Books I've Read So Far This Year

Hello, faithful readers. I was perusing an old post of mine that mentioned books I had read in the year 2011. Well, since I know you're all just dying to know, here's a post with the books that I've read so far in 2012:

The Girl Who Played with Fire
Bossypants
11/22/63
Under the Dome
Mile 81 (short story)
The Deadline
Ender's Game
The Road
Pandora's Star - * currently reading

I read the first two books of Stieg Larsson's Millenium Series through our local library's e-book collection. I had reserved the third, but when it became available to me, I decided I wasn't really in the mood to find out what kind of pickled fish Lisbeth Salander or Mikael Blomkvist would have on their sandwiches or which convenience store Lisbeth would frequent to pick up her Billy's Pan Pizza. So I didn't check it out. Really, it's not that bad, but there are lots of occurrences of  this minutiae; not to mention the descriptions of all of the (now out-dated) APPLE computers that various characters use. Oh, did I mention that Blomkvist sits naked in bed with his APPLE computer (I can't remember if he actually does this, but it sounds like something he'd do)? That he smokes while accessing a folder on his APPLE computer? Or that Lisbeth hacks into everything with an APPLE computer? APPLE APPLE APPLE.

Stieg, baby. We get it. They use cool computers.

Anyway, I really don't have any hate for these books. Just some things I noticed. I do really want to finish the series so I again reserved the final book. I'll check it out this time, promise!

Bossypants was quite good. I love Tina Fey.

I then went on a Stephen King tear, reading two of his more recent novels and then a short story. I liked 11/22/63 better than Under the Dome. Under the Dome was pretty darn good throughout until the end. After I finished I felt pretty blah towards the book overall. Mile 81 is a little slice of horror where nothing but bad happens. Depressing? Of course. But well-done.

The Deadline was a "novel" (a very loose categorization) I read for my project management class that I took last semester. I count it only because it wasn't a textbook and I actually read the whole thing. That said, it was not very good as a novel. Don't read it unless you're a budding project manager (which I am not).

I read Ender's Game on a recommendation from a friend. It struck me as just okay. I'm sure that will incite rage in a lot of folks, but, to me, it was just okay. I wouldn't read it again.

Now, The Road, that was an awesome book. I loved it. As I was reading it, I kept drawing comparisons between it and one of my favorite video games, Fallout 3. Well, it turns out that the developers of Fallout 3 were inspired by the book and made it "required reading" while working on the game. Very cool.

Finally, I've been working on Pandora's Star for over a month. It's a ginormous epic space book that I picked up on another friend's recommendation. It's very interesting but it also has a LOT of extraneous details and descriptions. I can appreciate that, especially when you're talking about space travel and different planets and galaxies and all of the different lifeforms and environments that one would encounter within the book's universe. But it can be tough to slog through. I've been neglecting the book for a while so I need to put in some solid reading sessions.

And, before you ask, yes! I'm planning on finishing The Lord of the Rings! I promise! Shoot, I probably only have a hundred pages or so left! It's just criminal to not finish it. So I will. Don't worry.

Tecmo Time: Follow-up

 

 I Finished up my current season in Tecmo Super Bowl. The "version" of the game that I'm playing has been updated but you can tell how long it's been since I last played since all of the rosters are reflective of the 2010 season. Anyway, I played through the season with the New England Patriots and the Denver Broncos. These teams actually played each other twice in the season--once in the regular season and again in the AFC Championship. I briefly agonized over which team to play with, even flipping a bottle cap (too lazy to find a coin) to see which team I would use. Then I just decided to let ol' Tecmo decide for me. I let them play each other. Crazily enough (well, not that crazy, since Tom Brady was really just Steve Grogan in disguise and Kyle Orton is nonother than the hallowed John Elway), the Broncos won both times.

 Now, anyone who is familiar with Tecmo Super Bowl knows that playoff games often become much much more difficult than regular season ones. (I think we can all relate to the experiences had by a player named Arnold in this article.) Something that I have encountered, and maybe you have too, is that it seems that even the regular season games toward the end of the season tend to get more difficult. Receivers who were once wide-open are now blanketed, forcing your not-so-nimble quarterback to shamble down the sideline for a few precious yards. Holes that were once a mile wide are now mere inches and your once unstoppable running back is now stuffed after two or three yards.

