theology&geometry

• Random thought that just popped into my head while I was taking a shower: Is Jim Varney dead? Yes. Yes, he is. And what’s so weird about that particular thought popping into my head today is that the anniversary of his death was yesterday. My shine is weak.

• I’m sitting here with wet hair and a list of errands that can’t be run until the hair is dry. So what am I doing? Nothing that involves picking up the blow dryer, naturally.

• Somehow I’ve let my bookshelves overflow and books have begun creeping into the half of my bed that I don’t sleep on. I don’t mind it all that much, actually. They don’t get jealous when I give attention to other books, and they don’t get grumpy when I turn on the lamp in the middle of the night, or when I snore or hog the covers, which I would totally never do. But this clearly points to two things: My need for more shelving and my inability these days to pick a book and stick with it the whole way through before cracking open another.

• Actually, I did finish one of those books up there Friday night: Sharon Olds’ Blood, Tin, Straw. I know a lot of people are torn about Olds’ poetry and some people think is straight-up sucks, but I happen to love it. It’s visceral, and often too pragmatic and matter-of-fact while being sweepingly metaphoric, but there is something so fearless about its honesty that I can’t help but like it. If you need a sappy love poem to read to your SO this Thursday, you could try this one (forgive the Comic Sans).

• I think I’ll go see The Savages some time today. One of the more interesting aspects of being single is the part where you go to movies by yourself. (I know there are some non-single people who do this too; I’m just saying, when I was part of a couple, I never would have gone to a movie alone because there’s all sorts of relationship politics tied up in going to see movies without the other partner.) I went last week to see There Will Be Blood by myself, and had a pretty great time. Although, it does feel kind of weird to laugh when there’s no one beside you laughing too. (Blood was fantastic, and yes, there were funny parts. At least they were funny to me.)

• I’m ready for spring. And things that are green.

Only what looks to be the most hilarious book ever!!!

Check out some of these 2007 book cover designs.

I particularly love The Worst Years of Your Life and Small Crimes in an Age of Abundance.

I swear I would read all the books on this list based on their covers alone.

[for Wednesday, Sept. 5]

Not unlike The Rules, which I love for its sheer ridiculousness and tendency toward parody, this book is all about manipulation and tricksterism. (“It’s not lying; it’s flirting.”) The former promises marriage; the latter promises booty. Both no doubt lead their followers down the path to become horrible people.

Which means they are excellent reads.

Project 365

Phil and I went to see 1408 the other night. It was a decent-enough flick, carried pretty much by John Cusack and his sheer will to get to the end credits.

It’s based on a Stephen King short story that I’ve never read, but like some of King’s other works, it’s about a writer and a place with a bad reputation and some spiritual residue, and how those environments can bring out the worst in people — terror, self-doubt, guilt, violence, etc. It was amusing watching Cusack verbally accost the mini-bar, and I got a good wince or two out of the creepy crawly thing in the vent, as well as the dead-daughter-turning-to-ashes bit. Now that’s macabre.

I’d like to read the story to see if it’s scarier than the film. I still contend that The Shining is the scariest (fiction) book ever written. Okay, maybe not ever written, but at least that I’ve read. I remember lying in my bed, heart racing during the topiary garden and fire hose scenes, having to put the book down for a while to settle (I was either in middle or high school during my first reading). But I’m open to suggestions of other scary fare. I haven’t read a good scary book in a while.

Read this. I defy you to stop once you start. I’m on chapter seven and it’s all I can think about. I’d like to add it to my Reader McReadsalot sidebar, but I’ll have to come up with a cool way to display an online novel with no cover art. Hmmm.

Seriously, read it.

I live near a Catholic school, which has a little grotto out in the courtyard. I never see any kids hanging around it.

[Insert clumsy religion-related segue here.]

I’m reading Christopher Hitchens’ God Is Not Great, a rambly manifesto on the ways in which all religion — from arbitrary, black-cat superstitionist spirituality to Christianity to Islam — makes people think and do outrageous and harmful things in the name of pleasing/impressing/sating the sky fairy of one’s choice.

While I don’t count myself a big Hitchens fan, it’s still a relief to see someone fearlessly call out and condemn those belief systems that seek to control the lives of all — even those who don’t believe. He’s preaching to the choir, I suppose (to use a worn-out religious metaphor), but sometimes when you count yourself a member of a choir that is largely ignored or despised, it’s nice to be addressed every now and again.

(This photo has been darkened. Here’s the original.)

Project 365