I NEVER HAVE TO READ IT AGAIN

I finished War and Peace the other day. I was thoroughly unmoved. Although the book certainly had its strong points. Tolstoy was examining relatively recent events that shaped his world and he did so with grace. I actually found the War sections of the book more interesting than I thought I would. Regardless, I was more drawn to the Peace parts and the interconnections between various families. At the same time, I didn’t find either topic particularly moving. I much prefer Dostoyevsky's proletariat people to Tolstoy's aristocrats. If you haven’t read this book and plan to please be aware that there are some spoilers ahead. They come very soon in-fact. Stop reading unless you don't care.

In the footnotes of one of the first chapters, I was told that Pierre and Natasha would be the main characters in the book. Knowing how Russian Literature of the period tends to work, I assumed that this meant they would be love interests. I wasn’t surprised to find that the entire book led up to them getting married. The sad thing was that their marriage seemed to ruin both of them as interesting people. However, since they get together at the end of the book, you don’t have to suffer through much of their downfall.

Natasha was a trip in her own right. A beautiful wonderful girl whom everyone loved, she found her stimuli in singing, dresses, boys, and the occasional hunt. She was boy crazy from the beginning and, I believe, was about 9 or so when the book started. I think the boy was at least 16. I don’t really remember; it was thousands of pages ago. I think Pierre was in his late twenties at the beginning of the story. I know that differences in age were a different story in those times and that in some places they still aren’t as big a deal as I think they are. Even so, it grossed me out and made me hope that my supposition that they were to be wed would prove to be false. Throughout the book this girl did nothing but talk about boys, fall in love with Borris, go to balls, fall in love with Andrew, wait for Andrew to return, fall in love with some other Prince whose name I can’t remember but he got limbs cut off and then died, fall into a deep depression because Andrew left her, Reunite with Andrew on his deathbed and rekindle their affection, mourn his death (which was necessary so her brother could marry his sister), and fall in love with/marry Pierre (Andrew’s best friend). Those happenings took about seven hundred pages.

The other eight hundred pages were about the Napoleonic wars. While that information was relatively interesting, I could have read a history book and been spared some of the fluff. Then again, I wouldn’t have got the philosophical discussion about the nature of man and the nature of war. The idea that I found the most fun was how the people who plan for and execute wars never are truly in charge of them because victory depends primarily on the mood of the people on the front lines. It is a rather obvious premise, but interesting to explore nonetheless. The discussion of why certain battles were won and others lost was also of interest. Those looking back on history claim to see the planning and foresight that goes into turning the tides of war and tend to give generals too much credit and ignore all the chance occurrences that truly drive the course of action. It made sense to me.

I could have got all that in about three hundred pages or so. Maybe four if I want a lot of detail. No matter, I’m done now and I never have to read it again. After my first attempt succumbed to boredom I was determined that my second would be a success. I refuse to be conquered by another piece of literature. I will not have another Ulysses.

I am now reading The Areas of my Expertise, by John Hodgeman (sorry Monica I know I was supposed to give it to you). Something totally made up that I don’t even have to read in order sounded pretty good. It is.

1. Down in the cellar in the Boho zone/ I went looking for some sweet inspiration/ Oh well, just another hard time and with Negro affectations

2. I just wanna fuck bad bitches/ all them nights I never had bitches/ Now I’m all up in that ass bitches/ Mad at your boyfriend ain’t you

3. Well showing how it used to be/ So hard/ This hard /Used to get those kicks for free/ But now I’m towing the line

4. Oh we could rock/ Or we could bomb/ Or we could try/ Like super hard.

5. Waiting/ On a Sunday afternoon/ For what I read between the lines/ Your lies. Interstate Love Song, Stone Temple Pilots. Identified by Johnny Yen

BOOKWORM MEME

I would be lying if I said I was disappointed by this season’s ANTM premiere. The girls, while totally fugly to the naked eye, took some exceptionally decent pictures. However, I think the judges made some very wrong decisions, primarily like letting Kathleen go and keeping Natasha. Don’t they know that mail order brides that couldn’t possibly be taller than 5ft7 make bad models? I certainly think this crop of girls is more promising, and entertaining, than the last few seasons. Those were just super boring. Then again, give this one a few weeks and I could be singing a different tune. Having Monica and Chanda around to watch was particularly great. I enjoy things more when there are friends to be seen. After the show we got our Dance Dance Revolution on for a while and that was a good time.

