Sweet potato pie with a scoop of vanilla
Here’s a summary of activity for November, 2017.
I didn’t get as many reviews and things done this month as I had hoped. Mostly this last month has been the beginning of feeling like hibernating, but I’ve managed to reach my reading challenge of 50 books read this year over on Goodreads, so, you know, at that rate, I’ve only got two more decades of reading in just my stack of to-be-read books. At some point, maybe already, I will have more books in just my to-read stack than I will be able to finish in whatever life time I have left … But, the cats are getting more and more cosy and comfy, and there’s plenty of hot tea, so it’s okay. I’m also almost at a 300 day streak on DuoLingo which is cool. I’m currently working on German, though I’ve also been doing High Valyrian for extra fun. We’ll keep on keepin’ on!
Here’s a summary of posts on the blog from last month
- Spicy cheese hotdogs — Visual
- A Darkness Surrounds Him — Review
- Spicy and savory Kimchi hotdog — Visual
- Bubba Ho-Tep — Review
- Peanut butter, butter, and banana — Visual
- Total Recall — Review
- There are actually seven cats in this picture — Visual
- The Dulwich Horror — Review
- Open face pita — Visual
- Gathering firewood this weekend — Visual
- Itsy Bitsy — Review
Spicy cheese hotdogs, with Sriracha mayo and furikake, inspired by the Mojo Dog from my old neighbor Mojo Crepes in PDX
Outcast, Vol. 1: A Darkness Surrounds Him by Robert Kirkman, Paul Azaceta, &al., collects the first issues in an interesting new story in just as dark and depressing a world as Kirkman’s The Walking Dead and the show. It’s an interesting take on possession horror, but here’s the thing: I’ve gotten tired of the depressing and awful trudge through mud that is The Walking Dead, and that’s not even mentioning the unappealing-to-me descent fully into torture porn, so the promise of another whole series just as persistently relentlessly repetitively rotten and dark just doesn’t do it for me. Beyond the gore in this one, given the way exorcism horror goes, more torture porn is sure to come as well. It’s not bad. It’s actually good at what it does. I just have trouble finding a way to want to go further in either story. But, if you’ve got the wanderlust for more dark travels without respite, this would no doubt appeal. For myself, I enjoyed it for a while, and again here, but I’ve moved on.
Spicy and savory Kimchi hotdog, inspired by the Seoul Dog from my old neighbor Mojo Crepes but I’m out of Gochujang this time, so I improvised …
I was looking for books set in the weird west, for reasons, and ended up being reminded that Bubba Ho-Tep by Joe R Lansdale was a book before it was a movie. So, I got sidetracked by this one, which is a kind of hillbilly gumbo of conspiracy theory supernatural horror humor. As a bonus, there’s even “West Texas” hieroglyphics. Turns out there’s also a sequel, which is probably just as ridiculous … ly awesome as this one. Guilty pleasure, to be sure, but who isn’t seduced by the spectral comfort of butter fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches like this, especially in our declining years as we try to remember which famous person we once were while battling the forces of evil?
I made 25 highlights.
Total Recall by Philip K Dick was originally titled “We Can Remember It For You Wholesale”. Wow, is that original title retro-awesome or what? Well, I read it. I mean, I think I read it. I remember reading it. I have evidence to remind me I read it. I’m still not totally sure though. But, as long as I’m alive, the world is safe from aliens, so it’s all good.
I remember loving the Paul Verhoeven / Arnold Schwarzenegger cinematic rendition, but I’ve not yet seen the Len Wiseman / Colin Farrell remake. Getting into the original story was a good mix of nostalgia and surprise. I could feel lots of the inspiration for the movie, but there was still a lot of difference. I loved the layered twists in the short story and they definitely felt more PKD than the movie, for sure, of course; identity, memory, and one’s place in the universe—all tricksy, mostly beyond one’s control, and questioned. Good stuff and darkly humorous.
I made 16 highlights.
The Dulwich Horror by Oliver Harris is an entry into the corpus of Cosmicism, but not really Lovecraftian. It’s not set in New England, but rather in London, England proper. It doesn’t feature the Elder Gods, but rather an interesting twist on the Old Norse Gods. The protagonist’s name is Ursula, and that’s a bit too on the nose; and I just couldn’t get Disney out of my mind each time I read her name; but, on the whole there’s a good story with interesting ideas, with a real-feeling setting, and compelling familiar flavours of horror in an interesting new mixture. The story is from the viewpoint of a female protagonist who has a bit of a family secret, and so this also, it seems to me, overcomes some of the sexist and racist othering legacy of the Lovecraftian corpus, and thus I feel this is another welcome addition to the ranks of new Cosmicism.
I did get this book because Oliver Harris is the author of “Lovecraft, Cyclonopedia and Materialist Horror“, in the Cyclonopedia Studies section of Hermetic Library. Harris should not be confused with the crime writer of the same name, but consider checking out that essay and this story.
