Shadow Flutter

The Only One, by Caola Dibble The Only Ones is billed as a near future, post-pandemic science fiction novel.  But there is nothing post-pandemic about it.  Millions are dying and continue dying of diseases, great and small, and no one is more susceptible to these diseases than children.  This is a world in which orphans abound, streets and buildings are regularly sprayed with industrial strength antiseptics, and people are hosed down with anti-pathogen solutions as they move zone to zone.  Government institutions shatter or fray.  Cities and suburbs retain some form of order, while rural areas are lawless.   But not everyone is susceptible to the diseases.  There are those called “hardys,” mostly women, who are immune to some or many of the diseases.  In a world where children are dying at an alarming rate, there is a demand for children; and where there is a demand, a supply follows.  Black market cloners pop up around the wor...

You all know what I’m talking about.  You’ve all stepped in it.  You find it on your lawn or on the sidewalk and often on popular walking and biking trails.  That’s right, dog poop, the scourge of city and suburban living.  HOA’s raise fees to strategically place on grounds dog poop bags and dog poop receptacles.  But many dog owners refuse to use them, preferring instead to leave their pet’s gift where it lies for others to admire.  And who can blame them.  Who want’s to stick his hand in a plastic bag and reach down and dispose of poop with only a sliver of plastic separating hand and poop.  All of this drives HOA management mad.  So now one HOA is striking back.  Beginning immediately the management of one Chicago apartment complex is requiring their residents to take cheek swabs — no, not that cheek — of their dogs.  Management will set up a DNA database, and whenever an offending poop is found on the grounds a sample will ...

Have you ever come across one of those books, usually non-fiction, that is stuffed with periphery information called front matter that seems to serve no other purpose than to make the book bigger and more important than it really is?  Well, if you have, read along and see if this doesn’t sound familiar. First there is the usual stuff about copyright, publisher, previous editions, etc.  Then we come to the table of contents that not only lists the chapter titles but every subsection within each chapter, every one with an explanation of the subject matter covered.  That can take pages in itself. Next comes the introduction, which more often than not is written by some so-called expert on the author and his times, which itself can go on for pages and pages -- one big info dump.  And gosh these experts really want you to know how expert they are, because they cover every nook and cranny in the author's life attributing to each one a significance it can...

As I mentioned in my post The Love of Literature , I’m reading Rebecca West’s Black Lamb and Grey Falcon .  When West and her husband arrive in Zagreb, their first stop in Yugoslavia, they are met by three friends of West’s.  They are Constantine, a Jew and a Serb, Valetta, a Dalmatian and a Slav, and Gregorievitch, a Croat and Slav, who West refers to as Pluto because his physical appearance reminds her of the Disney character in the Mickey Mouse films.  All three belong to the Literati of the newly formed Yugoslavia, and each is political and at each other’s throat.  West tells the following story about Gregorievitch, who she refers to as Pluto. It appeared that one day some years before, Pluto had rung up Y. [an editor of a certain newspaper] and reminded him that next week was the centenary of a certain Croat poet, and asked him if he would like an article on him.  Y. said that he would, and Pluto sent an article four columns long, including two quotatio...

So you dread retirement.   You worry that retiring means the end of life, that you have passed from the center aisle to the checkout lane, and that the days of fruitful contribution will be replaced with a feeling of ennui, even dread as you pass hour after hour, day after day in unending boredom and sameness.   (I was going to use the checkout clerk as a really cool metaphor for the angel who guards heaven and cashes in your chips, but I can’t remember his name, so the heck with it.)   And you hear stories.  Stories about a retired gal you used to know who couldn’t stand it anymore, so she got a job at the nearest Walmart where, for minimum wage, she shouts meaningless “welcomes” to customers all day long, until one day she isn’t there and no one notices.  Or an ex-colleague who after retiring trots on down to the local hardware store where he whiles away blissful hour after blissful hour making keys for harried people with too many burdens and never enoug...

Stock Exchange Quotation This is a famous Norman Rockwell Painting that appeared in the Saturday Evening Post on January 18, 1930.  See the young man with the red shirt and apron bending over to the immediate left of the dog?  See his two legs clearly visible in the painting?  Now look at the young man's right hand.  See how it appears to be resting on his knee as he bends over?  But whose knee?  The young man's legs are accounted for.  No way is his hand resting on his knee unless his knee is deformed and grotesque.  Seems Norman screwed up.  Perhaps he meant to portray the young man as grabbing his apron, but that isn't how it looks.  The hand should be on the right leg to support the locked-knee position.  Kid must have had back problems later in life.  Just an observation.

I' m starting a new feature on my Blog.  Beginning this month once a month I will list all the books I purchased and read during that month followed by summaries and other pithy musings and humorous observations.  What a brilliant and intriguing idea you say?  Yes, it is.  I wish I could say it is mine.  But, alas, I never think of anything pithy or intriguing.  This is a blatant ripoff of Nick Hornby’s idea.  Hornby wrote a monthly column for The Believer  magazine in 2003 and beyond in which he listed the books he purchased and read during that month.  The difference is the publishers of The Believer didn’t permit Hornby to diss an author or a book — only happy reviews allowed at The Believer .  Yeah, one of those magazines.  Unlike Hornby, I can let loose, and will, so I know you will want to read this.  So, without further ado, here is November 2015’s literature recap.   Books Purchased November 2015 Violence...

The Diane Rehm Show is an NPR news-commentary show hosted by Diane.  She invites experts -- reporters, analysts, think tank nerds, and professors -- to discuss current events.  It runs from 10 - 12 on weekdays here in the Washington D.C. area with different subjects covered during the first and second hours.  This morning I tuned in halfway through the first hour. There was Diane and her bevy of experts discussing Syrian Refugees, fake Syrian passports, ISIS, and the recent attack in Paris.  Interesting stuff.  The second show was about the Greater Sage-Grouse.  No attempt was made to segue from one to the other, and that’s probably because there is no way to do so, but neither was there any warning, just the usual interlude between shows, and all of this had an interesting effect on me.   I didn’t know what was to be covered during the second show and also didn't know that the first one had ended, and as my mind is wont to do, it wandered durin...

I've been listening to Donald Trump and how he always says "Trust Me" when asked how he will accomplish everything he says he will accomplish. How will you get Mexico to pay for the wall?  Trust me.  I'll get it done. How will you create jobs?  Trust me.  I'll create them. How will you deal with Putin?  Trust me.  He'll listen to me. etc., etc., etc. ad infinitum. Big promises with no insights into how.  I wonder how he gets away with this, but get way with it, he does.  The more incompetent he sounds, and the more vicious he gets, the more popular he becomes.  He defies reason and logic, and it's as if I'm living in La La Land.  I fully expect the next thing to happen is the rules of physics will no longer apply, the logic of math will fail, and the rules of gravity will reverse themselves.  That's when we will all be in trouble. But then I had a brilliant thought: he has a secret up his sleeve, something that will make se...

Tuesday: The Library, Part II Wednesday: Las Vegas, Part II