1. Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass.
2. C.S. Lewis's Signature Classics - Mere Christianity, The Screwtape Letters, The Abolition of Man, The Great Divorce, The Problem of Pain, Miracles, and A Grief Observed.
3. Evelyn Waugh's Decline and Fall.
In which, I am completely enamored with the cover of Waugh's satirical novel.
At long last, I've completed Dinty W. Moore's Between Panic & Desire. It's an extremely short piece for a memoir, only because it's experimental and that it investigates certain aspects of Moore's past. Substitute fathers, televised cultural explosions, terrorism, etc. The page numbers insist I finish this in an afternoon, but the prose demands more from the average reader. Moore refers to plenty pop cultural references, particularly during the 60s, so I'm really not his intended audience. My dad might find it enlightening. Take his strict Malaysian upbringing in a rural backdrop and paste it behind Moore's kaleidoscopic stage, often affected by his frequent acid trips. Or just plain high over dope.
Great book, though some of his humor eluded me due to unfamiliar references. Maybe I should watch more of his TV.
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I forgot to take a picture of what I wore. Again. I got lazy, so it was just the plain black shirt and jeans. Pleasant weather, got a little sun. Great for random stretches along the sidewalk.
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"How can you not shoot a damn pumpkin out on a field, and not have fun?"
The two negatives here rendered the question into something nonsensical. I believe it to be...
"How can you not shoot a damn pumpkin out on a field? And if you did, how can you not have fun?"
But hey, how can anyone be an ass to point this error in syntax to a dude growing a handsome white mustache and beard, in a pair of shades and a colorful hippie cap (well... a beanie too small for the man's head would be a better image, but still colorful nonetheless. Think Jamaica), who smokes cigars and says, "rules are meant to be broken. Just don't get caught in the act."
Wait... I think I might be morphing two similar-looking individuals into one persona.
Oh well, the point is, I'm typing this just as Darren is watching the Science Channel's Punkin Chunkin. Enthusiasm over big, muscled machines. Exaltation for the laws of physics. Loud farmers, who just happen to be ingenious inventors and innovators. And of course, the pumpkins. First, there were no rules. And then, they decided on one. Then five. Then twenty five. And now a little book. Not even the committee could tell you every single one of them if prompted. But I've got a bone to pick with this.
I can't friggin' read C.S. Lewis with such an awesome distraction flashing right above the edges of my book.
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