YOG-SOTHOTH RULES

Well, I was going to reread Desperation by Stephen King, but my copy appears to have disappeared, which is a Thad Beaumont annoying, considering it's my favorite and all. (Get it? Thad Beaumont? Thad? Tad? Ohohoho. Comedy gold.) But I ended up rereading Needful Things, which is a close second, so it's all good. Unless I can't find my copy of Desperation ever, cause then I'm gonna be angry.
Needful Things is the 'last Castle Rock story' because EVERYTHING EXPLODES. But, it starts out with familiar setting of Castle Rock, with a new shop opening called 'Needful Things'. The shop has the greatest desires of each individual heart, for a relatively cheap... fiscal price. And an incredibly expensive different price, as well. Pretty soon chaos erupts and blah blah blah. Look, it's good!

First: There's a story Stephen King wrote that could be considered the introduction to this called 'The Sun Dog', which was the very first Stephen King thing I read after finishing this the first time. I don't remember the anthology it was in. (Four Past Midnight, maybe?)

Very early in the book, a character named Brian refers to some famous face as a 'stud-muffin'. HAHA. I'm sorry, it was too funny not to mention.

The dead baby (trust me, you'll get this if you read the book) is named Kelton. I--I was wondering where that name came from when I named a character in a story of mine that. I--I forgot. Jeez. That is one thing you don't want a name to be associated with... (Which is unfortunate, because it is a really cool name.)

If I recall, in the book that The Secret Window was based on, Thad often heard or thought he saw sparrows right before his alter ego or whatever it was (it's been two or three years since I've read it, so cut me some slack) would appear. Alan appears to occasionally view sparrows when anxiety about his dead wife overtakes him, and Entragian (or just Tak in general, I guess) seems to have a thing about birds: "My mind is full of blackbirds", or something like that because I haven't found my copy of Desperation yet. (pout) Anyways, what I'm trying to say is, birds recur a lot. Maybe they're Stephen King's version of favored symbolism? If that's the case, it's the kind of symbolism that doesn't suck, Nathaniel Hawthorne. Just sayin', is all.

You're probably wondering about the title, I guess. At one point a junky goes out to this (almost) abandoned shack, and someone (cough, Mr Gaunt, cough cough) has spray-painted it onto the wall. High five, Stephen King. For some reason, before I read this, I never thought, well, anyone else was a fan of HP Lovecraft (everyone knows Cthulhu the Internet sensation, but what about his creator? Poor Lovecraft) but it makes sense. Sooo because he actually knows who HP Lovecraft is and enough to make a reference to his lesser-known creation.... high five!?

"'I'm afraid I've got some bad news about your double-murder.' 'Oh, so all at once it's my double murder.'" I'm pretty sure I died laughing at this. Can't you just hear Alan Pangborn getting all haughty about that? Like a girl on a soap opera? Hehe.

Stephen King also seems to have a fixation on Simple Simon, too. I've read a few where Simple Simon is mentioned, the only other times that stands alone really is in this story... I think it's in Four Past Midnight as well... There's like this librarian, who's really this larval entity that feeds off children--I'm pretty sure that story was the reason why I got rid of that book. At one point they find the larval she-beast as what she really is, still looking somewhat human, but altogether inhuman, with these wizened wrinkles in her face that are somehow only 2-D and a proboscis. Ick. But Simple Simon is in there too, and like the reaction Alan has to the poster of him in Needful Things, whoever it is in that story sees it and is absolutely terrified. Huh. Curious.

Ah, the one sentence in this book that I absolutely hate: "State police cars and news vehicles were thrown end over end through the air like Corgi toys". For some reason, this really annoys me, and I'm not entirely sure why--maybe it feels to personal to me. Like, he's the omnipotent narrator, but he's suddenly being personal and you're aware that you're not getting the story from an omnipotent narrator, it's Stephen King. Or maybe that's just me. (In case you didn't know, he's referring to a Pembroke Welsh Corgi, a kind of dog. My favorite kind, actually. Cowboy Bebop fans, it's the kind of dog Ein is. As of the writing of Everything's Eventual, he still had one--there's a picture of him and it in the back flap of the hardcover copy of Desperation.) But whatever it is, it just really bothers me.

The first time I read the ending with Alan Pangborn and such I absolutely hated it. However, every time I reread it (I think this #3) I like it more. It grows on you.

