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Oct. 3rd, 2007 09:23 pmI don't really have anything interesting to say I'm afraid, but I'm sort of getting sick of waiting for inspiration to hit to do a proper update, so here you go. I have some faint hope that once I start writing, I'll be clomped merrily on the back of the head by a muse and suddenly become far more entertaining than I feel. I wonder what muse holds dominion over the blogosphere? Melpomene is probably still exhausted from the glory days of the blood dripping, skull spinning, look at my woeful poetry geocities page. It seems Clio most likely has better things to do, and sadly, the average standard of writing on the net probably doesn't count as poetry, either bucolic, lyric, epic or erotic. Maybe they have an intern. Regardless, I haven't been bludgeoned with the truncheon of inspiration, so I guess this will probably just be a hum-drum "What I've been doing" sort of update.
As is usual for me, I've mainly just been consuming media gluttonously. You'd think with the amount of information I absorb, I'd almost be forced to turn around and do something useful with the excess, but no, all of the books and movies just sit there in my head, having chaste little tea parties, without the slightest urge to procreate and send little baby new ideas back into the world. Stupid head eunuchs. Ok, list time. Things recently read or re-read: Iain M. Banks - Feersum Endjinn, Walter Moers - The Thirteen and a Half Lives of Captain Bluebear (charming, but not Phantom Tollbooth, which is what I wanted it to be), Roger Zelazny - Lord of Light (best book ever to involve both Buddhism and plasma weapons), Haruki Murakami - After Dark (Middle of the road Murakami, which is still quite good), Ryu Murakami - In The Miso Soup (Just remembered that I reread this solely because I bought Piercing, realized this was the prequel, finished it, and then got distracted before starting Piercing), Irvine Welsh - The Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs (I can't tell if he's lightened up on writing the scottish accent, or if my experiences with Spud in Trainspotting and Porno have just immured me to it), Barry Hughart - Bridge of Birds, Geoffrey Eugenides - Middlesex, David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas (Thank you for the recommendation psydid, I liked it rather a lot), Fischer Tibor - The Collector Collector, Tony Vigorito - Just a Couple of Days, Theodora Goss - In The Forest of Forgetting (Rachelhead, have you read any of her stuff? Was vaguely reminiscent of the Datlow/Windling fairy tale reinterpretations we were both reading in college, except better.), Geoff Ryman - Air (Cyberpunk that takes place almost entirely in a small, barely technological village in faux Kazakhstan. Who'da thought?), Warren Ellis - Crooked Little Vein (Godzilla Bukkake - nuff said), Tao Lin - Eeeee Eee Eeee (This book is surpassingly strange. No really, here's a sample paragraph.
Moose that year stood alone in shadowy alleyways. They weighed a thousand pounds, which made them not want to have thoughts. Mostly they just watched, from a distance--in blackness and without thinking. If some of the alleyway was bright and some was dark the moose would walk to where it was dark and stare at where it was bright---and not think anything at all. Sometimes an alien would stand with a moose, not because of solidarity but because of accidentally doing it. Aliens usually stood in dark doorways but sometimes got confused and stood in alleyways behind, on top of, or adjacent moose. Sometimes a bear climbed a moose and the moose would feel warm and happy, which made them run. Moose had no friends that year. A lot of the time a moose would feel tired and lean against other moose. Only there wouldn't be moose there and the moose would fall.
Needless to say, I liked it. I'm pretty sure I liked it at least.). Oof. Ok. Done listing now. There's more than that, but I'm getting sick of digging up amazon links for them, and loathe to break the pattern now. Anyway, viva bibliophilia (Yes, technically incorrect, I know, but it scans well).
Hrm. It's getting late-ish. I'll spare you an equally epic list of what movies I've seen, or what I've been listening to. I will comment that Underworld was great as always live. While Paul Oakenfold was really, really not. Really. No, REALLY.
As is usual for me, I've mainly just been consuming media gluttonously. You'd think with the amount of information I absorb, I'd almost be forced to turn around and do something useful with the excess, but no, all of the books and movies just sit there in my head, having chaste little tea parties, without the slightest urge to procreate and send little baby new ideas back into the world. Stupid head eunuchs. Ok, list time. Things recently read or re-read: Iain M. Banks - Feersum Endjinn, Walter Moers - The Thirteen and a Half Lives of Captain Bluebear (charming, but not Phantom Tollbooth, which is what I wanted it to be), Roger Zelazny - Lord of Light (best book ever to involve both Buddhism and plasma weapons), Haruki Murakami - After Dark (Middle of the road Murakami, which is still quite good), Ryu Murakami - In The Miso Soup (Just remembered that I reread this solely because I bought Piercing, realized this was the prequel, finished it, and then got distracted before starting Piercing), Irvine Welsh - The Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs (I can't tell if he's lightened up on writing the scottish accent, or if my experiences with Spud in Trainspotting and Porno have just immured me to it), Barry Hughart - Bridge of Birds, Geoffrey Eugenides - Middlesex, David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas (Thank you for the recommendation psydid, I liked it rather a lot), Fischer Tibor - The Collector Collector, Tony Vigorito - Just a Couple of Days, Theodora Goss - In The Forest of Forgetting (Rachelhead, have you read any of her stuff? Was vaguely reminiscent of the Datlow/Windling fairy tale reinterpretations we were both reading in college, except better.), Geoff Ryman - Air (Cyberpunk that takes place almost entirely in a small, barely technological village in faux Kazakhstan. Who'da thought?), Warren Ellis - Crooked Little Vein (Godzilla Bukkake - nuff said), Tao Lin - Eeeee Eee Eeee (This book is surpassingly strange. No really, here's a sample paragraph.
Moose that year stood alone in shadowy alleyways. They weighed a thousand pounds, which made them not want to have thoughts. Mostly they just watched, from a distance--in blackness and without thinking. If some of the alleyway was bright and some was dark the moose would walk to where it was dark and stare at where it was bright---and not think anything at all. Sometimes an alien would stand with a moose, not because of solidarity but because of accidentally doing it. Aliens usually stood in dark doorways but sometimes got confused and stood in alleyways behind, on top of, or adjacent moose. Sometimes a bear climbed a moose and the moose would feel warm and happy, which made them run. Moose had no friends that year. A lot of the time a moose would feel tired and lean against other moose. Only there wouldn't be moose there and the moose would fall.
Needless to say, I liked it. I'm pretty sure I liked it at least.). Oof. Ok. Done listing now. There's more than that, but I'm getting sick of digging up amazon links for them, and loathe to break the pattern now. Anyway, viva bibliophilia (Yes, technically incorrect, I know, but it scans well).
Hrm. It's getting late-ish. I'll spare you an equally epic list of what movies I've seen, or what I've been listening to. I will comment that Underworld was great as always live. While Paul Oakenfold was really, really not. Really. No, REALLY.
