CANNONBALL READ: BOOK FOUR

"The Yiddish Policemen's Union," by Michael Chabon (Harper Perennial)

Michael Chabon has quickly moved to the position of my favorite author. The way he handles his stories, the reader has no choice but to follow along, enraptured and entranced in a fictional recount of quasi-non-fiction events. The town of Sitka, Alaska exists; but Chabon's interpretation would lead the reader to believe it were of an entirely different makeup. TYPU tells the tale of Detective Meyer Landsman; divorced from his wife, distanced from his partner (also his cousin), and living as a shell of a human in a shady motel room. He drinks almost constantly, always teetering on the brink of a hangover that would send him crashing into the pathetic reality his life has become. Going through the motions has become an absolute chore, one that Meyer doesn't see himself trudging through much longer. Then, the death of a random heroin junkie, who happens to live in the same motel as Meyer, starts to turn everything around. That is, until Meyer's ex-wife Bina, the new police chief, returns from her training seminars.

Sitka, a place where Jews have found a sort of safe haven from European prosecution and American profiling. Up until this point, the Jews of the region had divided themselves as they felt fit, and were governed as any province would be. Now, with the American government pushing for a redistricting of sorts, Sitka will now be included under the federal wing, making all of it's inhabitants illegal unless they can get approved for their visas, and disassembling all governing bodies, whether official or not, to the standards and approval of the US government. This redistricting is forcing Bina's boys to resolve all open cases efficiently and completely, thus forcing her to disregard the case of the mysterious heroin addict in Meyer's place of residence. The blatant disregard of rules plus, an intriguing underlying connection to his sister's death pushes Meyer to pursue the case on his own, forcing him into an array of disastrous situations.

Chabon's theme of Judaism throughout his works (that I've read) is incredibly interesting for me. While the religion is never the main point of the works, the radiation of customs, traditions, language, and laws are unmistakable. His handling of prose as well as the development of his characters (especially Landsman's cousin/partner Berko Schemets - the half Eskimo, half Jew, father of way too many children) takes his literature to a whole new level, and is always wrapped up in a favorable way at his conclusions. Not favorable as in happy, but favorable as in you feel complete, no questions are left unanswered or lost along the way. I can't speak from experience, but to me a good author can not only tell a good story, but end it as well, and far too often I'm left empty when I've finished reading as of late, but not with Chabon. Whether it is his intention or not, Chabon not only books your plane ticket, but calls you a cab to get you to the airport, picks you up when you land (you can find him because he's got one of those neat little paper signs with your name on it that you've always wanted), and drops you at the hotel when you've arrived; just to make sure that you're alright in this new state of mind to which he's brought you, and that you enjoyed your journey.

CANNONBALL READ: BOOK THREE

Book Three: "Dress Your Family In Corduroy And Denim," by: David Sedaris (Bay Back Books).

If you've never before read David Sedaris, anyone will tell you how wonderful he is. The stories are written as a memoir style, but he has described his books as, "someone keeping a journal," and that someone is very similar to himself. "Dress" is no exception to his quirky, exceptionally funny, and often outrageous biographical re-imaginings. There's not much else to say about the book except that after finishing, you wish that not only was your dad a rambunctious Greek tightwad who stayed up late into the night drinking coffee obsessively with your lackadaisical mother, but that you possessed the creativity and comedic timing that would allow you to portray your family in the light that Sedaris does. Admittedly, some of the stories sound awfully familiar to memories I have of my own childhood, but I feel my lack of drug abuse and or working as one of Santa's elves in Macy's are what stop my stories from being nearly as heartfelt, let alone hilarious and just God damn charming.

Like any collection of shorter stories, the pages fly as you wander through the labyrinth of Sedaris' memories. The chapters I enjoy, in particular, are any having to do with Sedaris' long time partner, Hugh. I long for a life where I could pick up and move to an Italian villa, a Paris apartment, or just hang out with friends while I wrote amusing anecdotes and spent time with Ira Glass. While the heart of the tales remind you of your own families' dysfunction, the remote locations or unbelievable predicaments (like wondering why no one mentioned the fantastic view Anne Frank had out of her hideout) gently remind the reader that this isn't your life, because there's no way you're actually that clever. But we like to pretend that we are, which is why Sedaris is so wonderfully enjoyable.

