It is sixty-six and a half hours into 2010 and I have already finished the first book of my 2010 challenge. You’d think as an English graduate I’d find the reviewing part of it easy. But, actually it’s quite difficult to take a step back—not to give a Freudian/Marxist/feminist account of the story, not write an essay—and write plainly what I thought. Discuss.
Did you see what I did there? I turned it into an essay question. That’s the way we roll here, kids. Anyway, back to the book. It was Looking for Alaska by John Green. Well, I liked the characters because (1) I could relate to them. Miles, the protagonist was a geek: I’m a geek; (2) they all had their flaws. Miles was irritating: I’m irritating; and (3) I can’t think of a 3 right now, but 1 and 2 were good. I didn’t like them because, sometimes, they were too irritating. But that’s okay, because if the characters could admit when they didn’t like each other, so can I.
One impression I was left with though was that for a book so obsessed with last words it ended on a rather bum note. It was more of a dot dot dot, than anything else. And not one of those good dot dot dots, that leaves you thinking, “What? How can you do that, you crumby author? How could you leave us with so many unanswered questions?” Those are the good type of dot dot dot endings. No, this was like one of those conversations that you have where everyone talking gradually looses interest and you end in an awkward silence. And then you feel you have to clear your throat, or say, "Sooo..."
However, I loved the philosophical feel to the book. I loved the aforementioned last words that filled the narrative like dead on a battle field. I loved that it was a book written by a nerd, about a nerd and, probably, for nerds. One character learnt all the capitals of the countries in the world. I mean, my brother did that. It is one of those books that you could unashamedly talk in terms of feminism, Freud, Marxism, and all that jazz, because it seeped with references to different schools of thought, especially feminism. However I won’t do that, because that’s dull.
So it was a nice, familiar (read: predictable), and laid back start to my 2010 book marathon. I would say: read it, it won't kill you.
Sunday, 3 January 2010
Friday, 1 January 2010
Happy New Year
Bang! Pop! Wooooooooo! Phish!
If you didn't guess those are the sounds of fireworks going off to herald in the New Year. Hope you handled your fireworks safely. Now I've done my bit for public safety awareness, I can sleep tonight knowing that scores of people may have been saved by my aptly timed advice. I think I needed to emphasise the "may" in that sentence there.
Moving on. So, what has the New Year got in store for this merry little blog? Well, this year I’m going to set myself a challenge. It’ll probably go down like all my other challenges I’ve set myself during 2009. But, this is 2010, and we must have hope and courage and perseverance if we are to succeed. This challenge is to—wait for it—do something (yes?) amazing...spectacular...awesome...something... You know what I’ve done, haven’t I? How silly of me. I’ve made a huge thing of this challenge, and now you’re probably on tenterhooks to find out what it is (see note below). The thing is, this challenge isn’t the huge, spectacular thing I’ve made it out to be. But I’ve managed to delay saying what the challenge is by seventy words. Seventy-one. Okay, the challenge is to read twenty-six books in 2010. Why twenty-six books, you ask. Well, as there are fifty-two weeks in a year, that makes a book every two weeks. I’ve already got a few titles of books I want to read. These include Looking for Alaska, by John Green; Brighten Rock, by Graham Greene; and Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens. If you have any suggestions, suggest away.
So there we have it: 26 books in a year. Hopefully I will have finished Doris Lessing’s, The Good Terrorist, by then. Hopefully, I will have a little widget which will tell you what the book I am currently reading is. I shall also write some short reviews/commentaries.
See you later, terminator.
Note on “on tenterhooks”: While writing this post I got curious on where the phrase “on tenterhooks” originated. First, I discovered it was tenterhooks and not tenderhooks. Basically, in the olden days, after spinning wool they had to wash it. Then they had to dry it, but so that it didn’t shrink they hung it up on frames. These frames were called tenters, and the hooks on them were called tenterhooks. It isn’t a huge leap of the imagination how being strung up on tenterhooks can be used as a metaphor for anxiously awaiting something. Now, hopefully you read this bit before carrying on with the rest of the paragraph, so I delayed you finding out about the challenge by a further 124 words. Gutted. 126.
If you didn't guess those are the sounds of fireworks going off to herald in the New Year. Hope you handled your fireworks safely. Now I've done my bit for public safety awareness, I can sleep tonight knowing that scores of people may have been saved by my aptly timed advice. I think I needed to emphasise the "may" in that sentence there.
