Bamf

1. The Complete Poems, Anne Sexton
2. On the Road, Jack Kerouac
3. High Fidelity, Nick Hornby
4. Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami
5. Sideways, Rex Pickett
6. The Shipping News, Annie Proulx
7. Le Morte D'Arthur, Sir Thomas Malory
8. Trainspotting, Irvine Welsh
9. The Sonnets, William Shakespeare
10. To The Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf
11. The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
12. A Thousand Years of Good Prayers, Yiyun Li
13. interpreter of maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri
14. The Neverending Story, Michael Ende
15. Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
16. Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami
17. Blink, Malcolm Gladwell
18. The Lexus and the Olive Tree, Thomas Friedman
19. The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell
20. the namesake, Jhumpa Lahiri
21. Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro
22. seven types of ambiguity, Eliot Perlman
23. Unhooked Generation, Jillian Straus
24. Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, John Perkins
25. The Fountainhead, Ayn Rand
26. This Book Will Save Your Life, A. M. Homes
27. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce
28. Youth in Revolt, C.D. Payne
29. jPod, Douglas Coupland
30. The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, Rainer Maria Rilke
31. History of the Peloponnesian War, Thucydides

Maybe it is time to give up on the Greeks. Glancing over my booklist for the year, it occurs to me (well, more like it's reinforced in my head): I'm an odd guy. I mean, what a weird collection of books. A week ago I had two roommates comment on my taste in music, one saying it was straight up weird (leading to a friendly discussion which ended with a defensive, "Just because I say it's weird doesn't mean it's bad, I'm not trying to insult you," to which I replied, "Then maybe you shouldn't call me weird."), and the other asking how I knew what to listen to. That I interpreted as a, "How do you find the bands you listen to?" question, but in retrospect she could have meant, "How do you pick something to listen to, based on all the random crap I've heard you listening to in the past?"

I Would Argue This If I Could Keep a Straight Face

You May Be a Bit Narcissistic...

Yeah, you're a bit fixated on yourself. But you're so great, you can't help it! You're a bit obsessed with your own fame and success. And you'll push past anyone who stands in your way.

What Personality Disorder Are You?

Book? What Book?

So my reading has tailed off considerably lately. Today I found myself with a couple hours to kill, so I plunked myself down in a Barnes and Noble. The result:

1. The Complete Poems, Anne Sexton
2. On the Road, Jack Kerouac
3. High Fidelity, Nick Hornby
4. Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami
5. Sideways, Rex Pickett
6. The Shipping News, Annie Proulx
7. Le Morte D'Arthur, Sir Thomas Malory
8. Trainspotting, Irvine Welsh
9. The Sonnets, William Shakespeare
10. To The Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf
11. The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
12. A Thousand Years of Good Prayers, Yiyun Li
13. interpreter of maladies, Jhumpa Lahiri
14. The Neverending Story, Michael Ende
15. Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
16. Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami
17. Blink, Malcolm Gladwell
18. The Lexus and the Olive Tree, Thomas Friedman
19. The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell
20. the namesake, Jhumpa Lahiri
21. Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro
22. seven types of ambiguity, Eliot Perlman
23. Unhooked Generation, Jillian Straus
24. Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, John Perkins
25. The Fountainhead, Ayn Rand
26. This Book Will Save Your Life, A. M. Homes
27. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, James Joyce
28. Youth in Revolt, C.D. Payne
29. jPod, Douglas Coupland
30. History of the Peloponnesian War, Thucydides

Not ready to give up on History of the Peloponnesian War just yet. jPod was ok, but kinda the same as Coupland's previous books. There's a couple pages in there that are pretty incredible, though, which contain the foul mouthings of a homocidal Ronald McDonald. I might get it just for those, or go take pictures of the pages. Actually, that last option sounds pretty good...

Still INFJin

About half a year ago I did a personality test and came out INFJ; apparently in the past 6 months I haven't changed much:

You Are An INFJ

The Protector You live your life with integrity, originality, vision, and creativity. Independent and stubborn, you rarely stray from your vision - no matter what it is. You are an excellent listener, with almost infinite patience. You have complex, deep feelings, and you take great care to express them. You would make a great photographer, alternative medicine guru, or teacher.

What's Your Personality Type?

I am So Indie

Caught this flick yesterday. It's a neat little documentary which I hesitate to recommend, based on some of the odd looks I've gotten when talking about Wordplay. But, if you're in the mood to get really angry and people, the government and industry, it can definitely manage all three.