IN MY PANTS.

I didn't post at all in December?
That's depressing.

I guess that just leaves more Cannonball Reads to add since I'm retarded and never put them in here. And apparently that's what happens when you have a real job and have no time for yourself. How do you real adults do it? Working all that time, being exhausted, then coming home and dealing with people who just hound you constantly? That's fucking insane.

In essence, I love my Ma, for doing all of that and more.

LE TIRED.

Working a full time job sucks.

Whoever thought that was a good idea?



And someone needs to tell Ohio that 65 is not an acceptable expressway speed limit.

HOWARD DEAN.

I. Love. DVR.
BYAAAAH!!!

BECAUSE HE'S OLD.

This is FANTASTIC.

See more Hayden Panettiere videos at Funny or Die

TASTE THE HAPPY MICHAEL.

So I just saw Sex Drive.

Awesome.
Definitely the love child of Can't Hardly Wait and Superbad.
Which is good.

It's this generation's movie they'll quote for the next thirty years.
And everyone needs one of those.


THE BIG MAC THING WON'T GO DOWN!





But I'm still way more excited about this...


There's a better trailer somewhere but I can't find it.
The search continues.

SHUFFLE LIKE ITS 1985.

And I sang this all day Sunday.


Along with:
BEAR DOWN, CHICAGO BEARS. MAKE EVERY PLAY, CLEAR THE WAY FOR VICTORY!
Etc.

We got hit on by creepy men at B-Dubs. I guess we had it coming.

AIN'T NO PARTY.

Also,


My tea in the parlor makes the ladies holler.
Word.

ENSUING HILARITY.

I cannot get over how much I love the Fug Girls.
Thank God the website is blocked at work*. If it weren't, I'd undoubtedly be laughing aloud all day at my desk. Which, aside from proving I wasn't checking the work of brilliant engineers, would disrupt others from doing so.
Check it out.
*Actually, I don't know if it's blocked. I only assume that it is because every other website I've tried to look at has been.

I'm excited about House and Fringe tonight. I did miss last week's Fringe, but I didn't see, like, the first three episodes and then saw the fourth or whatever and I still followed it okay. I'm so glad that House and Wilson are back together. If I had to spend even one more episode with them not even talking, I might have quit the show. I'm serious. Quit. QUIT. It's not like I don't have a bunch of other stuff to watch now either. Having a set work schedule frees up so much time to sit around and watch TV, it's insane.

Since I used to work nights and didn't have DVR and was too lazy to catch up to everything online (plus before that I was at school and didn't have a TV in my room that got channels), I only watched 24 and House. Which was fine, because 24 was only on after January, and that's only Monday and Tuesday, freeing up, well, all my time. But now. Now that I not only have DVR but am home by like, 4:30 pm everyday? Boy howdy, I'm like a TV crack head.

Monday for now is just Heroes but will soon have 24 to keep it company (after the 2 hour event in November - HOLLER!).
Tuesday is House and Fringe.
Wednesday equals Pushing Daisies and Private Practice.
It gets tricky on Thursday because all the shows are on at once. Supernatural and Grey's are both at 9 but I watch one live and tape the other so I'm set, then It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is at 10 and 11.

Sadly I no longer get HBO or Showtime so I won't be able to watch Weeds, entourage or True Blood live, but I'm pretty sure I'll get over it. They don't need the ratings that the network shows need since they're premium cable or whatever and they're all set. And why the hell didn't I have a DVR before? IT'S AWESOME.

Also, when I set up my cable and high speed internet, I asked to make sure that it was wireless compatible because then I wouldn't have to worry about what room the modem was in...negative. They ignored me and didn't do it, so now I have to wait or something until they figure it out. Which is cool, because my TV keeps making this dumb noise constantly and they should probably fix that too. Bitches.

