Erik’s Blog

That’s right: FREE, as in beer, as in don’t cost nuthin’. Actually, it costs $0.01 and you have to pay for shipping, but yeesh, this is quite a deal. $0.01 + shipping is worth it for the CD alone.

Run, don’t walk, here and get a copy for yezself.

Of course, being a McSweeney’s book, it contains adult content. Here’s an example, just to pique your interest:

blowkay [bloh’-kay] adj. of an attitude, typically exhibited by the electorate, that elected officials who have sexual relations outside of marriage while in office are less deserving of impeachment than officials whose decisions lead to the loss of human life. Folks say the new senator from Rhode Island is a skirt chaser, but as long as he doesn’t send thousands of Americans off to die in a war on false pretenses he’s blowkay with me.

You get the idea.

‘Kay, M’sF went on a short hiatus (who am I kidding? It’ll probably go on another one after today). Recent events have made it necessary to pull M’sF out of semi-retirement.

McSweeney’s seems to be in a bit of a pickle. Their distributor went bankrupt a number of months ago, forcing them (and all the other small presses that used the distributor’s services) to switch to a new distributor. The news guys seem to be working out well. However, the bankruptcy enabled the defunct distributor to simply cancel profits that it owed the presses. That sucks.

For some odd reason the financial loss is hitting McSweeney’s now. That’s why now more than ever they need money. This is a temporary setback, one that was 100% out of their control, and once the storm blows over it’ll be business as usual. To help the storm blow over, please consider popping by the McSweeney’s store and buying something.

I’ll recommend the McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern bundles, particularly the #11/#12 bundle and the #13/#14 bundle. I’ll also recommend two books: The Better of McSweeney’s and Ben Greenman’s Superbad. You actually can’t go wrong with most of their stuff. I will say Samuel Johnson is Indignant by Lydia Davis and McSweeney’s Outlaws, Noisy Blobs, etc. book didn’t impress me, though. You can’t win ‘em all.

[UPDATE: It looks like those two bundles are sold out. Individual copies of the books are available.]

If you don’t wanna help, no biggie. I just figured I’d bring this up. (Note to my Utah friends: McSweeney’s publications tend to be Rated R. You’ve been warned.)

^{This post has been translated from English to German and back to English.}

For your examination:

A one year’s subscription to The Believer costs $65 on Amazon.com.

A one year’s subscription to The Believer costs $45 with McSweeney’s (it publish the magazine).

I submitted a WTF note with Amazon.com’s The Believer side, which was never published. That I am not surprised.

Moral of history: Amazon.com can suck.

In spite of the best efforts of my design professors to fill my time with assignments, I still manage to (defiantly) read books. Screw ‘em, I need balance in my life. And I’m sick of school.

Pffththttthtthhhhh… (more…)

Hey, how’s it goin’? It’s been a while, hasn’t it? In case folks think I’ve dropped off the face of the planet or that all the love is gone, I figured I’d check in and post an update or to…or twelve…whatevuh.

Thrills and chills await you after the jump.

(more…)

Wow, this is sad. Where did summer go? I know, all y’all who have graduated or otherwise don’t bother with school think summer’s still going. I, on the other hand, need to start school next week. My last year, but still.

There’s still time to eek out another summer book update. I promise this one will be at least as lame as the others. Also, I have a nagging feeling that at least one book that is not listed below was read but I forgot about it. I’m sure it had nothing to do with interest in the book. Life has just been really, really nutty.

McSweeney’s #16 was like all the other issues of McSweeney’s that I’ve read: fantastic. I still don’t quite get the comb, though. When the book first arrived I went straight for the comb thinking it was going to be something really ornate and wild. It’s just a comb, folks. Don’t get so excited next time this happens, ‘kay? You end up getting me excited, and then I get let down because you made too big a deal over nothing. The publication is highly recommended, though, in spite of the comb fiasco.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norell by Suzanna Clarke was another fantastic read. A number of “meh” reviews have washed up for this beast and I guess I can see why: if you’re not a long distance reader, or don’t care for 19^th century fiction (even when it’s faked by a contemporary author), or simply thought this was a fantasy book about magicians, you won’t have much else to say but “meh.”

I find myself in the same situation as the rest of the folks who gave this book glowing reviews. The best way I can describe it is this: it’s a 19^th century story about England that just happens to include magic. Having read another long distance reading book earlier this summer about 19^th century England, Quicksilver, I guess I was pre-primed to read this thing and that may have influenced how much I liked it. Like Quicksilver it’s a pig, let there be no doubt about it: 850 pages long with a fair amount of footnotes, and although the story isn’t overly complex, it’s not a Harry Potter book either. Regardless, it’s a very well crafted story.

