Reeds

One of the first books I read off the ship. How fitting.

The true crime would be to offer comment on Dostoevsky.

Fighting dragons during the Napoleonic era? I judged this book by its cover first.

On my to-read list.

Reading.

This is a terrible, twisted series that I liked.

Twenty-one is a magic number.

What a charming monstrosity.

Where the wild things are

I recall reading that book somewhere ages ago, and I recall nothing besides reading that book somewhere ages ago. Cue the trailer for the film. Arcade Fire’s Wake Up blew me away and suddenly I’m thoroughly excited about something I have only the faintest memory of. It’s strange, yes. So I downloaded the book (ten sentences?). And oh, Karen O’s doing the score. Never mind that tiresome rehash of another children’s classic. This is wild.

Heroes wear blue

Really, who doesn’t want to check this out? (A lot of people, I know, but I’m going to see it anyway). Read the Star’s review here.

Turturro is Fink

Barton Fink wants to write about the ‘common man’, yet is totally unable to appreciate the guy living next door. If that slice of irony didn’t work for you then Barton Fink won’t either.

Progress

I remember when blogs hit the web. Everyone was getting one. Blogs offered a fascinating glimpse into the shallow, narcissistic minds of millions of ordinary Joes who thought they had something to say. People ranted about their girlfriends (or lack thereof), talked about dinner parties, or put up the occasional cryptic emo post – and, gasp, people cared. It was gazing at the navel-gazers. I mean, I could understand the appeal. Right then and there I swore never to get a blog. A few months later I had my own blog.

I remember when social networks went through this amazing growth spurt. Friendster, Myspace, then Facebook. What shameless narcissism! I swore, and this time I swore to anyone who’d listen, that it’d be a cold day in hell before I signed up for one of those confounded things. It was a cold day in hell sometime last January.

And now how about this Twitter? How low can we go, really? Is the Internet set on dragging us down to the depths of depravity? At least blogs have content. At least social networks require some form of focus. No, I’ll never touch Twitter.

Never.

Ever.

Er.