Okay, so I didn't really do much deep review and react to this, but cut me some slack, here. The book is good, and it's more than a cheap thrill. It's kind of like a mystery, except where you basically know the answers beforehand (unless this is your first Stephen King book, and even then, you'll probably pick it up pretty quickly). Dramatic irony! Delicious! (It's what killed Romeo and Juliet!) It looks large and threatening but it's about 500 pages shorter than It and reads about 500 times faster. It's gory, but not as nasty as Desperation, not by a long shot. Of course, it's got some awkwardly sexual moments, but again, not as bad as the scene in the junkyard in It. I wouldn't really call it horror or a thriller, either. It's not really scary, and I wasn't terrified after reading it. ('Salem's Lot, anyone?)

Anyways, over the past four days I also finished Everything's Eventual, Slaughterhouse-Five, and Invisible Monsters, and I've begun to reread The Dharma Bums. But, since I've just come back from Maine (from right next door to Bangor, actually) I feel it appropriate to respond to Everything's Eventual now and save the other two for tomorrow or something.

Everything's Eventual is a collection of fourteen of Stephen King's short...er stories. I quite enjoy it, and you can tell. My softcover Stephen King books always look like they've had the crap beaten out of them, and this is definitely the worst of the lot. Though soft covers bother me, the fact that it's only $7.99 is quite an amazing deal. (While in Maine I came upon a new copy in a bookstore and almost died--I forgot my copy had ever looked quite so not like a car ran over it.) I mean, the hardcover is probably like... $26? Damn. Anyways. Shall we continue?

Autopsy Room Four: The first story. It's half based off an old Hitchcock show and half King's life. It turns on the simple panic, and inadvertently makes you hate The Rolling Stones a little. It's a good one to read, but it's hardly meaty. One thing I wonder is that a note at the end, King mentions he dated Katie Arlen for four months from November 94-February 95. Uh... Wasn't he married?

The Man in the Black Suit: Favorite. Most def, my favorite. The ambiguous (kind of) ending scares me. Basically, an old man is recounting a memory of his early childhood, hardly yet ten or so, and it's a normal day of fishing for him... Until he meets the Devil in forest. Okay, I made it sound melodramatic, but it gives me the shivers. I think makes my skin crawl is more accurate actually, especially if you have a mind like me and it runs away before you can stop it at the end. In the note afterwards King says 'Young Goodman Brown' by Nathaniel Hawthorne is his favorite of Hawthorne's, and he wrote this story as a homage to it. THIS IS WAY BETTER! 'Young Goodman Brown' could have been amazing, but Hawthorne ended with the 'it was just a dream' ending. Screw you, Hawthorne.

All That You Love Will Be Carried Away: : ( That is the best way to sum up my reaction. It makes me sad. Which is no doubt what King intended. On a side note, I would like to try and find those graffiti websites... (Of course, I spent the entire trip mentally noting graffiti I saw)

The Death of Jack Hamilton: Effk this story. You lose, Stephen King, you stole fizzy lifting drinks! You bumped into the ceiling which now has to be washed and sterilized, so you get nothing! You lose! Good day, sir!

In the Deathroom: It's not really my style at all, but I can't see any faults. A guy gets the crap interrogated out of him.

The Little Sisters of Eluria: Again, it's not really my style--I never really got interested enough in the Dark Tower series to bother with it, but because it's a sort of prelude to the series, I even knew what was going on, which was nice. I enjoyed reading it, and although it didn't spark an interest in the rest of the series, I can dig it. In the intro, King mentions The Talisman, a book of his which I guess semi-intertwines with that series as well. (Should I really be surprised?) That was a pretty good book.

Everything's Eventual: Awesome, awesome, awesome! (Fun fact: Sankofite is someone's user name on Xanga! Really! Google it!) This one is a bait-and-switch, or whatever the proper english term would be. You spent 2/3s of the story smiling and nodding with the main character, because of course you bond with your narrator and then you gt slapped. Oh, oh right! You're killing people! Boy is my face red. Anyways:
There's a reference to the 'shining' in this one! Well, I think it is. And, according to Wikipedia, there's a Dark Tower reference.

LT's Theory of Pets: I didn't really get this one the first few times through, but when I read it and it finally hit me I sat down and cried. Not a heavy cry, but you know, an oh god! sort of deal. That slaps you in the face at the end, too. I can imagine not many people being fond of this one, but I thought it was pretty okay.

The Road Virus Heads North: This is a story that scares me, too. I avoid reading this one before I walk Dante for the night, if possible. Man. Man. It's good, it's scary good, and this is the one you want to tell if you want to give someone the shivers. And while I'm in my creepy basement with the garage door I'd rather not think about it thank you. I'd say you weaker-stomached folk may want to avoid it, but scary is different for different people. But don't say I didn't warn you.