I don’t know what else I can say about the story without pissing folks off with spoilers so I’ll stop here. Remember: it’s a long distance read, so you can’t pick up the book, read for a half hour, pick it up again a week later, read for 20 minutes, etc. Dedicate a few hours every day to reading it or forget it. Slow burners like this build tension slowly but the payoff of sticking with it to the end is wonderful.

(Not really a spoiler: the way the story ends, it appears a sequel may be possible. I sincerely hope this happens.)

I’m still reading the Lydia Davis book. It’s going slowly. There are gems here and there but overall I’m not as excited with it as I was hoping to be. I’ll keep reading.

My wife and I just finished a week in California’s wine country, and as folks who have been there know, after about 5 p.m. everything more or less closes except for a few restaurants and bars. So, we both brought books with us (duh). Mine is the small Barnes & Noble pocket hardback version of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. I’m tired of hearing folks around me glow about Holmes stories so I figured I’d give them a shot. So far, so good. I’ll give a full report some other time. I also brought Steven Dixon’s I but decided to skip it in favor of the Holmes stories. Shoot me. I’ll read Dixon eventually.

Um, what else? Who knows. I guess I’ll shut up.

How’s that for a title?

First, the big news: I took the plunge and ordered a MacBook. It’s not my first Mac, of course. It’s actually my fourth Mac if you count the old SE/30 that I got in the mid-90s. This is definitely my first Intel Mac, though. My iBook has seen better days and is probably (just a guess) going to be unsupported soon, plus I’m entering the last year I can take advantage of student discounts, so…

Blah blah blah, justifications, justifications. I’m actually going to use it so it’s worth it. I should have it in my grubby little hands within a week or so.

With that out of the way, a boring Summer Book update:

White Teeth by Zadie Smith wasn’t boring, but it wasn’t the mind blowing read that I expected it to be. It was a very well done first book, though, and I’m not adverse to reading other Smith books, but I’ll go into the next one with slightly more down to earth expectations. White Teeth was worth the read but I don’t think it’s top shelf material. Just my unwelcome, unenlightened opinion.

Up next: McSweeney’s #16 and Samuel Johnson Is Indignant by Lydia Davis, another McSweeney’s book.

Um, yeah.

With all the other drama in my life you’d think I wouldn’t have time to read. I’m a bit surprised that I’ve had time, to be honest. Lots of crap is chilling out so I plan on doing some serious catch-up reading soon.

Like anyone cares, huh? Whatevuh, my blog.

Without further ado, here’s the list of books that I’ve read since the last time I bored you with a list of books that I’ve read:

Quicksilver by Neil Stephenson, a.k.a. Part 1 of “The Baroque Cycle.” It’s actually three books in one. Over 900 pages long. Did I mention it’s only Part 1? It’s a story about the genesis of what I can only guess is a crypographic society. This book takes place in the late 17^th/early 18^th century in (mostly) Europe. Folks who read Cryptonomicon (also by Stephenson) will recognize a few names: Waterhouse and Shaftoe in particular. Consider this book a part of a triple prequel, the other two being Parts 2 & 3 of “The Baroque Cycle,” which I have not read yet.

You know, I don’t care if a book is interesting (which this was), by the time you hit page 700 in a 900 page book you’re about ready for a change. As with all the other hayOOGE books I’ve read, I’m glad I read this one but I’m also glad I’m done with it and can move on. I’m not sure how long the third “Baroque” book is but I have the second — The Confusion — and it’s around 700 pages. Am I going to read it any time soon? Nope.

The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove by Christopher Moore was pretty good. I’ll go ahead and rank it just under Bloodsucking Fiends and Lamb (the latter being the funniest book I’ve ever read, bar none). Any book with Mavis the mechanical bartender is okay by me. Moore has written a number of books with her in them. She’s one of the more unique characters in contemporary fiction. I can’t explain why without sounding like an idiot so I won’t bother. Goofy book…

McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern Issue #13, sometimes just refered to as the comics issue, rocked. It’s about 95% comics. Not mainstream stuff; alternative press, indie, and otherwise off the wall Rated R comics. Even the dustjacket is comics: it folds out to a four page newspaper spread, comics on one side and book credits on the other. Two small booklets with more comics are included, tucked into the folds of the dustjacket. I guess they ran out of space. I’ve gone through a number of McSweeney’s publications and none have disappointed me. This one stands out as one of the better ones, though, which says a lot.

McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern Issue #19 has been mentioned here in the past. Bit by bit I’ve been taking pieces out of the cigar box that holds it together and reading them. At the bottom of the box is an approximately 150 page long book with a few stories. This is what I’m saying I’ve read: the 150 or so page book. The first story didn’t grab me, but the rest did. These things defy categorization or even explanation so I won’t even try. If you know McSweeney’s publications, you already have an idea of what they’re all like. Wowza… I must say I like the bound books better than the loose issues with disconnected pieces, of which this is my first. I also have Issue #16 on my bookshelf, another loose issue but one that I can keep in a bookshelf with other books if necessary. This cigar box… I don’t know where I’m going to put it. It could be worse, like Issue #17 (a bundle of mail held together with a rubber band. What the hell are you supposed to do with THAT? I don’t own that issue… yet…).

‘Kay, that brings us up to today. I just started reading White Teeth by bitchy-young-British-author Zadie Smith. It’s supposed to be mind blowing. I’m about 70 pages into it and so far it actually is good. Hopefully this will continue.

I know you’re sick of hearing the “M” word, but I have to mention that I have six more McSweeney’s books on their way, three are book books and three make up the McSweeney’s First Three Issues gift set, due to ship in July. One of the three former books will take up residence on my nighttable next to the copy of Don Quixote that has had a bookmark at page 150 for about a year. I don’t know what my problem is… This edition of DQ is actually quite funny, like reading a Monty Python skit, but there always seems to be something else I want to read first so I haven’t picked it up in a long, long time. Some day.

Maddox autograph, originally uploaded by erat.

Maddox. No, not Angelina Jolie’s kid. He’s one of the only two people in the Salt Lake City area who can claim to be Internet celebrities (the other being Heather Armstrong). His web site is either loved or hated depending on your capacity for politically incorrect humor and commentary. If you’re easily offended, just avoid the guy, ‘kay?

On June 20th, Maddox kicked off a promotional tour to promote his new book The Alphabet of Manliness. His publisher originally didn’t set up a stop in Salt Lake City (WTF?) but Maddox insisted that one take place. It was held at Sam Weller’s Bookstore, the coolest independent bookstore in the SLC area and a fantastic resource for hard to find books, zines (and other indie publications), McSweeney’s books (!!), etc. Way cool place.

Anyway, Maddox — dressed in a king costume — did his thing: chatting about the book, receiving gifts of beef jerky, answering questions, chatting briefly about future plans (video games, comics, etc.), and reading exerpts from the book. It’s amazing how approachable the guy is. Having only read his web site, I figured he’d at least act like an arsehole to keep up the persona, but nope, he’s actually a nice, funny, friendly guy. Crazy.

He does rule, though.

You can find pictures taken along his book tour here (scroll to the bottom of the page).

What have I been thinking?? Summer is the time for books, books, BOOKS, and so I’ve been reading books, books, BOOKS, but I haven’t reported on any of them. I must be majorly distracted or something.

Without further yappage, here is where I stand as of the week of May 21, 2006:

Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

A former design professor turned me on to Murakami’s books a year ago? Two years ago? I don’t recall. My first Murakami experience was with The Wind Up Bird Chronicle. Probably not the best choice; it’s his best book, so every Murakami book since then has been held to a ridiculously high standard. Few have added up, the notable exception being the second Murakami book that I’ve read, Norwegian Wood. Whereas the former has the feel of The Ring directed by David Lynch, the latter is a love story that is so gut wrenchingly bittersweet that I still get misty when I think about it. And I don’t read love stories. He’s that good.

Enough blather. Kafka was good, but not great. The thing about Murakami books that you have to realize is that he’s exploring a few specific themes much like an artist paints a series of paintings that all address a concept in only slightly different ways. Murakami uses similar character names, similar pets, etc. in most of his books. It’s odd. I guess I’ve read about these characters so many times I’ve grown numb to them.

All things considered, I still recommend reading Kafka. And all the rest of Murakami’s books. If you like post-modern Asian fiction (think of the hum of dischord that ran throughout The Ring, something disturbing that’s not in your face but instead is lurking beneath the surface) you’ll like his books.

And technically I only finished this book after school got out. I began reading it over spring break. Forgive me. The rest of the books that I say I’ve read I actually have read since the first week of May. Really.

McSweeney’s #14 by…um, McSweeney’s

I don’t know when I was first bitten by the McSweeney’s bug but it’s been a curse on my soul. All I want to do after reading a McSweeney’s book is read another one. I read the web site, I read the store site, I am on a few mail lists for a few McSweeney’s authors… I have a fevuh, and the only prescription is MORE MCSWEENEY’S.

I really don’t know how to sell this series of publications adequately, nor can I describe them. Others have described McSweeney’s’ publications as “high-brow low-brow.” I think I agree. It’s like reading about bodily functions while sipping a flute of Dom. Avant garde offbeat writing for the masses.

