Reading Rainbow

The other day I was reading an article I came across on Fark the other day that said that Harry Potter was bad for readers. In fact, I went through and dug up the article so you can read it here. Although there are a couple of things I don't really agree with this guy on, such as his assertion that everyone in America is somehow "required" to bow down and praise Harry, he does make some interesting observations. Such as "[W]e're experiencing the literary equivalent of a loss of biodiversity. All those people carrying around an 800-page novel looks like a great thing for American literacy, but it's as ominous as a Forbidden Forest with only one species of tree."

I'd never thought of books (or any other media) in terms of biodiversity before. But at the same time I always shrink away from anything that would take out the diversity of things. Like this thing with AT&T and other companies trying to become the gatekeepers of the internet. There is a lot of crap on the internet. And there is a lot of stuff that is superfluous. But if the sites that pay money to giant companies are the other ones that come up in a Google search, then we've lost the essence of the internet.

So in a way it's the same thing as this Potter-mania. Though no one is really blocking out other books, all we see when we type in "book" is Harry Potter. I guess what it goes to is something else the guy in that article said, something I'd heard before but blocked out. Half of all adults won't read a novel this year. Half of them! Not a single one! I think I've read about twenty books since January and I constantly berate myself for never getting any reading done. I go out and buy more books than I know I'll have time to read just to make sure that I never have an excuse not to be reading. And it's easy to get distracted, what with the internet and all, but still, not a single book? So if the only book you pick up in a year or two years or however many years is a Harry Potter book, then you are left with the distinct impression that Harry Potter is the largest literary achievment of our times. If I had stopped reading when I was 14 I would still be under the impression that "Shadows Of The Empire" was one of the top literary achievments to date. I re-read that book a year or two ago and I could barely get through it. Not that it sucks, really, but it isn't that well written, the dialog is goofy and forced, the plot is weak, and the characters are so simple (even Luke and Leah) that they barely seem worth my time to read about them. As a fourteen year old it was fantastic though. I read it five or six times the first year I had it (and still have the occasional flashback to my fantasies of Leah in that transparent green dress with the black body sleeve she wore under it). The point being, without other books to show me what I was missing as far as fiction was concerned, I never would have grown away from thinking that was as good as a book could get. And Harry Potter is definately in the same category as Shadows of the Empire. All action with a basic good v. evil plot. Listen, we have Star Wars. We have The Bible. Do we really need a third massively popular good v. evil?

I hope I haven't given the impression that I hate the books or the popularity. I like that books are still being read. I just wish that people read enough to know that Harry Potter books are what they are marketed as, kids books. It's fine to read and enjoy them, but don't hold them up as great literature. I've read two or three of the potter books and they are so lackluster in the way they are written, so empty of emotion and real human drama, that I can't, for the life of me, remember a damn thing that happened. And I've seen the movies. Or, I think I've seen all the movies. Whatever, the point is that I can't remember a damn thing about them. And you may be thinking "why blame a book for your bad memory?" but the point is I can't remember anything about them because there wasn't a single part in the books that was worth remembering. I read the books in about a day each and by the day after I couldn't remember what the hell had happened. A few summers I was on vacation in tahoe and my mom had some books and I read two of them in a row and I couldn't remember a damn thing about them by the next day. My aunt started asking me about something that happened in one of them and I was like "oh, yeah, that was, uh, neato." These books are not food for the brain, but candy, soft chewy candy that hurts your teeth and makes you sleepy once you start crashing from all the sugar. But then you wake up and you see half a bag and all you think is "oh, candy!" and you have finsh it off, because you didn't bother to even try to remember that you ate candy already, because it didn't seem important at all at the time.

Then There Were Three

Three posts in three days is almost a record for me. And I've got three plastic boxes full of books next to me. And there are three good Star Wars movies. That doesn't really have anything to do with anything.

I do need three letters of recommendation to apply for the University of Southern Maine. I've got two solid ones lined up. I don't know where I shall get the third. If I wait for like four more years I could have Dr. Chitwood write me up one, and they'd say "how do you know a doctor of History from Princeton?" and I'd say, "Oh, there's a lot you don't know about me." That's what I could say, all of this assuming zach actually would write me a letter of recommendation. And seeing as I think I mispelled recommendation... wait, okay, I spell checked and no I didn't, apparently, though I did mispell mispelled. Several times now. But it's better my way. I don't see any reason for double s's. What is this, 1939 Germany? Fucking SS's in words give me the creeps. Of course I see at least one example of double SS's in a word in this paragraph, so, yeah, whatever.

