It was a pleasure to burn. - Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
'Cause Sadie moved like water poured
The shapes she shaped had angels floored
She knew her walk turned wind to fire
A wink from Sadie turned brains to mire" -Tim Seibles, The Ballad of Sadie LaBabe
Friday, March 28, 2008
i loved these books as a child
Sweet Valley High is back. but this time, the girls are skinnier. the gawker feels this is to ensure "preteen and teenaged girl readers are sufficiently insecure about their bodies."
the girls have gone from a size 6 to a size 4. oh, that was so necessary.
To have values or not to have values: the question is always with us. When sociologists undertake to study problems that have relevance to the world we live in, they h d themselves caught in a crossfire. Some urge them not to take sides, to be neutral and do research that is technically correct and value free. Others tell them their work is shallow and useless if it does not express a deep commitment to a value position.
This dilemma, which seems so painful to so many, actually does not exist, for one of its horns is imaginary. For it to exist, one would have to assume, as some apparently do, that it is indeed possible to do research that is uncontaminated by personal and political sympathies. I propose to argue that it is not possible and, therefore, that the question is not whether we should take sides, since we inevitably will, but rather whose side we are on.
* later he calls sociologists politically liberal.
58% of the US adult population never reads another book after high school 42% of college graduates never read another book 80% of US families did not buy or read a book last year. 70% of US adults have not been in a bookstore in the last five years 57% of new books are not read to completion. Most readers do not get past page 18 in a book they have purchased.
this is terrible! i am so glad i am a 'reader' and encourage my child to do so as well. aside from other benefits, it's fun to lose yourself in a good novel.
41 books in 2007. this is less than last year, and i know exactly what the problem is. it is not that i am reading less, inf fact i am for sure reading more, but journal articles. these are not books. FYI, i read 56 books in 2006 and 43 books in 2005. i miss fiction.
speaking of, i need to get on ordering books for this semester.
THE ABSTINENCE TEACHER. By Tom Perrotta AFTER DARK. By Haruki Murakami THE BAD GIRL. By Mario Vargas Llosa BEARING THE BODY. By Ehud Havazelet THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS THAT HEAVEN BEARS. By Dinaw Mengestu BRIDGE OF SIGHS. By Richard Russo THE BRIEF WONDROUS LIFE OF OSCAR WAO. By Junot Díaz CALL ME BY YOUR NAME. By André Aciman CHEATING AT CANASTA. By William Trevor THE COLLECTED POEMS, 1956-1998. By Zbigniew Herbert
then you are not like Rachel Toor. here is an excerpt from a great, and well-written, article.
"Each time I’m in the throes of writing a book, I realize that I have somehow forgotten how exhausting it is, how much it hurts. After writing for a couple of hours, I have to go lie down, wrist thrown across an aching forehead. It helps only a little to remember that I am not alone, to think of George Orwell’s comment that "writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness."
It’s not only doing the work that’s hard, it’s also the recognition that you never quite know when it’s over. Once you get through the labor of creation, there’s the torture of revision. You can revise for months. For years. You can convince yourself that, unlike a Thanksgiving turkey, it’s never going to be done. In a way, having deadlines, while adding cuticle-chewing stress, can be a boon.
I will allow that there may be people who like various aspects of the writing process. For some, it may be the excitement of facing a blank page. (Hate them!) For others, it could be a sense of getting a sentence just right. (Jerks!) There may be those who like the revision process, who can go over what they’ve produced with a cold eye and a keen ear and feel a satisfaction in making it better. (Liars!)"
I am young, I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow. I see how peoples are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slay one another. I see that the keenest brains of the world invent weapons and words to make it yet more refined and enduring. And all men of my age, here and over there, throughout the whole world see these things; all my generation is experiencing these things with me. What would our fathers do if we suddenly stood up and came before them and proffered our account? What do they expect of us if a time ever comes when the war is over? Through the years our business has been killing;--- it was our first calling in life. Our knowledge of life is limited to death. What will happen afterwards? And what shall come out of us?
yahoo answers, well, answers. i'm not sure what is going on here.
What is the best paragraph 2?
The plastic clown hanging aslant from the paper streamers caught Megans attention particularly. “That will make a fine start. A very fine start for a very new beginning,” she said while fishing her Zippo out from her ratty backpack. Since the plastic took a while to catch, the lighter became hot but Megan did no flinch, but only grimmaced behind her spectacles.
Best Answer - Chosen by Asker
Megan was already two blocks away when she heard the sirens. She would have turned to see the smoke but her new MaryJane shoes were pinching her terribly, and she could only think of pladding straight forward toward home to take them off. Though she could smell already the vaporizing tar from the roof of Mrs. Hurtelot's house, she was no longer thinking of fine beginings, but of a plate of Oreos and a frosty glass of milk.
i found this neat book club, as it is described. there's no way i would ever really catalogue all my books, but it is neat for suggestions. i see potential here that i would never take advantage of.
The Sneetches by Dr. Seuss. This is one of my absolute favorite stories. Focusing on prejudice, it demonstrates the silliness of segregating people based on categories (race, religion, gender, etc). The story's strength is that it shows just how arbitrary these categories are.
The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. In this classic story, a new mother suffering from what we might today call 'post-partum depression,' sinks into a still-deeper depression invisible to her husband, who believes he knows what is best for her. Alone in the yellow-wallpapered nursery of a rented house, she descends into madness.
"Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?" He asked.
"Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop."
"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."
(both quotes from Lewis Carroll's "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," available in full-text here.)