My third book for the Cannonball Read is Cold Mountain, but every time I try to read it I fall asleep. I already don't like that there's no direct dialogue, it's all an outsider point of view, and I'm only 50 pages in. I've never been one to abandon a literary challenge, but this is going to prove tricky. I had to put down Hugh Laurie's book over the summer because it was just so...wordy. I understand a want for the mood and crap like that, but God damn. It's like adjective and metaphor overload. They might be similies, but I can't think of an example off the top of my head. Either way, it's hard to barrel through.

This was awfully ranty. I'm going to go get ready for House.

CANNONBALL READ: BOOK TWO

Book Two: "Bloodsucking Fiends," by: Christopher Moore (Perennial)

Ever since I was a kid I've always loved vampire stories. Except for the two episodes of 'Are You Afraid of the Dark' that had vampires in them, because those scared the crap out of me. Regardless. "Fiends" was a refreshing, cleverly written story of Jody, a newly turned vampire in San Francisco. After suffering drudging feeling like my brain had melted upon the completion of the Twilight Saga, I was hesitant to approach a genre that had brought me so much satisfaction in the past, but I was pleasantly surprised. Moore's humor is predominant in the novel and keeps the story going where it might have been dry and predictable. Thankfully the story starts right away, and while some of the details are brushed over, the mistakes are easily overlooked due to the fast paced nature of the prose.

Jody, a serial monogamist, suffers through her relationship with Kurt, a stock market enthusiast, until she is walking to the bus stop one night, is accosted, shoved under a dumpster, and left for dead. Upon waking, she ventures home, realizes she's had enough of Kurt, and takes off; after launching a potted plant at his thick head. After her initial doubts, her fears are confirmed; little Jody, is in fact a vampire. In shuffles Tommy. Tommy is fresh off the truck from Incontinence, Indiana, defying his blue collar heritage by snubbing a union job and heading to San Fran to live as a starving artist. They run into each other and move in together. Logical. Impulsive. Whatever. Tommy soon learns of Jody's ... um ... condition, but instead of repulsion and fear, he's filled with amazement and curiosity. Their relationship with each other is the prime concentration of the book, and where it becomes monotonous and tedious, the secondary characters enter to liven up the plot.

The simplicity of the plot works in its favor. The story and characters aren't tied down with unnecessary back story and convoluted story lines. Constant flashbacks that confuse the reader are not an issue, but random occurrences don't work to Moore's advantage. The vampire that created Jody, Elijah, finds her amusing and in an attempt to make her aware of her short comings, decides to frame Tommy for the murders of multiple people. Moore only lightly touches upon his vampire lore, perhaps for the better, as we never know what comes of the conversations between Jody and her maker. Jody's mother, Frances, makes an appearence for no reason, but is harassed by the pair's snapping turtle, which is funny, so we'll call it a wash.

All in all, the shortcomings of "Fiends" are outweighed by the light, entertaining, and enthusiastic writing of Moore. He takes us through Jody and Tommy's relationship without loading us with dumb, romantic details that have no place in certain novels, and his recognition of this is appreciated. The introduction of Steve, a med student at Berkeley, sets up for the next novel, which I might consider reading. As long as it doesn't turn into a vampire love fest, because I'm entirely worn out of beautiful, flawless 'people' loving the non-existent piss out of each other. Thanks Stephenie Meyer, you pretty much ruined my life. I hope the movie sucks as much as I think it will. I digress. "Fiends" is worth the Saturday afternoon that you'll extinguish to put it to sleep, and it won't haunt your mind later (ala "Twilight") due to absurdity and nonsense. Shortly, it was enjoyed and recommended for a nice, light read.

CANNONBALL READ: LISTY-LOOOO.

So here's a list of books that I own, that aren't graphic novels or under 200 pages that I plan to read for C.R.