What's interesting is that it really illustrates how American auto makers have not learned from mistakes made in the previous decades. American cars dominated the American marketplace until the oil shortages in the 70s, when imports (read: Japanese cars), which were more economical even though they didn't have to be, made huge gains in market share. Through the 80s and 90s this continued, until the American companies finally started to come back, rallying around the SUV. There's an interesting portion of the movie that notes that the day after GM bought the rights to the Hummer, they closed their electric car plant.

So anyways, US companies had a leg up with their electric cars, or EVs as they're referred to. In the early-mid 90s they were producing and leasing them to customers. This scared the crap out of the Japanese, who either hadn't gotten as far along or were unable to penetrate the US market with their electric hybrids, so they ramped up their research. Skip ahead a few years and the US companies kill their EVs, citing a lack of demand and a decision to shift to hydrogen fuel cell technology. Toyota releases the Prius which, surprise, surprise, sells like bananas.

That's right. B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

So now the Japanese car makers are, again, leaping ahead of their American counterparts, which are pushing hydrogen technology with no known mass production date, along with Hummers and other similar penile-compensating vehicles. What's the new thing the Japanese are working on? EV-hybrids, which you can plug into a normal outlet to charge (the original generation of EVs required a specific little charger thingie). And this time, the US can't even work the "Buy American" angle, what with the increasing number of US car plants outsourced and Japanese car plants being buit here.

So much, of course, depends on the consumer. I wish I could understand why people think Hummers are cool, I really do. Actually, I don't, because then I'd probably want to set my hair on fire and start punching myself in the face.

I Just Had to Share These

Your Love Number is 7

When you fall in love, you experience it to the fullest. You are a cheerful, joyful soul - and you attract people easily. While you fall for people quickly, you also fall out of love quickly. It takes a dynamic, exciting lover to keep your attention long term!

What Is Your Love Number?

And even better:

You Are Batman

Billionaire playboy by day. Saving the world by night. And you're not even a true superhero. Just someone with a lot of expensive toys!

What Superhero Are You?

Nananananananananananananananana BAT MAN!!

That reminds me, I've been meaning to pick up a copy of Dark Knight Returns, if only because that cover is one of the awesomest things ever, but also because it's been a while since I flicked through it and I remember it being pretty cool.

Try

I try
and try
to forget you
but you are (t)here.

I met a girl tonight.
Did I tell you that?
I met a girl
and it was fine
and it was good
and it was
and when I got home
it wasn't
because all I could think of
was you.
You don't mean it
I know you don't
I do it to myself
I do
me and no-one else.
Is that how the song goes?
Is it?
I forget.

I am here
in the dark
lit by a scream,
fumbling towards ecstasy
Adia?
Adia?
I thought that we could make it.
I know I've let you down.
I let myself down.
I do
I do it to myself.
Me and no-one else.
And it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, it's
Fine.

I'll be there soon.
I swear I will.

So, What's She Like?

Then, for the first time, I realized that nothing can be said about a woman; I noticed when they spoke about her, how much they left blank, how they named and described other people, surroundings, objects, up to a certain point where it all stopped, gently and as it were cautiously stopped at the light never-retraced outline that enclosed her. "What was she like?" I would ask then. "Blonde, more or less like you," they would say, and they would add all kinds of further details; but as they did, she would again grow quite indistinct, and I could no longer form her image in my mind.

Is it ever really possible to know someone? And even if it is, is it possible to describe someone to someone else?

Maybe it's me being neurotic, but I've always felt a mild panic at the words, "Well, what's she like?" I stutter, I stammer. I start describing physical attributes, but that just makes a mockery of the question. I say what she does, but that's only a very tiny part of who a person is. Inevitably trite, cliched observations emerge. Nice. Smart. Funny. If everyone was as nice, smart and funny as the people they start dating tell all their friends they are, the world would be a goddamn utopia.

More and more, I find that when I think of people, all I can summon are the impressions I have from hanging out with them; ephemeral, fleeting emotions or thoughts that I can't even define to myself, much less convey to others. Is that the answer to the question? Is it possible to know someone else when we spend our whole lives trying to figure out who we are? And if it isn't, and if we realize that, is it a bad thing? How much time and effort is wasted in a futile effort to know someone, how many times do we spend day after day after day in someone's company trying to become "closer" to that person when the effect is quite the opposite, increasing the levels of encroachment and resentment between the two people?

But then, what does that leave us? Isolated days, weeks, maybe even months with contact and then nothing inbetween? Is that enough? Is that right? Can people survive emotionally on that much/little emotional contact? I never want to need someone else to be happy, and yet, if I don't need someone, if I don't need something, what reason is there to be with anyone?