Lunch at the Gotham Cafe: The maitre d makes me think of the crazy chef in Ctrl-Alt-Del (the webcomic) so I find it hard to be scared of him. The soon to be ex husband makes me nervous--at the end, you just know there's going to be an unpretty sequel which only your imagination can carry away, if your mind is like mine and runs away with it at first ambiguous chance.
I don't get the 'snooti' joke. Someone please explain?
Oh god, just seeing that end typed out makes me nervous. You just know what'll happen next.
Oh, and you should be warned: This is the violent and gory one of the book. Very much so.

That Feeling, You Can Only Say What It Is in French: This is good, but it makes you want to claw your scalp off. Not only because of the freaky imagery, but because it's so repetitive (and I mean that in a good way, if you can believe that) and the very way it's designed just drives you nuts.

1408: I didn't see this movie, and I can't imagine how well this movie could possibly be. Does it have the same unsettling nature? I guess it would rely more on shocks and freaky stuff like that. Hmm, Joe gave it a 7/10. One of these days I'll get around to watching it, then, I guess, but not in this millenia. Well, I read a brief overview of the movie and I'm already hating the changes, haha.
But! I digress: It's a top here. It's also a mindeff in textual form, and some lines have stayed in my head and will pop up unexpectedly and give me the cold sweats. For example, today, when we crossed back into CT the line "My brother was actually eaten by wolves on the Connecticut Turnpike" popped into my head. Yikes. Stephen King's got a penchant for writing crazy people, definitely.
(Then again, maybe I will see the movie. Cusack in a Hawaiin shirt! Yes.)

Riding the Bullet: "Fun is fun and done is done." Maybe the best thing ever to take from a Stephen King story.
This is your basic campfire story. (I think King actually describes it as that in the intro) But, I'm sure you've heard the scary story of a man running into a ghoulie or ghostie or long-legged beastie and having to pretend everything's normal or else he gets scarfed. Or something worse. In this case, it's a dead man picking up a hitchhiker. (Trust me, I didn't ruin anything.) I liked this one because it actually has... well, at the risk of sounding like the loser 40-year-old english teacher who you know will never get married because she's such a damned loser... a 'message'. Or, at least, something worth taking away. I'm not sure if 'tender' is the best way to describe it, maybe 'deep', or something. But altogether, it really has a different flavor, and I like it.
The very last page, those bottommost two paragraphs (if you have the softcover, who knows what it's like in the hardcover) is the best example of that.... Oh, hell. If you read it, don't complain to me about a spoiler.
"'Why did you even bother? What was the goddamn point?' Still no answer, and why would there be? You wait in line, that's all. You wait in line beneath the moon and make your wishes by its infected light. You wait in line and listen to them screaming--they pay to be terrified, and on the Bullet they always get their money's worth. Maybe when it's your turn you ride; maybe you run. Either way it comes to the same, I think. There ought to be more to it, but there's really not--fun is fun and done is done. Take your button and get out of here."
It's better in the book.

Luckey Quarter: This story always makes me feel bad for hotel/motel cleaning ladies. Of course, in Maine, it was practically the exact same, down to the card's contents. You know, except for names and area and stuff, but the main things. So, I stuck an extra five in the card along with the two Jenna's mom stuck in. I don't know if that comes out to a good tip, but I hope so. Anyways. The wistful sad and dead end feeling--fantasy vs. reality... well. I don't know. It's another story that's not really meaty, but enjoyable.

Man, fun fact! This is my third day adding to this post! (Really!)

Fun Fact 2: We stopped in Salem on the way up and walked into an awesome bookstore. Observe: There's another picture too... I don't know how to rotate pictures on blogger, but enjoy it either way:
Hey, if you look closely there's a copy of Desperation! (Now I'm just being mocked here...)
Actually, you probably can't see it on so small a print. But still. They actually had a copy of The Regulators there, which is 'Richard Bachmann's' partner to Desperation. It's the only time I've ever seen the copy in my life, and I'm kicking myself for not getting it. But at the same time, look at all those books stacked up. Both copies were stacked under other Stephen King hardcovers. You know... It. Dreamcatcher. 'Salem's Lot (Crap, I should've bought that too. Dammit). Rose Madder. What I'm trying to say, if I had been fool enough to go after either copies, even the one that was only under four books, everyone would have died. Which is a shame, though I guess I never thought to look under 'Richard Bachmann' anywhere except at the library. (No dice, of course, but there was one that Stephen King had written the forward to, ha-ha.) But, I saw Thinner finally printed under his name, so... (I love the fact that in it the main character thinks his situation is like "something out of a Stephen King novel". That sort of thing just won't be the same.) Actually, my copy is "Stephen King writing as Richard Bachmann" so it must have been printed after Desperation at least, but it looks too... actually, that's still like 13 or so years, right? I guess it makes sense then. (Maybe I should just check the date in the book, huh?) I guess I'll be rereading Thinner next then.... anything to put off reading Wuthering Heights....
As for the store itself, I bought Big Sur there and it has the address of the place on a bookmark tucked inside. I'll give it to you when I finish that, alright? It really is a cool place, just... just be very careful. Tiptoe past the leaning tower of hardcover Stephen King or god help you. Be careful around the Crichton books, too. And James Patterson. Not because there's a stack of his books that will fall and kill you, he just sucks.