Tony and I were going to go and see This American Life today. It is the last taping in Chicago and we thought it would be super great. Sarah Vowell, Dan Savage, and David Rakoff are going to be on. Unfortunately, a lot of people had the same idea and there was only one seat left open in the theater. Stupid stupid stupid. We should have known better than to try and get tickets today. Davis Sedaris will be coming next month though, we should be much better about getting tickets for that one.

I took this meme from Used*to*be*me because it is all about books and, as you know, I love books. I wish that I had read every book on the list because that would have given me a superior feeling but I read close to half and decided that isn’t all that bad.

Instructions:
Look at the list of books below.
*Bold the ones you’ve read
*Italicize the ones you want to read
*leave plain the ones that you aren’t interested in.
*(I added something to it) If a book is one of your top twenty put a smiley face next to it. If it is something you hated put a frowny face.

1.The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2.Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3.To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10.A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11.Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12.Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13.Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16.Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban(Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien) :)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis) :)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie(Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert) :)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell) :)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True(Wally Lamb) :(
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb):(
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky) :)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand):)
63. War and Peace (Tolsoy) (does the first hundred or so pages before it got too boring and full of aristocratic snots count? I think not) :(
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez) :)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller) :)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery) :)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams) :)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding) :)
93. The Good Earth(Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield) :(
100.Ulysses (James Joyce) :( :( :( see posts labeled Ulysses for all the reasons

Cool Blue Reason, Cake- Cake really reminds me of college, Sr. year in particular. I never really liked this song. I listened to it a lot. Probably because no one wanted to get up and change the song and we couldn't find the remote. Speaking of not wanting to do things, I am bringing rock, paper, scissors back in a big way.

Doo wop, (That Thing), Lauryn Hill- Yeah I am not proud that I own this. I am less proud that I enjoy it. This is another reason why I am not the president of the Cool Club and only the treasurer.

Stone Junkie, Curtis Mayfield- Thank god that something of this nature came on to save me from all the bad music aforementioned. I will leave you with the thoughts that I am a smooth funky soul sister. Yeah, believe that.

DREAMS TO REMEMBER

The boredom cannot be surpassed. There is nothing quite like nothing. You look around you for something to keep your attention, something to entertain and pass the time. You wish there were some pressing issue that demanded your full attention and brainpower. Well maybe not all your brainpower but at least some of it. Your fingers tap mindlessly on the keyboard in some sort of attempt to produce something vaguely worthwhile. In fact, your main goal is simply to make life bearable. If something of substance comes forth you will undoubtedly be happy but it doesn’t really matter if it does or not. All you want to do is listen to the melodic tap-tap-tapping of the keys. It allows you to zone into some kind of hypnotic trance and the random thoughts in your head simply come out. What they are doesn’t matter. They could be nothing; they could be dreamlike fragments of memories past. It doesn’t matter. Time is slipping by.

Last night I dreamt I was in a boardroom. There was some sort of project that needed to get done and I was new at the table. Everyone else had been working on the project forever and what they were talking about made no sense to me. I don’t think it mattered though. I was merely taking minutes, or so I thought, until my opinion was asked. I had nothing to say. I was frozen in time and empty of mind. Two people next to me got up to have sex in the bathroom. I didn’t see it but somehow I knew that was what was happening. I don’t know how I knew other than the fact that it was my dream and, therefore, my world so I knew. The tapping has stopped. My mind went numb. When the people came back they came alone, they thought it was less suspicious that way. I still didn’t know what to do with the project. I don’t remember what the project was. It had charts and graphs and colors, maybe it was a weather map. I have no idea.