I made 6 highlights.
Here’s a summary of activity for October, 2017.
It continues to get darker and drearier up here, as the cold starts seeping in for real. The cats are getting more and more cuddly, and the weight of them at night is like sleeping in a mummy bag, trapping me in cat created claustrophobia …
Lots of reviews this month, and food. Cats, books, and food. I’m okay with that.
Here’s a summary of posts on the blog from last month
- Principles of Extreme Living — Review
- Turkey BBQ burgers — Food
- Spicy pork rice bowl — Food
- Five sleeping floofballs — Cats
- Cheeseburgers — Food
- Red Dragon — Review
- The Pauper Prince and the Eucalyptus Jinn — Review
- The Yanthus Prime Job — Review
- Histoires à lire le soir — Review
- Omon Ra — Review
- Straw Boss — Review
- Perfectibilists — Review
- Descent Into Hell — Review
- Jambalaya rice — Food
- Three cats on a chair — Cats
- Frontier Communications is wack and sketchy — Review
- The Complete Kotlin Developer Course — Image
- Civil Disobedience — Review
- Around a year ago, Mars came inside — Cats
- Glitch — Review
- KLF — Review
- Chameleon — Review
- The Infinity Gauntlet — Review
- Botchan — Review
- Cheddar and asparagus stuffed chicken — Food
- The Copper Cascade — Review
- The Goat — Review
- Parallel Lives — Review
- The Big Embrace — Aside
- SOLO live at The Chapel — Aside
- Little Boy Lost — Review
- The Golden Key — Review
- Alighting on His Shoulders — Review
It’s definitely the same literary voice I recall, though from translations by the same translator, so … who’s voice is it luring me in? Ironically, the title story is only the first 1/3rd of this volume. The remaining 2/3rds is taken up by two previews for other Lindqvist books. So … this story is something of an anglerfish trying to tempt you in with promises for more of what you want.
The story itself is a twist on what seems at first to be a simple tale of a paparazzi waiting to capture the perfect picture to sell, but is taken down by a tickle being given to his deep desires.
I made 3 highlights.
The pamphlet Black Book Volume 1: Principles of Extreme Living by Christopher S Hyatt, with Nicholas Tharcher, S Jason Black, has a lot of quotable quips, but one must consider them in context of the question “to what end?” I suspect that far too many would read this as a primer on how to justify being worse assholes instead of a call to action to become better. I think the text’s attempt to be shocking and a splash of cold water make it difficult to arrive at the challenge to exceed of the latter, and will ultimately appeal mostly to those seeking the former as confirmation bias to stay stuck.
In this sense, I might argue that the kind of “extreme living” is a form not of excellence but of self abuse, not just abuse of others, ultimately amounting to a kind of principled self-hate for the human condition, which I think is a social one that draws an overall arc to increase interdependence and mutual aid in spite of meanness and hatred. If one constantly draws the circle of their care in the world closer and sharper to the self then there’s no surprise that so much hate springs forth from such sad little monkeys who drive themselves slowly insane nurturing hate for others ultimately cannot but aim inward for recognition of their own inexorable humanity into become self-hate and abuse.
There’s a Venn diagram of reasons I read this, which include Hyatt’s esoteric work, the place of Falcon Press as a once great publisher of still notable esoteric and outsider materials, and so forth, but also that I was interested in trying to understand a bit more about how groups such as the MRA people justify themselves to themselves. Although I read this before the most recent events around alt-right and white supremacy movements occurred, I have to recognize there are a lot of overlaps, not just to Men’s Rights Activists. There’s a strain of thought here that seems to get picked up over and over again through the years.
It all still seems like faulty thinking and broken feeling to me, and I can’t help but wonder if they might find a way to heal themselves from whatever damage they are acting out and perpetuating if they tried to less willfully cleave to and suckle from the dystopian wire monkey of their hatreds.
If you can filter that dross and drek out, and not be put off by the overstatements attempting to shock, there is a call here to realize that the self lives in relationship with other, and that means there is useful dialectical interplay between both self and other. If one manages not to forget the relationship part, there’s something to be said for the need for a kind of rigor to being true to oneself as long as one is heading along whatever path toward excellence one takes. There is a healthy reason to have a balance, even if maintaining that balance requires discipline that may seem harsh at times to others; moreover that discipline of self balance is itself a skill to develop.
But I think the idea of extremes advocated here is more likely a form of dysfunction than one of excellence, most attractive to those seeking to justify being shitty in a world trying to route around them as energetic dead ends, those who are essentially necrotizing tumors in the collective body the rest of us all share.
I have a kind of morbid historical curiosity about the other volumes in the series, but, really, I don’t see the point in going further. It seems to me these kinds of screeds are best remembered as examples of how thoughts and feelings can go wildly wrong and then become codified scar tissue, not as exemplars to emulate or follow. I suspect one should know these errors well enough to avoid them and then do that.
I made 40 highlights.