Anyways, remember that copy of War and Peace I so love? I finally took pictures: they don't really do the great quality justice, but still.
Look at that! Gorgeous. (That's my KNEE, Emma. Geez.) And, a pretty junky picture of the gold page protectors:
Awesome. It's no original or old copy, but the fact that there was actual work put into this book's quality is nice. I think even if I hated it, I would have kept it, just because.

Whooo. God, I'm glad I finally finished this thing. Now, to The Office!

You're face to face with the man who sold the world

I just got back from wandering around North Haven--Did you know EB games doesn't take DVDs anymore? What the hell, man. And Barnes and Noble e-mails that say there are sales are lies. LIES.

Anyway, I finished Doctor Zhivago too. I decided not to write about it for my school project, though it would be sublimely easy: You're supposed to write about how the main character changes. In the beginning, he's nine years old. In the end (spoiler!) he's dead. But! It was a pretty good book. Like I said, Pasternak is a very eloquent fellow, and can make even arbitrary things sound and seem quite majestic and beautiful.

One thing that always surprised me a little is how the underclasses are referred to as peasants, even into the 1930's. The word brings an image of Medieval beggars, and very easily it's my imagery to fault, but it's so strange that even in a 'modern' age they should still be known as peasants, and still living in villages that, to description, sound very much like Medieval villages. Odd.

"'Rome was a flea market of borrowed gods and conquered peoples, a bargain basement on two floors, earth and heaven, a mass of filth convoluted in a triple knot as in an intestinal obstruction.'" Oh snap! Rome got served! I just picked this because Rome is considered the 'ideal' civilization and not only was it hit pretty hard on the head... well, look, that's actually a pretty good unromantic view of Rome. Really. And, I guess eloquence doesn't always mean beautiful. For the record.

"All the strong are dominated by the weak and ignoble."

Man, I can never read books about the military again. There's a long section where a general is trying to get his troops, you know, pumped by giving this long speech about how great the country is and how you must fight for it, even if you're your parents' only child. And all I could think of were lines from Catch-22 criticizing war, and patriotism. In Language and Comp we learned about logical fallacies--one of which was 'flag-waving' or using patriotism so your target group will agree with you. And, you know what? Not to belittle anything or offend anyone, but it is a logical fallacy. Really, it doesn't make any sense. "'What is a country?'" Huh, I wish I could include the whole quote, but it appears Wikiquote sucks. Just--just pay attention to the Sacrilegious Old Man when you get to him.

"'And about that deaf-mute, we're fed up hearing about him. Everybody goes on and on about the deaf-mute. And what have you got against him? Just that he was dumb all that time and then he suddenly started to talk and didn't ask your permission? As if that were so marvelous!'" I am not sure why I should favor so this passage.

"...an unshared happiness is not happiness..." I believe it was in Doctor Zhivago Christopher Johnson McCandless wrote this, and I guess it must have been around here. Maybe not, but I'd expect it to be in affirmation: "HAPPINESS ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED".

"Everyday life struggled on, by force of habit, limping and shuffling." There's something about that "by force of habit" I like. This bit works well on its own, and also if you continue the quote around the whole paragraph-- "Everyday life struggled on, by force of habit, limping and shuffling. But the doctor saw life as it was. It was clear to him that it was under sentence. He looked upon himself and his milieu as doomed. Ordeals were ahead, perhaps death. Their days were counted and running out before his eyes." I--I'm morid, a--aren't I?

"'It has something of Pushkin's uncompromising clarity and Tolstoy's unwavering faithfulness to the facts.'" Both Russian authors, obviously. I've never read Pushkin, but I find it kind of funny that Tolstoy should be described in such a way--War and Peace, at the time of its publication (I don't know if it still is, though, I only read reviews that were printed the same year of its publication) was criticized heavily for unfaithfulness to facts, and that Tolstoy was making up his own facts for "his conveniance" and the story's conveniance. A criticism that stands out is the fact that Napoleon randomly spoke Russian and then would go back to French. I mean, there was more, it was a long review, but that's the biggest point. I remember being like "Well, duh, it's a Russian novel..." but, you know. Maybe this is sarcasm here, but I don't know Pushkin, so I can't be sure.