Moving on. So, what has the New Year got in store for this merry little blog? Well, this year I’m going to set myself a challenge. It’ll probably go down like all my other challenges I’ve set myself during 2009. But, this is 2010, and we must have hope and courage and perseverance if we are to succeed. This challenge is to—wait for it—do something (yes?) amazing...spectacular...awesome...something... You know what I’ve done, haven’t I? How silly of me. I’ve made a huge thing of this challenge, and now you’re probably on tenterhooks to find out what it is (see note below). The thing is, this challenge isn’t the huge, spectacular thing I’ve made it out to be. But I’ve managed to delay saying what the challenge is by seventy words. Seventy-one. Okay, the challenge is to read twenty-six books in 2010. Why twenty-six books, you ask. Well, as there are fifty-two weeks in a year, that makes a book every two weeks. I’ve already got a few titles of books I want to read. These include Looking for Alaska, by John Green; Brighten Rock, by Graham Greene; and Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens. If you have any suggestions, suggest away.
So there we have it: 26 books in a year. Hopefully I will have finished Doris Lessing’s, The Good Terrorist, by then. Hopefully, I will have a little widget which will tell you what the book I am currently reading is. I shall also write some short reviews/commentaries.
See you later, terminator.
Note on “on tenterhooks”: While writing this post I got curious on where the phrase “on tenterhooks” originated. First, I discovered it was tenterhooks and not tenderhooks. Basically, in the olden days, after spinning wool they had to wash it. Then they had to dry it, but so that it didn’t shrink they hung it up on frames. These frames were called tenters, and the hooks on them were called tenterhooks. It isn’t a huge leap of the imagination how being strung up on tenterhooks can be used as a metaphor for anxiously awaiting something. Now, hopefully you read this bit before carrying on with the rest of the paragraph, so I delayed you finding out about the challenge by a further 124 words. Gutted. 126.
Thursday, 24 December 2009
2009
On the fifth December 2008 I set myself some targets. Some unlikely targets, yes, but, some targets all the same. Some, inevitably, I failed at (story of my life). But some were achieved rather successfully. I managed to prostitute myself online reasonably well, using twitter and facebook as a suitable medium. Whoa, you think, I thought this was a family-friendly, happy-go-lucky type of blog. When I say 'prostitute' I mean shamelessly advertise my blog(s). Another of my targets I overshot by a long way. I aimed to have written 52 blog posts during 2009. This, my friend (or casual acquaintance, or even complete stranger), this is my 103rd post of 2009. If I write one more by next Thursday, I will have double the amount that I wished for. In 2009 I have:
and I have shared it with the world. Needless to say, 2009 was quite a busy year. In 2009, a total 126 comments have been written on blog (I counted them, oh yes) as I shared my bin-day dramas with you all. For this I thank you. Perhaps you are thinking, "he's done it, he's written 103 posts. Surely he'll give up. Please, let it be so."
Oh no my friend, oh no. You can't escape my inane drivel that easily (actually, it's a lot simpler than you think. Just don't read it). But I'm going to set myself some more targets. I have a few ideas up my sleaves (as well as flour, I've just been making pastry for mince pies), which shall be announced first thing on 1st January 2010. Forget counting down and singing Auld Laug Syne, you will be hovering over your computers to see what I have in store for 2010. Yeh, I bet.
Merry Christmas, folks.
and I have shared it with the world. Needless to say, 2009 was quite a busy year. In 2009, a total 126 comments have been written on blog (I counted them, oh yes) as I shared my bin-day dramas with you all. For this I thank you. Perhaps you are thinking, "he's done it, he's written 103 posts. Surely he'll give up. Please, let it be so."
Oh no my friend, oh no. You can't escape my inane drivel that easily (actually, it's a lot simpler than you think. Just don't read it). But I'm going to set myself some more targets. I have a few ideas up my sleaves (as well as flour, I've just been making pastry for mince pies), which shall be announced first thing on 1st January 2010. Forget counting down and singing Auld Laug Syne, you will be hovering over your computers to see what I have in store for 2010. Yeh, I bet.
Merry Christmas, folks.
Saturday, 19 December 2009
O Christmas Tree
Today I have put up my (almost) carbon neutral Christmas Tree. How come it's carbon neutral? you might ask. Well, I reply, it only travelled the distance of a few metres to my house. It was a baby tree that we bought about ten years ago, and now it's one big Christmas tree. It may not be the most perfectly formed tree ever, it may be a bit crooked. But I love it.