1. Possession, A.S. Byatt
2. In Cold Blood, Truman Capote
3. The Yiddish Policeman's Union, Michael Chabon
4. The Birth of Venus, Sarah Dunant
5. Foucault's Pendulum, Umberto Eco
6. The Black Dahlia, James Ellroy
7. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Jonathan Safran-Foer
8. Cold Mountain, Charles Frazier
9. The Gun Seller, Hugh Laurie
10. The Road, Cormac McCarthy
11. Bloodsucking Fiends, Christopher Moore
12. Choke, Chuck Palahinuik
13. Haunted, Chuck Palahinuik
14. Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, David Sedaris
15. Naked, David Sedaris
16. Requiem for a Dream, Hubert Selby, Jr.
17. East of Eden, John Steinbeck
18. Vanity Fair, William Thackery
19. Holding on to the Air, Suzanne Farrell
20. When You Are Engulfed In Flames, David Sedaris
21. Dead Until Dark, Charlaine Harris
22. Assassination Vacation, Sarah Vowell

Plus a ton of Grisham that I've collected but never read that I'll have to balance out Eco, Thackery, and the Complete Works of Jane Austen I picked up.

I only need like . . . seventy more.
...balls.

CANNONBALL READ: BOOK ONE

Book One: "YOU SHALL KNOW OUR VELOCITY!", by Dave Eggers (Vintage Books)

The thing I love about Dave Eggers is everything. There is not one thing I dislike about this man. His writing in particular, is catchy, exhilarating, fun, amusing, exotic, and bewildering; plus about 10,000 adjectives that I don't even know but all mean 'awesome'. He's like a genius or something. I got into Eggers when my best friend bought "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius," and then bought a copy for me on my 20th birthday. This book revived our love of words. Dave Eggers resuscitated our deep love for verbage that grabs your hand and yanks you out of your seat and drags you, not unwillingly, along on his tour through all of the cobwebbed edges of his mind. And you're never disappointed. Ever. At least I'm not. And I'm the one that matters here.

Since the only description given on the book is, "$32,000 must be given away in a week, around the world. But why?", and I didn't even read that until I was just about to open it for the first time, I knew nothing about it. Kind of fitting for the challenge. The book recounts Will's quest to give away his windfall of cash on a tour around the world with his good friend Hand, after the untimely and totally unforeseen death of their friend Jack. 100 books in a year, around the world in a week; not too far fetched (and starting on Columbus day!). The boys encounter some trouble in the execution of their travel plans, as none of the countries they want to travel to have flights in or out of them without hours/days wasted in layovers and in countries that don't matter to them, and those pesky things called visas. Their final itinerary looked something like this:
Chicago to NY to Greenland
Greenland to Rwanda
Rwanda to Madagascar
Madagascar to Qatar
Qatar to Yemen
Yemen to LA to Chicago
But upon realizing none of that was possible, they opt to schedule just their return flight from Cairo and figure out the rest along the way. Greenland was too windy so they end up in Senegal. From Senegal they travel to Morocco, England, Estonia and Latvia; along with many cities and destinations that were reached by car, before flying to Copenhagen to catch their separate flights to separate final destinations. Along the twisted roads, Will's inner dialogue, which consists of conversations he holds with people nearby but in his head, fill in the details of his past few months. We learn why Will is temporarily slightly disfigured, why Hand's nickname is Hand (other than the fact that 'Hands' sounded too much like someone who would want time alone with your children), and Will's admiration of Winston Churchill. We also start to feel the pull of Will's reality; how awful he feels with all of this money, all of this weight, thrust upon him and unable to move. He's paralyzed by guilt and a feeling that all the horrible things that are happening are recompense of being a bastard as a kid; pushing people too far, breaking too many bounds with no countenance. He's backing himself into a corner , but he's constructed the walls himself.

Although not to his extent, I have recently felt dead ended, pressured upon by those who aren't living my life, can't make my decisions; I was immobile, travelling in a decrescendo. Eggers' grasp of language allows for seemingly ordinary emotions, feelings, to take on a whole new meaning and texture. Things that are old seem new, events that are commonplace seem adventurous and exciting. His way of stating facts becomes so witty, you wish you were able to speak the tone in daily life. And the use of illustrations (in both works I've read), is spot on. Graphics and blueprints that seem so silly, but express the urgency with which Eggers wants you to receive his vision. I enjoy these because it states, "this is not open to interpretation. This is how I envisioned it, and so shall you, reader." Eggers illuminates all 351 pages with colorful wit and an exciting tone that grabs you right from the beginning. "Y.S.K.O.V." is a breathtaking read, and in my opinion, a very optimistic start to my yearlong journey to dominate my brain.