"Near him, touching him, were hell, dissolution, corruption, death, and equally near him were the spring and Mary Magdalene and life. And it was time to awake. Time to wake up and get up. Time to arise, time for the resurrection."

"'Look at all these stations. The trees aren't cut, the fences are intact. And these markets! These women! Think how wonderful! Somewhere life is still going on, some people are happy. Not everyone is wretched. This justifies everything.'" Nothing is universal. Not everywhere is wretched, no matter how wretched one place may be. Vice versa, no matter how pleasant and wonderful one place is, there is a wretched and raggedy counterpart.

"But was this the way to win back lost love? For that you had to move mountains!" This was noted because of the fact that it reminded me of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. Just the way the sentences are structured reminded me of each other--Because the interenet hates me, I shall paraphrase. "But even the X could not create a woman from clay. For that, you needed a rib." I like the sentence itself, but I like this one too, and paired together, I am quite enamored.

Okay, so background on the next one: Zhivago sees his love for the first time in quite a while, and they are quite unfamiliar to each other: "This was the only form of intimacy that still remained between them. And how distant, cold, and compellingly attractive was this women to whom he had sacrificed all he had, whom he had preferred to everything, and comparision with whom everything seemed to him worthless!" --->"Once you have loved someone this much
you doubt it could fade despite how much you'd like it too" (Fade Together, Franz Ferdinand) Well, for the record, they do suddenly fall back into each other's arms briefly. But I guess it's shocking, seeing someone so dear and beloved suddenly so distant. I hardly ever wonder about old friends in that manner, and I... I don't really have an old boyfriend to wonder that about. But. That commentary--it just grabbed me.

"'It isn't just that I don't love him--I despise him.' 'Can you know yourself as well as that? Human nature, and particularly woman's '"[HAHAHA!] "'is so mysterious and so full of contradictions. Perhaps there is something in your loathing that keeps you in subjection to him more than any man whom you love of your own free will, without compulsion.'" I am under the deepest belief that hate really is quite similar to love, a different type of love under a different name. Because really, say you have made an enemy of a classmate: you are constantly on the lookout for them, and when you see them, your heart skips a beat, you get excited and emotional. You react strongly upon seeing them. If the hate is deep enough, you are constantly talking about them, even if it's in ill terms--it is still constant. If it's deep enough, you are constantly thinking of them and such. And... oh man. I just totally lost my train of thought. Oh, damn. Well, my point was going to be--I think--that that's very similar to affection, right? And as lost as you are when you lose a significant other or some such, that's how someone losing an enemy must feel--why do you think people are so slow to apologize? They'd like to hold onto their object of hate, to the point of needing as desperately as a lonely person clings to love.

"'Just like something out of Jules Verne.'" Uh, so, how's about being my best friend? Any name-dropper of Jules Verne is a friend of mine!

All right, up next is the end, which is one of the most detached upsetting endings I've ever read:
"One day Larisa Feodorovna went out and did not come back. She must have been arrested in the street at that time. She vanished without a trace and probably died somewhere, forgotten as a nameless number on a list that afterwards got mislaid, in one of the innumerable mixed or women's concentration camps in the north."

...

So, I skipped the poetry at the end. So it's possible I've missed some major messages or something deep, but I've never had it much for poetry. I just don't really understand it. I mean, sometimes things jump out at me, but most of the time I just don't have a head for it. I wouldn't know if it was any good or not had I been interested enough to read it, in any case.

Anyways, the book itself: It's an enjoyable book. I can't imagine carrying it around and it meaning as much to be me as it did to Christopher Johnson McCandless, but it's certainly a book I would be proud to have on my self. I'm not quite sure if it would go in my classics shelf (which technically doesn't even exist at the moment) but it would certainly have a place on my bookshelf.