 So, I was a wee bit nervous about going into the playoffs with my two teams. Denver won a hard-fought game against Seattle in a wild card match-up while New England got a bye. Oddly enough, the Denver v. Seattle game was the only really difficult game of the playoffs. Denver then beat up Houston, err, Tennessee in the Divisional round and New England handily defeated Buffalo. This set up the previously mentioned AFC Championship. Denver won and would play Philadelphia, led by Michael Vick (Randall Cunningham). I gave the birds quite a drubbing and basked in the Tecmo glory.

Tecmo Time: The Game that Shall Live Forever

Faithful readers, I met with a dear friend of mine this weekend. That friend is Tecmo Super Bowl. I previously regaled you with a brief remembrance of joyful childhood holidays at my grandparents house playing this game; sitting in the basement conjuring whatever black magic spell was needed to keep the wheezy Nintendo running and pumping this 8-bit wonder through the equally-taxed television. Those are days rich with dreams and untapped potential. If you could take a perennial punching bag like the Arizona Cardinals to the Super Bowl, you could easily become an astronaut heart surgeon cowboy.


I've had the game on my computer, accessible by an emulator, for a while. I go through spurts of playing and it's been a while since I last took a turn on it.

Well, I fired it up on Sunday and played a few games. Just like putting on an old pair of shoes or riding a bicycle or whatever you want to call it. Good times.

One of my favorite things to do is to start a season with one team and then, about halfway through the season, check to see what teams are languishing in last place; one sickly burp of the life support machine away from not making the playoffs. I'll pick one of those teams and see if I can will them through the rest of the season and on to Tecmo glory. To see that scene with your team, your coach lifted, and your players listed is one of life's grandest achievements.

Speaking of scenes, my cousins and I used to watch the intro to the game and scream out the players being showcased:

"Joe Montana!"


"Barry Sanders!"


"Lawrence Taylor!"


It was awesome. Back when there were no thoughts of brain-addling diseases debilitating our idols and not a drop of cynicism to be found in our minds. And every time I fire up that game, a little bit of that childhood magic comes back. Memories. Sweet sweet memories.

Holy Schnoodles

Yes, holy schnoodles, indeed. Fair and good readers, I am not Gurg. Gurg was something that probably should not have seen the light of day. He has traveled back to his home planet, never to return. I burned his green card and shredded his passport into his breakfast cereal. Bid him a farewell. Not a fond one, just a farewell.

Holy schnoodles, it has (again) been a long time since I've written anything. Here is what's shaking:

• It is very very very very very very very very hot here in Lincoln. It is also very very very very very very very very very very hot everywhere else.
• I attempted to hike up a 14,000 foot mountain (a 14er) in Colorado and I failed.
• Baseball is still here. Good God when will the season end and football begin? For all of my moaning about not wanting our future children to play football, I cannot freaking wait for the season to start. The allure of cooler weather and a wave of CTE-tinged pigskin matches is always something to look forward to. Am I a terrible person for saying this? Yes, I probably am.
• I am nearing the start of the last semester of my retread-college career. Let's hope that I don't see the need to go back to school again. Ever.
• And that's about it.

Greetings from Gurg

Greetings, you cretins of the high world. It is I, Gurg. I'm sitting in for Nate for a bit. He's suffering from a tough bout of post-nasal drip that I gave him last night. Not sure when he'll be back, maybe next time, maybe not. He choked out a few phelgm-soaked instructions before I passed him an ether-rag to sneeze into. Suffice to say, he's finally going to get some sleep! Oh, instructions! Yes, he mentioned something about greeting his faithful readers, so . . . uh, greetings. I hope you're not too put off by someone new writing on Nate's blog. Don't worry, I'm not going to change things . . . yet. No, no, things are going to stay the same . . . for a while. Nate's going to be back very soon. As soon as my Boss comes back to usher his chosen ones down to the warmth of paradise. Yup, let's just say, when the basement door opens, then Nate will be back.