Any suggestions?

[Some quotes...
"We would oppose the turning of the planet and refuse the setting of the sun."
"When did planes get so slow?"
"Qatar, in a ludicrous show of hubris for a country the shape and size of a thumb, wanted a visa that would take a week to process." *I've never seen 'hubris' used outside of Greek mythology, and he does it beautifully.*
"I wondered how loudly I could hang up." *You've had that feeling. I know I have.*
"Use contradictions, goddammit. You sound like an alien."
"Janet Jackson was tinkling from the speakers, asking what we had done for her as of late."
"We gave up on taping money to animals. We were now looking for people."
"The day had been long, and I wanted beer. I wanted four beers and many potatoes, then sleep."
-"I don't feel bad about that," Hand said.
-"I hated that fucker."
"I don't know. I don't think he'll keep it. He seems like the kind of guy who'd give it to someone else. He was like someone out of Middle Earth - a man and his staff, walking through the countryside in the middle of the night."
"Hand slapped the counter. I feared he would whoop."
"Put that heave into a small velcro pocket in the parachute pants of your soul."
"No one knew just how to dance to 'Stairway to Heaven.' Some continued to hobble slowly, ignoring the quickened pace, the sudden urgency, all the screaming, while most people started bouncing a little, jumping in place, maybe a little air guitar, anything. It's just the wrong song for dancing; that's the lesson there." *Truth.*]

CANNONBALL READ: INTRO

Reason #458 of Why I Love Pajiba.
They come up with things called the Cannonball Read.
All of the detailed information can be found here, but the gist is that you read 100 books in one year, and you rock out doing so. Nothing under 200 pages, no graphic novels, and short stories have to contain at least six stories to count. Other than that, go to town.

I officially started on Monday, October 13, 2008.
Wish me luck.

FOR REAL.

So I got totally excited when I realized that I was going to have a desk job because I was like, "YES! I CAN KEEP UP WITH PAJIBA AND COMMENT LIKE A REAL ELOQUENT!!"


NEGATORY.

Not only can I not keep up, I can't even use Pajiba at all. Or any other website.

UUUGGGHHHHHHHHH.

GUM WOULD BE PERFECTION.

This is perfect.

I love The Fug Girls.

ROCK ME SEXY JESUS.

Okay, Supernatural last night...
SERIOUSLY?

SERIOUSLY!?!?

I am LESS than excited about this season if this is how it's starting. Jared, work with me, stop making your face seize in the middle of scenes. I know you're supposed to be 'angry' and 'livid' and plenty of other lovely adjectives, but none of them include 'epileptic' or 'stroke victim'. FOR REAL. And Jensen, your Jack Donahgy voice sucks and it's getting really annoying. Everytime he opens his mouth and the stupid 'Bat Voice' spills out I want to punch him. And I wouldn't even care that IF I did hit him it might damage his wonderfully beautiful mug. UGH.

SO FRUSTRATED.
...more to come when I settle down.

FRAK.

So I get home today and see a FedEx box wedged between the glass and front door. "EEEEEE!" thought I, "MURDERTANK TEEEEEEEEE!"

nope.

It wasn't even for me.

I did get my new glasses today (after waiting almost two weeks, ew.), which is nice. So now I can see things, which is helpful, and I don't have to wear my old glasses/contacts. I hate my contacts. Well, my eyes hate my contacts. Whatever. I'm over it.

FUCKING.

Statements that Need Fucking in Them:

1. I fucking love cereal. Especially Crispix.
2. I fucking hate ignorant radicals (from either side).
3. I hate stupid fucking drivers who cannot stay in their own lanes - THAT'S WHAT THOSE LINES ARE FOR EMMEFFERS, THEY AREN'T A SUGGESTION.
4. I fucking love Newsies.
5. I want to live across the fucking pond.

CRISTO.

Oh, I mentioned something about doing a reel time review thing of Supernatural once season 4 started? Well, whatever. What I can tell you is that it won't be on here. Nope.

I just started Supernatural Survival Guide.
And I'll do the reel times on there.
If it works.
Which it might not.
So whatever.

I need sleep.