Take that look from off your face, you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

I finished War and Peace! I was unexpectedly called into work and I finished it. The first epilogue was pretty okay, like I said, I have a natural predisposition to not be too enamored with them. The second epilogue early again called forth an echo of the boy and the apple, only in this case it disproved all ponderers--it was three men's different answers for how a train moved, and how they are surely wrong, but how all three lead to what the actual answer is. For example, a peasant says the devil, another man says it is the movement of the wheels, and a third says it is the smoke. The three men realize they cannot be right, and all eventually come to the conclusion that it is the sum of the parts that keeps the iron beast moving. The second epilogue is more just Tolstoy Tolstoy Tolstoy, but I quite like him. Later he questions free will and such... That laws make it impossible for free will. Laws make the man's will bend under them and follow the law's will. And maybe man only has the illusion of free will. And that may be so, but if that's the case, I believe that there are a few... well, puppet-masters. You see, we had a discussion about this in psych. And I argued against free will because of Charles Manson. Those girls were his pawns, they were the zealots licking his boots. They committed murder for him--they killed a pregnant woman, baby and all, and spit in her face when she begged them to at least spare the baby.
But, if Manson had no free will either, how could he control? Charisma? Some sort of animal alpha-dog instinct? Follow the leader? Everyone else is controlled by the wants of a few? (objectivism?) Oh hell, I dunno.
Anyways, the book. If you're interested in French or Russian history (I have the good luck to be fond of both) you're sure to enjoy it, or at least be interested enough to press on. Before writing, it might help to have a base knowledge--but it can be really, really base. Like oh look at me name-dropping Horrible Histories. I liked the book more than I thought I would, mostly because The Brothers K made me a little leery of Russian literature. But I think I'll take out Anna Karenina for my summer reading. Or maybe Doctor Zhivago... Because of Into the Wild... Uh. Anyway. The book's really quite wonderful, it's easy to read and follow, and it reads much quicker than you'd think, too. Really. I'd read 200 pages at work and be like what the... am I on page 770 already? So. So yeah....

At the moment, I feel the need to write about, well, something different.
We happened to be looking through the old albums because my mom thought I had her mother's eyes--and while she flipped through the thing... well, first off, it was a little strange, well, one thing: my mom's grandmother she named me after had a brother named 'Tomasso'. But I couldn't help but crying, mostly to myself, I really was blinking back tears--most of these people are gone. All of these people will be gone. I was crying for people I had never met and may never meet (I don't know how I feel about the afterlife) because I felt someone has to--and maybe not even that. I was crying for that these people weren't eternal, their ways of life weren't eternal, they're mortals in a mortal world and maybe I was deep down being selfish and just crying for myself knowing that it all leads to "the same punchline". What really shook me up were the pictures of the uncles--especially Uncle Louie. Now, I was really little when he died--probably only four or five--but I still remember him and talking to him. But, I mean, he had to have been what--90? 80? He was one of the younger kids, but that had been in 1910. Maybe even earlier. But still. He was an ancient guy. There happened to be a picture of him from maybe when he was--30? Younger? He looked like James Dean, I'm not even kidding you. Like James Dean happened to be in the area and was like "You know what? I'm just gonna kneel down in that field and pick some beans". But, I mean, besides being stricken by how handsome Uncle Louie had once looked--I mean, I'm young. Younger than that, but someday I'll be that old. (Young?) Depending on when that picture was actually taken, my brother may already be that age. This won't last forever. "This, too, shall pass." And it scares me, deep down, that this can turn to that, and then that's gone. And the other uncles too, and all. And I finally got the gumption to ask my mom about--well, when I was little I basically lived at the farm, and there was a worker guy there and I remember being fond of him. I didn't have a crush on him or anything, but I thought he was funny and he was nice to me. And I've been scared to ask my mom about him--I get weird about stuff like that. Like, I'd like to know more about her father, but I'm scared to ask about him because I don't know what to call him--I don't feel comfortable saying "your dad" or "grandpa" because I didn't ever know him, but it doesn't feel right or respectful to call him Charles or Charlie. (I love that name) And, for some reason, when I asked about this worker guy, I started crying. My mom thought maybe he had done something bad to me as a child and that's not true at all, it's just... maybe I'm as scared of the past as I am of the future. Maybe my disdain for it and talking about the past is because I'm that scared. I don't know, I don't know, a million times, I don't know. Why would I cry? Maybe I was scared he had died? Well, either way, he hadn't. His name was Henry. Henry... I was thinking about it while I was waiting for the computer to boot up, and I was like, Duh. Henry. Of course! And now that I remember it, I remember people talking to him, I even remember saying his name before. I think it fits him. He reminded me of a lion, because his hair stuck out wildly like my Simba doll. I hear he lives in NY now.

