately, often Freudian) currents of the exchanges.
- D.C. Superheroes Super-Healthy Cookbook by christ only knows. In 3rd grade, I borrowed this book from the school library every single week. Never got to make anything in it. Couldn’t tell you what was in it, aside from “Flash’s Quick Apple Crisp”. It was just a normal-ass cookbook with drawings of Batman and Green Lantern in it, but that concept was almost too much for me to handle.
All right, that wraps up the list. I’m not gonna tag anyone because I don’t have tumblr friends. I prefer to be a faceless sorta voice, just kind of yelling into the void and sometimes people are like “AIN’T THAT THE TRUTH” and that’s the end of our relationship.