Anywho, I suppose you want to know some things about me. Well, I went to a non-accredited bible college for a few years, just for kicks. Can you believe you actually have to pay to go to a place like that? Shoot, they don't even study the right bible. What's all this Genesis, Exodus, Philemon, Revelation business? And they put the wrong guy's words in red print! Wow. And then, they tried to get me to go out and sell all of these religious books and cookbooks. The recipes don't have any meat in them! Ugh. It was not a fun time. So I split when the stipend the Boss gave me ran out. Okay, confession: my time there wasn't "just for kicks". I was actually doing some research. But after the first few reports the Boss told me I could quit submitting them. He said he'd have no problems with those people. So I left.

Nate also mentioned (before he passed out) that his faithful readers may have some questions about a new "person" authoring his blog. Well, first of all, I'm not technically a "person". I mean, I'm in human form right now, but I guess that's neither here nor there. Okay, on to the questions. Usually, Nate has to wade through the large volume of comments this blog receives to see if there are any questions. It's really annoying because I've commented at least twelve times and he's never once answered me! Makes me kind of mad, actually. Anyway, I don't have to wait for the comments. I've got a special "gift" that allows me to answer reader's questions before they even have them! Away we go!

Where were you born?

-Olaf in Nantucket

Well, Olaf, I was born in the deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep South. Not the South you're thinking of, either.

How old are you?

-Brad in Denver

Brad, that's a very good question. Do you want a cumulative total or just how old I am in my current form? Oh, you want cumulative. Duh! Hmm, gotta think for a second . . . serpent's apprentice . . . pig on a cliff . . . pea soup intern . . . crow . . . carry the maccabees, add fourteen . . . crow . . . pitbull . . . crow . . . DMV worker . . . centurion . . . assistant football coach in Pennsylvania . . . author of young adult fiction (vampires, mostly) . . . postal worker . . . aaaannnnddd aspiring blogger. Okay, we've got 8,642 years. Give or take a few.

What have you done with Nate, really?

Ethel in Ann Arbor

Ethel! What do you mean, what have I done? Nate's fine! Well, his body is, anyway. His soul? Well, let's just say it's in a better place . . . between two pieces of sourdough under a slice of swiss cheese on my plate! Mmm, mmm, mmm. Nothing like a good soul sandwich. That's what keeps me running in peak condition. I'm like Mr. Fusion! Toss me a fat juicy soul and some leftover beer and I'm good to go for a few more miles.

What does a soul taste like?

Wingnut in Washington D.C.

Ever have a chicken quesadilla from Taco Bell? Like that.

Do you know where I can get some new boots? Preferably ones that are good for walking, dude.

Randall in EVERYWHERE

Oh, hey Randall. Been a while since I've chatted with you. Yeah, there's a place called Western Outfitters here in town that'll probably be able to outfit you with some nice boots.

Don't you have some work to do?

The Boss in [redacted]

Oh, hey, Boss! I'm on assignment, remember? Fiddle sticks! I know I know, my break's up. I was hungry and this guy gave me something to eat. I was pretty thirsty so he gave me a Diet Coke. I was a stranger but, gosh darn it, he still invited me in . . . And I ate his soul. Nice trade, eh?

All right, everyone. I gotta go. Nate'll be back tomorrow. I was just kidding about all that other stuff. Really. Now that I think about, you probably shouldn't mention any of this to him. He's gonna be all groggy anyway and it'll probably just confuse him. Best to just act like nothing happened. NOTHING!

HELL-O and goodbye. It's been fun. I wish all the worst for all of you.

Your pal,

Gurg

The Musings of a Mind Pimple

My faithful readers: hello. How is this beautiful, wretched earth treating you today? I hope that you are well. Please, eat a roast beef and cheddar doused in horsey sauce in remembrance of me. Hold hands and remember the good times. Why do I say these things? I don't know. Because I'm weird and I'm obviously trying too hard to write . . . something? Anything! Dear Christ, it's as if the creative juices my head holds are always bubbling and burbling beneath the surface of my skull but they dribble out like the grease of a sad sad pimple. Gross! I'll stop there. I need a crowbar to pry my mind open and loose the hounds of my demented mind!

Uh, yeah, Nate? It's called, I dunno, a work ethic? Consistency? Dedication to a craft? Drive? Motivation? A will to succeed? Yeah, any of those.


Damn it, Jim (who's Jim?)! I know these things! Obviously, I lack them. I am the embodiment of an entitled society. I expect these great works of my gross mind-pimple and the trappings associated with their success to just come to me! You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one (thanks, John)!