I had a dream I got my class schedule and I didn't get into Rebels Without a Cause and I couldn't switch into either of the classes. You think your nightmares are so great. The best part is, no matter how stupid I think my absolute horror and fear is in the dream, cause something I'm scared of say, a tank full of sand and the idea of two scorpions in there procreating (I had a dream like this before. At one point in the dream I was so upset I collapsed in hysterical crying into my brother's friend's arms) but it's always to the extreme. I am 100% freaking the hell out. In my dream I was practically having a panic attack. But I really want that class! haha. Anyways, after I had that dream I woke up at nine and thinking I wouldn't be working I fell back asleep and had a dream that I was visiting a huge mansion that my uncle just happened to own... (I've had dreams set in it before, I remembered that because one of the doors opened to a huge creepy crawlspace that was almost like a huge open dank dungeon. With a poster of Dexter? Which was new.) but there was a girl there who had been bitchy to me for a few nights, then like the third night, she died mysteriously in her sleep. She didn't want to be dead, and apparently the grim reaper was having trouble getting in through the window (you guys laughed when I painted the house with lamb's blood!) and she didn't know what to do so she (she's a ghost at this point) ran to my room to hide/ask me to help protect her. So for two thirds of the dream I was like no, just go, you deserve to die, it won't be that bad, etc, cause I was still angry at her for whatever, but then the reaper almost grabbed hr wrist and she started to scream and I was like oh good god! What was I thinking? She doesn't deserve to die! And I kind of shielded her with my body (She had been knocked onto the ground) and I tried to take a swing at him which dur hur hur duhhh didn't work, and the second swing I tried to go for the sickle, which touching it probably would have killed me, but my mom woke me up right before I grabbed it.

Wheee. Going for a walk.

Come gather round people, wherever you roam...

OH MY GOODNESS I FINISHED WAR AND PEACE. Well... I finished the actual War and Peace part--I still have two epilogues to fight through. I'm about eleven chapters (the last 150 pages are the two epilogues! What the--what the hell, man!?) into it. The first two or three chapters are more Tolstoy's own observations and impressions than actually being about Pierre or some such, like that little bit about the boy and the scientist and the apple. Only much longer. But, actually, I am quite fond of Tolstoy's mindset and instead of being like OH GOD I HATE EPILOGUES like I usually do (the end's the end, folks) I am quite enjoying it. I was pleased with the 'end' as well. Despite how little I thought I'd like Pierre in the beginning, I've grown quite fond of the little fellow (but he's no Mr Darcy!).
And, near the end, there was a little passage which could be taken as a spoiler, so if you're planning on reading this, I guess skip this quote and my explanation.
"Pierre's insanity consisted in not waiting, as he used to do, to discover personal attributes which he termed 'good qualities' in people before loving them; his heart was now overflowing with love, and by loving people without cause he discovered indubitable causes for loving them."
Anyone guessed why I was drawn to that? Hint: I'm a Kurt Vonnegut fan, remember? God Bless You, Mr Rosewater. See, the basis of that book is that Elliot (Mr Rosewater) is thought to be quite mad because he loves all people--even the people persecuting him--and loves nothing more than to do whatever he can to help them. He says that when someone says "God bless you, Mr Rosewater" to him is the greatest payment and makes him the happiest. So an attribute like that--one that gods and holy men are revered for possessing--apparently cannot translate into this world--not even 200 some odd years ago. (Then again, was it ever? Jesus was crucified. Maybe Elliot was intended to be a sort of modern version of that? A little?)

Okay, spoiler has ended!
Anyways, I marked a page with a quote--a double entendre, kind of. I thought it was hilarious when I read it, and at the risk of looking like I'm twelve I include it: "The French, collecting booty, cared only for gold." HAHAHA. I mean, I'm sure Tolstoy didn't mean it like that, but...
*Ahem* So I'm thinking of taking out Anna Karenina next and disregarding all those books that have just been piling up...
Definitely I like him more than Dostoevsky.
As for what's next? Well, the library is closed on Sundays (I think) so I guess I'll read another book from Meg, or take a break with something shorter... Uh. I'll do Of Mice and Men next.