I hate when you have dreams that you can’t remember. I suppose we don’t remember the vast majority of our dreams. I always thought about keeping a dream journal but then got to sleepy to remember to put something down by my bed to write in when I wake. I don’t know if it would make a difference though. But then again I think that it would because we always remember our dreams better right after waking, if we are to remember them at all.

There are a few dreams that I always remember. Those with the Blue Meanies. I don’t remember how old I was when my parents took me to a double feature of Yellow Submarine and The Point but I feel I must have been quite young. Maybe five or so? I remember that as if it were a dream itself. It’s all in sepia tones except for the colors on the screen. They are vibrant. There was music and singing and stories. It invaded my dreams for years.

The Blue Meanies in dream world aren’t nice at all. They aren’t cute and funny and mean like in the movie. They are horrible ogres with sharp teeth (I guess they were sharp in the film too) and they want nothing more than to eat and torture small children. They took their hatred of love to a new level in my subconscious. In the first of my reoccurring Meanie dreams, the Meanies capture all of the children in the world and hold them in cages under the ocean. Somehow I am able to escape from my cage and have to save all the children of the world. I am doing pretty well when those awful Meanies start to come after me. I seem to lose hope but notice there is a drain at the bottom of the ocean. If I open the drain then the Meanies will be sucked down. Somehow I get word to the parents of the kidnapped children and they come down to help me free them. When the drain opens the Meanies are sucked inside, but so are some of the parents and some of the children. Although many were saved there were some I could do nothing for. Children left without parents, parents left without children and of course there was not happy ending where they just met up with someone and went home to start a family. Instead there was crying and misery and blame, on me. Some of the time I would get sucked down the drain too and wake up and want to cry. Sometimes I would.

The second, and worst of the Blue Meanie dreams focused on me and Shoshana, my little sister. We arrived on a world where there was the most wonderful amusement park across an enormous chasm and we wanted nothing more than to play there. Unfortunately, it was guarded by the biggest ugliest Meanie you ever saw. Luckily for us, there was a wooden plank on chains above the Meanie’s head and we were able to climb onto it and swing over the chasm and play and play until we had out fill. All we had to do was go back over the chasm and get into our spaceship and go home. Invariably, while we were crossing some of the chains would snap and little Shoshana would fall off the plank, straight into the mouth of the Meanie. He would gobble her up so fast and start licking his chops for me. I was crushed. I couldn’t let him do that to my sister. I jumped up and down on the plank until all the chains broke and the plank fell down and squished the Meanie. I had avenged her, but she was still gone. She was mine to protect and I failed her. I would wake up scared, sometimes peek down to the bottom bunk and make sure that she was ok. She always was.

Why as a young child did I feel I was responsible for saving the world from loveless creatures from hell? What kind of responsibility did I think I had to the world? It makes sense that I wanted to be a Dr. growing up. It makes sense now that I am trying to make people’s live more economically viable. It makes sense that I want to educate those who need the most education. It all makes sense but what was the trigger? What drove me to this path of fighting uphill battles and feeling that failure in my endeavors is inevitable? Not personally failure of course, I feel I do good work and am proud of it. I am thinking more of general societal failure. It’s so depressing.

How did I get to this? I suppose that’s what you get when you just type the thoughts that are coming into your mind. Maybe I am Ulysses. I told one of my co-workers about it and she said that it made sense why I couldn’t read the book because I was battling myself. Battling my own consciousness and thoughts. I thought that was incredibly interesting. How much of an obstacle am I to myself? Probably a huge one. I have all kinds of ideas and plans and goals but I just don’t do anything about them. I am far too content with the status quo even though I complain about it constantly. How can someone be content with something that drives them crazy? I don’t understand. I need to get a move on and go to school and do something with myself. It tires me out too much to even think about it sometimes. For a person who does absolutely nothing as often as possible I sure am exhausted. Maybe I have mono. I’m not that tired though. I’m tired mentally. That makes absolutely no sense because my brain is never challenged anymore. Maybe that is why it is so tired? Maybe that is why I can’t read Ulysses? I have gotten stupid, complacent, and dull. Or maybe the book just doesn’t make any damn sense and needs to get over itself? Maybe I need to get over myself? It’s all far too complicated.
Let me stop this madness, I actually have to go do some work for about ten minutes. Segue to songs.

