my sweet sixteen

books i have finished recently:
A Hero of Our Time, Mikhail Lermontov:
Not clear if this is good because the author intended it to be good or because the author is so weird and mangled by stylistic ethics that the weirdness of it merely acts good to people reading with a different sense of what defines “goodness.” i suppose it could work the other way around just as easily. i vote good. still no dead souls.

O! How the Wheel Becomes It!, by A-Train Powell
if i’m goign to start messing around with shit i don’t understand i figured that i should probably start with the shortier, easier to ignore parts of Anthony Powell’s body of work before i drop scrill on Dance to the Music of Time. what i learned: this appears to be straightahead subtle satiric criticism of vague trends among british literary types circa 1970-1990 which should not resound with me as particularly funny or interesting but i choose to approve heartily of. i need a nap and some kind of food that isn’t cookies because all i have eaten today are cookies and this vodka. as far as this book is concerned — probably not a necessary read, although i found it to be a pleasant enough diversion. good source of mannerisms, if you are in the market for mannerisms.

Jens Rehn, Nothing in Sight:
Um, it’s waiting for godot except estragon has one arm dies in the first 40 pages and instead of being two weird guys, it’s a german submariner and an armless amerikaner guy in a rubber boat in the middle of the ocean. and they’re not waiting for godot, they’re just smoking cigarettes. halting vote for good, mostly because i got it for free but of my own choosing and would like to feel validated in that.

some awful jackass (actually just a polite-looking white lady) is standing in front of the table full of cake at the office christmas party so i can’t get any cake without hipchecking her brutally into the boards. which is chief among the reasons for my retreating to my cubicle. that and i don’t like crowds and i’m not interested in drinking hennessy and soda (who bought this?). i’d rather be outside mincing it up in the snow and drinking by myself (either diet coke or bourbon, not a combination). i have a weird terror that the office christmas party is now ending and people will now start walking psat my cube. oh god i hate this.

in more positive news: there is no more positive news.

i promise that the next post will entirely be about baseball roster moves and not about how i am a racist, if that’s what i am.

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