Annalee Newitz at io9.com provides “A syllabus and book list for novice students of science fiction literature.”
I’m already 4 for 5 on the “Utopias and Dystopias” section, teach. But I still gotta brush up on my Lovecraft. Ya heard?
Annalee Newitz at io9.com provides “A syllabus and book list for novice students of science fiction literature.”
I’m already 4 for 5 on the “Utopias and Dystopias” section, teach. But I still gotta brush up on my Lovecraft. Ya heard?
My favorite sentences from “Esquire’s 70 Greatest Sentences“:
…
At age twelve, Rick developed breasts. –Robert Kurson, “My Favorite Teacher,” 2000
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And too much testosterone is what causes men to commit unspeakable crimes like murder and rape and The Rock and Bad Boys. –Jeanne Marie Laskas, “Michael Bay,” 2001
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The food in private houses tends to be in the shape of things–ice-cream boats or hearts, fish-shaped aspic salads–and almost everything is creamed, not only creamed but served with creamed sauce. –Jessica Mitford, “Whut They’re Thanking Down There,” 1962
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This and nothing else is the desperately sought and tragically fragile writer’s process: in his imagination, he sees made-up people doing things–sees clearly–and in the act of wondering what they will do next, he sees what they will do next, and all this he writes down in the best, most accurate words he can find, understanding even as he writes that he may have to find better words later, and that a change in the words may mean a sharpening or deepening of the vision, the fictive dream or vision becoming more and more lucid, until reality, by comparison, seems cold, tedious, and dead. –John Gardner, “Do You Have What It Takes to Become a Novelist?” 1983
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In the months after I got back from Vietnam, the hundreds of helicopters I’d flown in began to draw together until they formed a collective meta-chopper, and in my head it was the sexiest thing going; saver-destroyer, provider-waster, right hand-left hand, nimble, fluent, canny and human: hot steel, grease, jungle-saturated canvas webbing, sweat cooling and warming up again, cassette rock ‘n’ roll in one ear and door-gun fire in the other, fuel, heat, vitality, and death, death itself no intruder. –Michael Herr, “High on War,” 1977
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Also, I shouldn’t have to say this, but do not, under any circumstances, put Pop Rocks in your ass. –Stacey Grenrock Woods, Sex column, 2003
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And, yes, you’re married and, yes, maybe she is, too, but you are there, both of you, because you want to strip yourselves down to just this moment, this motel, this song, this bottle of wine, this bra strap, these panties over this chair, this light cutting through these curtains, this pillow, these deep sighs. –Anonymous, “The Indefensible Position: Adultery Is Good for Your Marriage,” 2001
I should probably read these essays in their entirety now.
I received the following casting call earlier today:
Two actors needed to impersonate Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre in outdoor promotional event for university literary event. Perform along predetermined on-campus route. Must be able to speak in a French accent and perform a few phrases in French.
Breakdown: Female/20’s-50’s/Caucasian
Breakdown: Male/20’s-50’s/CaucasianPerformance Date: Wednesday, September 8th
Fee: $150E-mail headshot and resume to [REDACTED]
For videos of de Beauvoir and Sartre go to:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XHVTKy1cmuc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ect1K5SWhLw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9NbHRmOEXs&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYPP_tYQkFw&feature=fvst
I don’t know what university campus the event will take place on, but I hope they don’t stop there. Imagine an Existentialism-themed restaurant in the style of Jekyll and Hyde?
I had never heard of someone taking “athletic advantage” over anyone—let alone a minor—before. So, thank you, Yahoo! Sports, for introducing me to Julious Javone Threatts: “this is a 21-year-old criminal taking athletic advantage of competing against 14-year-olds [in middle school football].”
The article tells us that Threatts—who forged documents so that he could play on the gridiron with pubescent boys—is an “avowed Danielle Steele fan who recorded poetry readings on a personal YouTube channel,” but the article fails to report on how well the guy did (or did not do) on the field. Sure, you can follow the link above and listen to his shitty poetry, but what I wanna know is whether the 21-year-old crushed any kids?
Threatts might be one of the lamest Jay Gatsby knock-offs around. (Sub out Daisy Buchanan for Pop Warner football.) But he’s a kind of hero—a hopeless one, of course—attempting time travel without the physics. I wonder what kind of kid he was when he was 13 or 14. Was he doctoring his birth certificate so that he could compete in organized sperm games?
In a strange way I kind of admire the asshole. There’s a little bit of 28-year-old me that would love to go back and play ice hockey—my sport of choice when I was in middle school. But I haven’t skated in more than a decade. Now I’d probably look like a fool on the ice. And I wonder, would the cops let me keep my equipment on—skates and all—when they escort me from the rink to the idling cruiser?
Back in June I attended the Porcupine Festival in Lancaster, New Hampshire. Porc Fest is a part of the Free State Project. I’m planning on writing something feature-length about my experience there. I met a lot of nice people. I met a lot of nutcases. I met a lot of annoying nutcases.
I appreciate Penn’s nuanced take on the subject of videotaping police:
And what a great observation: Cops in movies are way too fucking old!
The Rod Serling doll will creep the fuck out of your other toys.
Twist Ending: YOU’RE ACTUALLY A TOY!
(via BoingBoing)
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