Santeria, Sublime- This now reminds me of the most horrible SVU I ever saw. Where they were importing children from Nigeria to be sold into slavery either for labor or sex. This poor boy was killed and cut up in an attempt to frame those who practice Santeria in his murder. Law and Order doesn’t have me in tears often but this episode just ripped my heart out.

Coffee Shop, Red Hot Chili Peppers- why is it that I have decided that One Hot Minute is a good album I didn’t like it all that much when it came out but I really enjoy it now. Maybe because we change as we get older. That’s a real obvious thing to say.

Greatest American Hero Theme Song- Okay, this is quite possibly the greatest theme song ever. Not only because of the whole Seinfield phone message thing and how my friend Robin also adopted it for her message. Simply because it is just one of the most uplifting sings a loser could ever listen to.

SCARIEST MOVIE EVER

So I realize that I may be the most behind person on the planet for this but I finally saw an Inconvenient Truth last night. Now I knew all about the horrors of global warming and I try to live in a way that makes me a very minor contributor to the problem. Part of that is that I am too poor to have things that would really contribute much but we’ll just say it is because I am conscientious. Since I would be conscious of emissions if I were to purchase emission releasing things it makes sense. I digress. The point is that although I considered myself to be fairly well informed there was a lot I learned from the film.

The images of water rising over cities throughout the world were simply insane to watch. The disappearances of huge lakes, snowcapped mountains, rivers, etc made me want to cry. At the end of the film, where it was showed that using the technology we have we could put levels back to where they were in the 70s and we were doing nothing made me so upset and frustrated that I simply didn’t know where to vent my anger.

I began to think of where our country would be if the 2000 election hadn’t been stolen. I have thought of this before, of course, but not to such an extent. Instead of being scorned by the rest of the globe, America may have had a chance to better itself and, as a result, the entire world’s situation with Gore leading the charge. Instead of that, we have a war-mongering dolt sitting in the white house. I also had to wonder that with Gore out of politics, who will take up the cause of the environment in the Senate and the Congress. Without many passionate people in Washington the growing awareness matters very little. As was said in the movie, the issue will not be important until people pressure their representatives to take a stand. When will that be?

When Gore talked about the distortion of the media surrounding the issues related to global warming I was not surprised but I was dismayed. People tend to be stupid and listen to what they want to listen to. If the media keeps telling them that global warming is a theory, they can continue to ignore it. All the sensible people know that it is fact. You don’t even need to be a scientist. You don’t even need to see pictures of glaciers melting. All you need to do is look at the thermostat and take a walk outside. It is the middle of December and people in Chicago are walking around without hats and gloves. That is a serious problem. I used to wonder if I remembered childhood winters as worse than they really were. Winter now in Minneapolis is nothing like it used to be. I remember school being closed for cold. Not for snow but simply because it was too cold to go outside. Granted I don’t live there anymore but the time I spend there in the winters just isn’t all that bad. It’s the middle of December in Chicago and there was a few inches of snow for a few days. It makes no sense. This happens and people continue to tell us that global warming is a theory?

I’m sure I’m preaching to the choir here. I would guess that anyone who reads this already knows. I just had to rant a little bit. Now, when people ask me what the scariest movie I have ever seen is, I don’t have to think about it. Move over original Amityville Horror (not that new piece of shit that couldn’t scare a mouse), An Inconvenient Truth has stolen your place.