What? No! I am most certainly not on LSD or any other drug right now, aside from caffeine. I want to have a job that is easy and doesn't require a lot of thought (and really, who doesn't?). But, I also want to be paid a shit-ton of money for it! Sadly, a reality TV show producer isn't knocking down my door so there will be no Keeping Up With the Johnsons on E! this summer. Shame!

So, long story short, I've been trying to blog more. If, you happen to actually be one of my faithful readers, you will have come across this sentiment from me before. No, I don't really think blogging a bit more regularly will automatically make me a success. That would be asinine! And yet, there's that insidious part of my mind that thinks this crap will just happen. Kind of like when I was a kid and my dad hid a present, out of the blue, on top of our bookcase and then surprised me with it. It wasn't for any special occasion, it was just a present. Leonardo, the Ninja Turtle! Awesome! But, you know what happened? After that, I ALWAYS checked that bookcase looking for a present. I expected some god damned thing for nothing! All the time! And there was never something up there again. Why should there have been? It was just some random thing, a nice gift my dad got me. Was I grateful? I suppose, I enjoyed my toy. But I expected something after that when I didn't before.

I don't know that this event shaped my awful expectation philosophy, it was probably already there. Why? I don't know. But it persists. I was told at some point that I was a good writer. Or I had a modicum of talent that I should take advantage of. Or I got good grades on high school papers without trying. Or a seemingly unhinged teacher of an unhinged class (Religion. Score one for parochial schools!) told me I was a wonderful poet/writer. God. Some teachers are just good at blowing hot air and bullshit up kids' asses.

I suppose events like these helped form this devil spawn of entitlement in me. Oh, I may have a microscopic smudge of talent somewhere in my demented soul? I can do well without trying? Then . . .

Come to me, world of wonders and wealth. Come. We shall drink of the wine of delusion and deceit, thinking highly of ourselves and scoffing at others while cinching the trenchcoat of superiority tighter around our throats and laughing maniacally at the poor workers. Those who just don't know. Those who find success not by just being, but by spit and sweat. By bitter tears of work and sacrifice. The real people.

Well, screw you, Nate. Screw you and your idiocy. You are dazzled by the falsehoods of celebrities. And you are stupid.

I'm not sure what this post means, really. It's mostly just dribblings from my gross mind-pimple. A mark of an amateur, I'm sure, is writing almost exclusively about himself. Narcissist much? What better topic is there than one you know so much about? Keep trying, genius.

I will say this: I've always cared about writing. Yes, I'm lazy. But actually churning something out, anything (and this is most definitely anything and not Something of any worth), makes me feel better than I think any job could ever do.

English Major: Explained

I was perusing an old edition of the Deadspin Funbag that is managed by the eternally awesome Drew Magary and I came across this gem. The Funbag is where Drew answers email questions from readers. Being a fellow English major I can say this is the essence of the degree. A perfect synopsis in his answer to Old Gil's question:

Old Gil:

"So I'm getting to the point in my college career where I have to decide on a major. What subject can I major in that will be both easy and make me look good in the future? I don't want some bullshit Museum Studies degree, but at the same time I don't want to have to do any work. I also like money if that helps narrow things down. Any suggestions? And if you had to do it over, what would you have switched to?"

Drew's response:

"I was an English major, and I recommend it. When you're an English major, all you really have to do is read novels (or, in my case, skim them), then talk about them and write a few papers on them. You don't have to memorize anything. You don't have to do any fucking field research. You don't have to work with a fucking lab partner or something horrible like that. There are no quizzes (unless your professor is a dick). You can bullshit your way through things. And it's a major no one sneers at. Some teachers assign papers instead of ever giving some fucking blue book test. A lot of professors let us choose which one we wanted (we always chose doing a paper). Plus, you can claim to have read any number of great books, and know enough about them to make it sound like you're a smart asshole. I don't think I'd want to major in anything else. Sociology majors are retards.
The ten most lucrative majors, according to the New York Times, are almost all engineering majors. That shit is hard. I dunno if it's worth it.
(NOTE: The only thing that SUCKED about being an English major was the English Theory course I had to take junior year. It was horrible. The professor made us think, and do real work. YES YOU, MR. BRYANT! OR SHOULD I SAY MR. TYRANT?!)"

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