I was planning on finishing about three books this weekend. Instead I've watched several silly movies and I was just watching Spin City on my computer for the last three hours. It's a funny show. Stupid, but funny. And not always that stupid. Okay, always that stupid. I don't have to defend myself here. Hey I'm not on trial. Not like all those damn SS's officers. Fuckers.

Some of the pressure I was under yesterday has gone away. For the first time in a long while I feel like I can really relax for a while and not feel like crap about myself. I keep feeling like I'm not living up to my potential. But I got my diploma in the mail the other day and its sort of relaxed me. When I was on my trip I was just fucking hard all day everyday trying to find interesting things, travel far distances, meet strange people I could work into characters. And the whole time I felt like crap because I didn't feel like I was getting anything really done. But then I look back on it and realize thats how I felt all through college and now I have this shiny new diploma to show for all that crap I wasn't getting done and it reminds me of how it all adds up.

I want to send a story in for publication this summer. I really need to start trying to get some stuff published if I want to get anywhere. I'm doing an online workshop with some classmates of mine and its going alright. I suppose, I've not really been much of a part of it yet because I couldn't do the discussion last week. But they are keeping it going and its nice to have a reason to really try to get some shit done over the summer when its so easy to just kind of fuck around with a few story ideas and not finish anything. Although I haven't finished anything this summer. But I'm in a sort of perfect storm of ambiguity and confusion and disinterest and some other weird emotions that, while they could be good fodder for future stories, make it nearly impossible to write anything right now. I've got to either hit the eye of the storm or get the hell out of it before I'll get much done, I think.

I just jammed myself in the eye with my finger trying to get an eyelash out. I'm glad I didn't use a pen to get it out like I thought about.

I really should go to the store. And clean out my car. I need to pack some stuff in there and its just a mess. And theres a cobb salad from yesterday in there that I'm starting to worry about. Really worry about. But fuck, its really hot outside. And I'm wearing clothes I'm too embarresed to be seen in public wearing. Even the parking lot. Parking lots are the real downside to aparment living. I don't like being out there cleaning my car, anyway. They all watch me, and wonder how a guy could have that many packs of cigarettes and soda cans in his car at once. Really, three trash bags full? They ask in mocking silence. Listen, I realize I generate a fair amount of waste in my day to day life. And really, I'd do something about it. But in a surprise ending I'm actually a villian from Captain Planet, whose evil plan to pollute the world so that property values will plummet and I can purchase the land and then clean it out and dump the waste into a school playground and then sell it for several times what I paid for it. Bwahaha!

Also, I just hate cleaning out my car.

Something Came Up

I am hopelessly addicted to the White Stripes. I bought the new album the other day and have listened to it all the way through about twenty times and I can't stop thinking about it. And I don't even think its as good as their other albums. And don't talk shit about Meg or her drumming. (Fresh Air, 6-22-2007, interview with Jack and Meg White, listen and understand the essence of their sound, including the drumming) You know who I'm looking at, Paul.

The thing is I don't really fancy myself as being all that into music. And I'm not, really. It's more background noise for me most of the time. But, yeah, I can see how people can go completely nuts for bands and want to follow them around for years and years. When you really connect to something it just stays with you throughout ever moment of the day. I suppose its a little like being in love. Or something less cliche sounding.

I haven't been able to focus on anything for a while now. Not since before finals, really. I mean, other than the White Stripes. I haven't been able to write much. I mean, part of that was all the travel, but I had time to work on stuff, and even when I pull out my mac and sip a half-caf non-fat mochachocaluke-ahmoocow lattechemacchi (that may have gotten a little out of hand, I was trying to poke fun at myself for using a mac. I actually just drink plan coffee. Because its cheap and you can get free refills and if you put enough cream and sugar in it it taste just the goddamn same as a fifteen dollar drink. Or however much they cost. God damn, what is the deal with coffee these days anyway? I mean, I guess it's like booze where people want to drink it for the substance held within its liquid walls but they don't want to actually taste it. Thus we have every fucking combination of liqur that takes the taste out of liqur so that people can pretend they are drinking soda but are really getting drunk. Maybe thats the problem. Too much soda as kids. We don't like the taste of real drinks. So coffee and alcohol suffer. And you get old people as the last refuges of black coffee and straight scotch. Old people rock. I think its that it takes most people that long in life to figure out that the simplier things are the better. (since this parenthasis has gone on so long I'm going to remind you here that I was complaining about how I can't write anything anymore because I can't stay focused on anything (and I'd like to point out in this side-side-side note that this is a perfect case in point) and now we can get back to coffee) Which is to say that if you put all this crap in coffee and get charged a lot more are you really getting anything better? No, you just look cooler, which is why I was making this joke about myself and using my mac) I can't seem to get any work done and I stare at a blank screen. It's annyoing that I can spend so little effort and come out with insane amounts of writing on my blog. Because talking about yourself is always easier to do than talking about anything else, I guess. I don't really have to stay focused or anything.