We live on front porches and swing life away

I'm about 5/7ths through War and Peace! I doubt I'll finish it as soon as I expected, being that it's already Thursday, but it's really picking up now so maybe I will somehow finish it by (when am I working next?) next Thursday. Maybe even sooner. I just thought I'd mention--before reading this book, you may want to brush up on your history. The war in question is Napoleon's (ooh, spoilers!) failed Russian campaign. I sort of remembered it--well, I remembered that he got his butt whupped. Fun fact, so did Hitler. Anyways, about 250 pages ago (I read a lot today!) I had to go back to my world history notebook from freshman year. Just for quick refreshing--I also grabbed a Horrible Histories book for supplementary use as well. Anyways, that's beside the point. The point is, this whole book I've been seeing quotes I sort of like, but since this copy is so gorgeous, I've been not too keen on marking it up, you know? So I've been resisting sticking my little stubs of paper in the book and hoping WikiQuote can cover for me--but today, I had to. I found a section which--well, it may mean nothing to you. Sometimes that's the way. Actually, mostly always. But I have to inscribe it even though it will take 40 years because I love you oh so much:
"A king is history's slave."
Okay, I forgot about the short one--but here's the long one:
"When an apple ripens and falls, why does it fall? Because of the attraction the earth, because its stalk withers, because it is dried by the sun, because it grows heavier, because the wind shakes it, or because the boy standing below wants to eat it? Nothing is the cause. All this only the coincidence of conditions in which all vital organic and elemental events occur. And the botanist who finds that the apple falls because the cellular tissues decay and so forth, is equally right with the child who stands under the tree and says the apple fell because he wanted to eat it and prayed for it."
Tolstoy was using this all to prove a point about Napoleon--but it's a tasty little morsel in any case. Who's to say who's right and wrong? Both can be right. What's the difference between science and godliness? Really, depending on who it's affecting, they're interchangeable. The man splicing genes to create a new line of rodents is god to those mice. Et cetera. But, aren't they the same? Or aren't they not? It's really a matter of your own opinion. Anyways. The quote itself makes me think of The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury. When the men are studying martian history--I kind of want to say it's the exploration with Spender. (Or was his name Spencer? I can't remember exactly now.) But I'm pretty sure it happened when the Captain confronted Spender/Spencer. Spender/Spencer is telling the Captain about the Martian culture--how their religion and science intertwined, so they could peacefully coexist--so they were really one and the same. In this case, it's kind of like that--the biologist may say what he believes, and the boy may say what he believes--there is equal proof for both. Perhaps the tissues just did die and so it fell. Perhaps because the boy prayed they rotted and God had it fall. Perhaps I'm just throwing my weight around here. Either way, it struck a chord and I did mark the page--with a bit of plastic bag, no less. Look, I was at work! What else was I gonna use, a zucchini!?

And, remember when I was talking about Job? Well, I was cleaning out my closet and I came across a book this girl Mary I used to be friends with gave to me a million years ago for my birthday. It's an illustrated bible, not quite for children, but not nearly of the Bible's actual reading level. And I was kind of like huh... this is sort of stupid. But for whatever reason, I decided to open it, and I happened to open upon the story of Job. Turns out, he was a rich man, and Satan (somehow) got into conversation with God (I wish they had more details on this part. It's not like they had AIM back then) and accused Job of only loving God because Job was rich. So God worked his ways and made Job poor. And he still loved God. So this turned into Satan being like "Oh yeah, well I bet he won't love you if you make him sick." So God covers the poor guy with welts or leprosy, or something nasty like that. But Job still loves him, and Satan's pissed because he's been proven wrong twice. And I didn't really read the end, to be honest, because I was impressed with Job. I would be boiling mad. Like, what the hell, man!? Well, maybe the not being rich thing not so much--but being covered in nasty diseases? After all those sacrifices? I see how it is. Then, of course for turning my back on God, I would be smote like hell, but at that point I'd probably welcome it, being covered in all sorts of terrible things I don't like thinking about.

Aaaand at work I was thinking--I know--the notion that Eve bit the apple desperate for change or to purposefully destroy paradise is a popular one. And by popular, I've maybe read it four or fives times but quiet the adults are talking sweetie. But maybe that's the only way we can think of it--that eternal happiness and leisure (I always had the assumption that Adam had to care for the animals at least partially, but I guess not) as being boring because of the fall. In Paradise Lost it's often alluded to that people can only perceive some things a certain way after the fall, and the same goes for before (but that's because Adam and Eve had yet to partake in the forbidden fruit). But it's a key point that the forbidden fruit completely wrecks how people can perceive things--senses are deadened, God can no longer be viewed directly, Satan's tongue is that much sweeter, etc. So maybe our views--and my agreement to that view ("Maybe eternal happiness was so boring that Eve biting the apple was justified"--Paraphrased off of Chuck Palahniuk)--is limited because of the Fall, whether it happened or not. Man, forget English teacher--philosophy is fun! (Is this considered philosophy?) Too bad that's not really considered a job anymore and I can't even go back in time for it cause women weren't exactly loved then... I'll just have to find Epicurus! Well, Epicurus the Sage does look like it would be fun... Which I just discovered is just the one volume. Dammit! Really!? It's such a cool comic. That is, if you're a fan of those Greeks... Emma.

And today at work a guy who looked like Kurt Vonnegut bought tomatoes. Awesome.