It's also better for the environment because after we've finished with it (assuming it doesn't die), it'll just go back where it came from and we'll dig it up again next year.
As quaint and nice as it sounds, it was a bit of an effort to get it there. First of all was the digging it up. This involved, digging, pulling and sawing. Then there was the potting of it. We went to the garden centre, bought a pot and came back to find the pot was too small. So we dashed back to the garden centre and bought another one. Unfortunately, that means there was an unnecessary amount of carbon emission in those trips to the garden centre. We also bought a bag of compost, which had frozen into tombstone. But after a lot of decorating and subsequent cleaning we now have a pretty Christmas Tree.
It's also better for the environment because after we've finished with it (assuming it doesn't die), it'll just go back where it came from and we'll dig it up again next year.
As quaint and nice as it sounds, it was a bit of an effort to get it there. First of all was the digging it up. This involved, digging, pulling and sawing. Then there was the potting of it. We went to the garden centre, bought a pot and came back to find the pot was too small. So we dashed back to the garden centre and bought another one. Unfortunately, that means there was an unnecessary amount of carbon emission in those trips to the garden centre. We also bought a bag of compost, which had frozen into tombstone. But after a lot of decorating and subsequent cleaning we now have a pretty Christmas Tree.
Friday, 18 December 2009
Conversations with my blog...
I sometimes like to imagine I can have conversations with my blog. I'm a bit strange like that. If it stops us being friends, then I'm sorry. If my blog could speak I think the conversation would go like this:
Blog: All by myse-e-elf. Don't wanna be, all by myseeeeeelf, anymoooooore.
Me: Hello, blog.
Blog: Oh, look what the cat dragged in.
Me: Someone's in a mood.
Blog: Really, I wonder why that would be. Perhaps because I've not heard hide or hair of you for months.
Me: One month. Don't exaggerate.
Blog: One month, fifteen days.
Me: You've been counting?
Blog: Well, I've had nothing better to do. The only company I've had is A.L.I.C.E. and she's plain odd.
Me: Oh.
Blog: Well, what you been up to? NaNoWriMo?
Me: No, I gave up in the second week.
Blog: Sounds familiar.
Me: What do you mean?
Blog: Well, it's obvious you have commitment issues.
Okay, you get the picture. Reading back, it sounds like something out of really bad American 1980s day time television. I think it works best if you give my blog a New York-Jewish accent.
In other news
It is the Christmas Holidays! I have survived my first full half-term at Totton College, as well as my first staff Christmas Meal. Lots of wine was consumed, a lot of crackers pulled, a lot of inappropriate comments made. At the moment I have SSB (Seasonal Silly Brain), which is characterised by a loss in processing skills and fine and gross motor skills, weight gain and lethargy, but also a warm fuzzy feeling. That sounds a bit like I'm drunk. I never blog drunk ("Well, that explains a lot!" my blog exclaims).
Have a Merry Christmas!
Blog: All by myse-e-elf. Don't wanna be, all by myseeeeeelf, anymoooooore.
Me: Hello, blog.
Blog: Oh, look what the cat dragged in.
Me: Someone's in a mood.
Blog: Really, I wonder why that would be. Perhaps because I've not heard hide or hair of you for months.
Me: One month. Don't exaggerate.
Blog: One month, fifteen days.
Me: You've been counting?
Blog: Well, I've had nothing better to do. The only company I've had is A.L.I.C.E. and she's plain odd.
Me: Oh.
Blog: Well, what you been up to? NaNoWriMo?
Me: No, I gave up in the second week.
Blog: Sounds familiar.
Me: What do you mean?
Blog: Well, it's obvious you have commitment issues.
Okay, you get the picture. Reading back, it sounds like something out of really bad American 1980s day time television. I think it works best if you give my blog a New York-Jewish accent.
In other news
It is the Christmas Holidays! I have survived my first full half-term at Totton College, as well as my first staff Christmas Meal. Lots of wine was consumed, a lot of crackers pulled, a lot of inappropriate comments made. At the moment I have SSB (Seasonal Silly Brain), which is characterised by a loss in processing skills and fine and gross motor skills, weight gain and lethargy, but also a warm fuzzy feeling. That sounds a bit like I'm drunk. I never blog drunk ("Well, that explains a lot!" my blog exclaims).
Have a Merry Christmas!
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