Today has been another up and down day. It started out alright. Then it got a little better, then it got a little worse, then it got a lot worse, then I had to lie down for a while to calm myself down before I broke my keyboard in frustration, then I had a phone call that confused my sensibilities to a point that made me need to write about myself for a while just to have something to keep my attention for a while. That call. It could lead to something that could be good for me. And it could lead to my untimely death. Or it could lead somewhere inbetween. Or some fourth option. I should watch the Clerks Cartoon. I may have put it in a box, as I thought it would be smart of me to start packing stuff up to take back to fallon and I've yet to pack anything other than my DVD's and I don't have any boxes and I tried to get some boxes today and I couldn't find any in the frieghts behind the mall nor could I get any from the fucking supermarkets near my house and I thought about buying some big tupperware boxes to put all my books in, but they didn't have a price tag on them and I didn't want to spend too much and I thought I should go to Target but it was Saturday afternoon and I had just come from that side of town and this probably isn't very interesting, but damn it, it was just so frustrating at the time and I felt like sharing.

I hate this. This not knowing what to do with myself. I'm all fucking over the goddamn map. Not literally, although, now that I think of it, if it was a map of the US then yes, literally, although not really because the map only represents the US and so I'd be all over what the map was representing. Unless I was actually standing on a map. Which I'm not, and being all over it I could be, but that wouldn't be saying much, would it?

I don't even know what the fuck I'm talking about anymore. Oh yeah.

Fuck, I'm a mess right now.

I'll finish this later. Maybe.

Added Section

The other day I decided on a whim to drive up to Portland, OR and check it out. I wasn't a big fan, to tell you the truth. I suppose I could grow to like it, but as of this moment I'm wouldn't recommend it to anyone. Unless they really like it, then go for it. Of course, if you know you like it, then why are you asking me to tell you if you should live there or not? Honestly, sometimes I just don't understand you.

I've been back in Reno for about eight hours now and I've already watched two Die Hard movies. Yeah, I'm that awesome.

I will say that I really liked Powells Books in Portland. Fucking amazingly huge bookstore if you've never been there. There are somewhere around eight (I think) different colored rooms, each devoted to a different section of books, and each room is about as big as a regular sized bookstore. So yeah, that was really cool. I only bought three books because I thought I was going to go back but I didn't get back over there. But that is okay, I'm behind in my reading anyway. Probably something to do with all these Die Hard movies.

Recently it has come to my attention that I don't have any idea what I'm doing. When I got to Portland I realized that right now I'm without anchor and I have nothing to hold me in one place. And I've been getting really antsy and I hate being in the apartment for more than a couple hours at a time lately. I keep feeling like I'm missing out. It's sort of like reverse Agoraphobia (I had to look up how to spell Agoraphobia and I came across a website with some awesome tidbits of information, such as, did you know there is such a thing as Euphobia- Fear of hearing good news? or that there is a word for a fear of otters? It's Lutraphobia). Not that I'm afraid of not being in an unknown or dangerous place, as I guess would be the exact opposite, but rather that I'm just afraid that I'm wasting my life in a cramped apartment with nothing better to do than sit around smoking cigarettes and watching Die Hard movies. Not that I have any problem with such activities, its just that I feel like I could do something akin to that for the rest of my life and really never accomplish anything and that sort of bugs me. Sort of really bugs me.

I've been going up and down a lot emotionally. See before that last paragraph I was in a good mood. Now I'm sort of depressed. It's been like this all day. All month, really. Just really rapid mood swings. I'll probably be on an uphill slide (can you slide uphill? am I mixing up metaphors/cliches? do I care enough to try to figure it out?) again in a few minutes. Actually right now it may just be that I'm getting pretty damned tired. So I guess that this post has come to the end.