I had the supposedtobes today. Here’s something to cheer you (me) up.
I had the supposedtobes today. Here’s something to cheer you (me) up.
You should totally check out this webcomic. It is absolutely insane and fantastic.
Also because it has astronaut centaurs, a poltergeist cow’s head and voodoo superbears.
Seriously, check it out.
Edit: My Android WordPress app apparently won’t allow me to linkify to content. I am disappoint.
To make up for it (mostly me making things up to me) here’s a Merriam Webster video explaining the etymological origin of the word defenestrate, which is used spectacularly in the comic.
I was asked this on the NET yesterday: “what is the reading list of your life?” I didn’t get anything else to explain the question. The question came from something called a moving picture collection. I’m pretty sure it’s an alien artifact. Well, that or a youtube video. They’re more or less the same though.
But the question still stands.
“What is the reading list of your life?”
This is the sort of question that furrows my brow. It forcibly reaches out of my computer and kneads my forehead until my brow is properly furrowed. Like an old man, or possibly something else that is really wrinkly (aliens? Hairless cats?).
I’m having a hard time with this question because I’m not sure how to interpret it. Is the intent merely that gauge what sort of reading is prevalent in my life? Or is it that which I enjoy the most when I read regardless of whatever else I read?
It could also be that it is asking us to think on what gives us shape. Sort of like High Fidelity’s Top 5 list. Only, not Top 5.
You know what I mean.
This is what makes the question tricky. What gives us shape? Admittedly the video asked me not to overthink this, so oops!
The straight answer would include all the standard classics for a fantasy/scifi geek: The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Conan the Barbarian etc. But that only gives shape if you imagine those books encasing me and while that is cool (fuck yeah book fortress!), it isn’t necessarily what I had in mind.
I remember reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone when I was 15 or 16. My grandfather gave it to me for Christmas. He always gave me books for Christmas. This year though, well, this year I felt apathetic towards reading. There were cool video games to play, school to dismiss, work to be done and girls to dream about. So, I put the book into my to-read shelf where it lay for a year. I finally read it the following Christmas.
It blew me away. Muggles and wizards and castles and magic. It was (and still is) amazing. And I must have talked to everyone I knew about Harry Potter because my aunt suggested I read the Hobbit. To this day I don’t really know why she did that, though I imagine it must be because I talked about how much I loved Harry Potter.
I went to the library and checked out The Hobbit. It had a beautiful illustration of Smaug resting on his hoard done by John Howe and I took it with me wherever I went. Every spare moment I had was spent reading that book. When I finished Bilbo’s unexpected journey I followed Frodo to Mt. Doom and back. I owned (and still do) the trilogy with landscape paintings of Middle Earth on the cover, and if you peered close enough you could see the Fellowship so hopelessly lost on the canvas. The cover held as much allure to me as did the book itself. As with the Hobbit, I carried The Lord of the Rings with me everywhere. I witnessed Gandalf’s death on the fourth step going up the main stairs at MH, while on my way to french class. The books sat prominently on my desk so I wouldn’t have to spend time fishing them from my bag during breaks.
I was ravenous and Tolkien’s feast did nothing to satiate me. I wanted more and more I got.
After Tolkien and Rowling I read Keri Hulme and fell in love with weird and thoughtful prose. I read Elaine Cunningham and R.A. Salvatore along with a handful of other Forgotten Realms authors (Paul S. Kemp springs to mind) to keep my belly full. They tried to keep me fat and happy while I started Uni, where I came into contact with Beowulf, mightiest of heroes, and Wordsworth, W.B. Yeats, Irvine Welsh and George Mackay Brown (who led me to Scottish fiction) and Old English poetry. All of this added bits and bobs, pieces and pounds to the shape growing around me.
Outside of Uni I read Patrick Rothfuss while drinking awful smoked tea from Russia. I read Jack Vance’s Emphyrio while waiting for Emil to finish baking and Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five while in the hospital waiting for him to come out of the oven. Somewhere along the line I read High Fidelity and Wonderboys. They reminded me that the most interesting people are those that are deeply flawed.
As the depression gripped me hard I read Grant Morrison’s All-Star Superman and I cried.
One summer, as I was slowly recovering from a bad breakup and a hard winter of bleak thoughts I read Roger Zelazny’s Creatures of Light and Darkness. I remember sitting in a patch of sun shining through the big window at the Reykjavík Museum of Modern Art, reading slowly, savoring each word, letting the meaning of what I was experiencing envelop me. Just like Rowling and Tolkien changed me so did Vance and Zelazny. Especially Roger Zelazny. Creature of Light and Darkness filled me with fire and meaning, and though I haven’t figured out how to stoke those embers I will.
This is the reading list of my life.
Consider this the ghost of done.
Well I aim to banish him. The writing pants are on, the FILDI (fuck it, let’s do it) is filled with oranges and my ass is firmly planted in that special groove of my desk chair. I’ll bring that sucker back to the land of the living.
I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.
See you tomorrow.
I’m in my last stretch of final assignments so I’m a bit strapped for time, therefore no fresh short. I will however ply this space with an older vintage that could fall under “terrible wizard”. Hope this fills the hungry … Continue reading
Would you look at that: I just found the very first short-story I wrote. I must’ve been seventeen or eighteen when I wrote this. If I remember correctly I wrote it for my sister’s tenth grade english class. There’s really … Continue reading
I’m a bit proud of my cooking skill to be honest. At least judging from last night’s dinner. So I thought I’d share the recipe with you. Though forewarned is forearmed: this is vegetarian. But it’s also oh so yummy so fret not.
Also, I don’t have any pictures so you’re just going to have to use your imagination; picture slick rivulets of butter cascading down the hot pan, frothing over the crispy sage. The sweet tomatoes blushing. The pasta sitting comfortably in the roiling water. And the lemon waiting to kick things up a notch.
What? Don’t look at me like that. It’s not called food-porn for nothing. Also it was good. Damn good in fact. So good that I want everyone to try it. So here it is (for two):
A few big sage leaves.
Thyme to taste.
1/3 of a lemon.
Two medium-sized Portobello mushrooms.
Two big handfuls of sweet, chopped tomatoes. Think cherry or San Marzino.
One large red onion chopped however you damn well please.
Half a red chilli, finely chopped.
Three cloves of garlic, finely chopped.
Parmesan or pecorino cheese.
Start by frying the sage leaves in some butter. When the leaves have gone crispy set them aside and save the butter for something else. If you keep frying with the butter you’ll run the risk of burning it. That not good. The butter doesn’t like that.
Then chop the mushrooms into chunks and frying them in a pan with a generous amount of butter. When they start shrinking throw in the onions.
When those are nice and soft, translucent even, throw in the chili, garlic and thyme and put the water to the boil.
Wait for water to boil.
When the water is ready throw the spaghetti into the pot and the tomatoes into the pan. Remember though to lower the heat on the pan to low. Squeeze the lemon juice over everything and season to taste with salt and pepper.
When the pasta is ready toss it with the ingredients in the pan and serve with crumbled, crispy sage leaves and grated parmesan/pecorino cheese.