This issue isn’t like the other issues that I own. It’s not actually numbered (it was published between #13 and #15, hence it’s #14). It’s not a hardcover or in any other goofy state, like served in a cigar box (#19) or as a rubber banded bundle of junk mail (#17). The stories in this issue are — as almost always — awesome. I took a minor detour before reading act III of Denis Johnson’s play Soul of a Whore so I could read act II from McSweeney’s #11, an issue that I purchased months ago but still have not read in its entirety.

Why am I saying this stuff? Hell if I know. I love McSweeney’s. Deal.

Speaking of McSweeney’s…

The Day they Hung the Elephant by Charles Edwin Price

When I subscribed to McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern the day after Christmas ‘05 I received — as an incentive — a free copy of the recently published Better of McSweeney’s book. I’ll only take a moment to gush over this thing: it rocks. Hard. The first story in the book was about an elephant who kills a guy and is sentenced to hang. This was an incredibly moving, very sad story (but very well written and well worth the read). At the end, the author gives a nod to CEP’s book. Evidently the metaphysical stuff in the story in BoMcS’s was made up but the core story of the elephant, the killing, and the hanging were true.

I, of course, had to read this book. And I did. In about 20 minutes. It’s only 43 pages long and looks like it was self published. It wasn’t, but it’s a pretty cheesy book. Regardless, the story in the book was incredible. The photo of Mary the elephant hanging from the 100 ton derrick car wasn’t pretty, but it was still worth the read.

The Best Non-required Reading of 2005 edited by Dave Eggers

You know there has to be a McSweeney’s reference here, right? Dave Eggers, author of the almost-Pulitzer prize winning A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, owns/runs McSweeney’s. Some McS’s authors are in this book, like that’s a surprise or something. Doesn’t matter, the book blew me away. Only a few duds, but I can forgive a few. Also well worth reading, even if you’re sick to death of reading about McSweeney’s stuff in this blog post.

Eragon by Christopher Paolini

The hell you say? Not only not a McS’s book, but a friggin’ TEEN BOOK? You gotta be kiddin’ me, right?

Nope, I read it. And I’m glad I did. Since giving in to the Borg and diving into the Harry Potter series I’ve learned that some of the best storytelling isn’t with adult fiction. The Potter series got me into Lemony Snicket and Eoin Colfer, which somehow got me into Clive Barker’s Abarat books (I can’t wait for vol. III), which somehow led me to this book.

Considering Paolini started writing it when he was 15 and published it when he was 19, I’d say this is one helluva feat and one helluva good book. I gather the second volume in this trilogy, Eldest, is lacking, but this book was great. It’s definitely a teen book — no Pulitzers will ever go anywhere near Eragon — but who cares? Get over yourself and try some teen stuff. You won’t be sorry.

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

I know, I know. It’s old, it’s tired, everyone’s read this damn thing and nobody seems capable of shutting up about it. My wife read it a year ago and has been badgering me to read it during school breaks. In her words, it’s a “brainless, quick read.” That sums it up perfectly. It’s a very easy to read book, it’s just interesting enough to keep you turning pages, and it’s definitely brainless. For simple, don’t-challenge-me summer reading this book is great.

If you want real suspense, though, screw this book. Read Intensity by Dean Koontz. Hands down, that is the single most painfully tense book I’ve ever read. It’s more of a page turner, the suspense is real, the story is agonizingly, drippingly wonderful, and it’s also fairly brainless. If you have to choose one intense book to read this summer, make it Intensity. If blood and violence turn your gut, read Da Vinci.

And then read Intensity. Look, just read the damn thing, okay? I’m tired of selling it.

Soooo… What am I reading now?

I feel like I’ve built up my reading tolerance to a point where I can begin to tackle Neal Stephenson’s “Baroque Cycle” series. I already read Cryptonomicon which is technically the beginning of the story, but in a weird way like how The Hobbit is part of Lord of the Rings but at the same time isn’t, know what I mean? Don’t sweat it, neither do I. But with that book out of the way, I’m now reading vol. I, Quicksilver. It’s over 900 pages of dense prose. It took me over a half hour to get through the first 15 pages last night. This is after putting down Da Vinci which you could conceivably read in one day if you began at 1:00 a.m. and finished at 12:59 p.m. It’s going to be a ride.

That’s a bit too heavy for bedtime reading, though. On my nightstand I have Christopher Moore’s The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove. I love Moore’s books. Lamb is hands-down my favorite, followed by Bloodsucking Fiends. The rest are good, but those two are great. Hopefully Lust will join the ranks of the great. If not, no biggie. It’s Moore. He doesn’t take himself seriously so why should you? We all need druggie and sacriligious humor every now and then. Folks take themselves so seriously nowadays…

Anyway, that was a long as hell post. I’d apologize, but y’know, it’s my blog.