Now to reveal another truth, the unguessed songs.

1. Tell em I’m driving and it’s all right turning on this wheel turning on headlights. Driving, PJ Harvey

2. In the right light study becomes insight but the system that dissed us teaches us to read and write. Take the Power Back, Rage Against the Machine

After all the jacks are in the boxes and the clowns have all gone to bed. The Wind Cries Mary, Jimi Hendirx (come on people that was so incredibly easy)


So I was doing my blogsurfing thing and saw a new quiz. It was the what book are you quiz. I love books and I love quizzes so I was super excited for this one. I am.......






Wait for it






You're Ulysses!

by James Joyce

Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Can you believe it? I think I am going to hang myself. Goodbye cruel world. In case you missed why I am now going to kill myself, see This Post

THE BANE OF MY EXISTANCE

I consider myself to be a rather erudite person. I can dissect the written word and discuss its inner workings with others. I can write about allegory with ease. I love the way a well-written sentence pours off the tongue when read aloud. My dreams often have narration. I guess what I am trying to say is that I like books.

I have read books that I don’t particularly like for various reasons. I have a hard time with Tolstoy (although I won’t argue the man’s obvious talent) because his characters seem like a bunch of uppity snobs. I can abide that in English authors but when it comes to the Russian word I prefer the proletariat characters of Dostoyevsky. I am occasionally bored with 19th century American writers because I find their tone to be rather depressing, but not in an interesting way. I like new writers and old, simple and complex, verbose and curt. However, no matter how much I like or dislike a book, I can always appreciate it for what it is.

That is, until now. I have been defeated. Twice. I have read the word and the word has spat back in my face, vehemently and with glee. It has conquered my intellect, broken down my resolve, laughed at my despair. Joyce. Damn him and his words. To be fair, not all Joyce need be damned, only Ulysses. I read this book about a year ago. I read it cover to cover. I comprehended the majority of the happenings of each page, but as a whole I couldn’t put it all together. I realize that it corresponds to The Odyssey and that my Homeric knowledge leaves something to be desired. It’s been a long time since 9th grade. Maybe if I cared enough to reread that I would be able to understand the meaning of Ulysses, but I doubt it. I understand the book takes place in the span of one day and is a very involved telling of the day’s happenings. I understand that there is much stream of consciousness inner dialogue going on. All this makes sense and as it reads alone I can comprehend. It’s the sum of all the parts that escapes me. Earlier this month I decided to try again (although I still haven’t picked up The Odyssey so maybe that should have been my first step) this morning I took the cursed book from my satchel and defiantly left it on the couch saying, “You will torment my mind no more!”

I just don’t care enough. I have accepted that Ulysses has won. I am likely not the literary mind I thought I was. I can’t understand everything. I can’t interpret the world. I don’t like admitting this. I feel like maybe I should just get some Cliff’s notes and pick the thing up again. The thing is that I have never needed those before and I don’t want to need them now. I should just understand. I should get it. This is supposed to be one of the world's great literary achievements. I should appreciate it. I can’t. I don’t know where to turn or what to do. My world has been shattered. Damn you Joyce. Damn you and your Ulysses. You have made a fool out of me.

I now turn to my one solace, music I know and you don’t (but you might)

1. Hey people looking out the window at the city below. Hey people looking out the window for the fun and sorrow.

2. Ooohh I bet you’re wondering how I knew ‘bout your plans to make be blue. I heard it through the grapevine, Marvin Gaye. Identified by Mom.

3. Everywhere I hear the sounds of marching charging feet boy. Streetfighting Man, Rolling Stones. Identified by Mom.

4. Who you trying to get crazy with ese don’t you know I’m loco. Insane in the Mmbrane, Cypress Hill. Identifid by Brooke.

5. For years I have been waiting and hesitating to make a rap record that has the pace of a slow song quiet storm chillin while the fire is warm. Time To Chill, DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince. Identified by Brooke.

Easiest Shuffle Ever