Books, books, books!

Marissa gave me three new books to feed the addiction. They are:

Fever Pitch by Nick Hornby (to fill out my collection)
Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer (a book I wanted to read forever)
and
Vanilla: Travels in Search of the Luscious Substance by Tim Ecott (which sounds decadent and fascinating)

I can't wait to get in there.

PATTOTE: Better living through libraries, especially mine.

Going to hell in a handbasket

I love this saying. Not only are things going to hell, they're going in a pretty container, probably with bows and flowers attached. You just can't get much more pear-shaped than that.

PATTOTE: Better living through me, cause the world is going to hell in a handbasket.

Frodo "blah blah" Baggins

I'm reading Lord of the Rings at the moment. I'm about half way through The Two Towers and enjoying the book more than I ever have before. I think JRR Tolkien's books fall into that category where, unless you're the right age and in the right frame of mind, you just fail to get into them.

That said, Frodo and Sam are working on my nerves big time. It's traitorous but true: I hate the main characters, and arguably the main point of the books.

But seriously, they're going to destroy the source of all evil. This should be riveting stuff. Perhaps my theory will mean that when I reread Tolkien's work in ten years I'll update with Legolas "blah blah" Aragorn "blah blah".

PATTOTE: Better living through rereading the classics.

Please do not complain about the pictures...

...there's fuck all I can do about them. Once you've all seen them, they're coming down anyway.

Dial 1-800-CANINE

So I phoned my dog on Saturday afternoon. Ok, ok, strictly speaking The Mother and The Sister went to visit Siska at the scene of her incarceration and phoned me and let me chat to her over the speakerphone. So I talked to my dog on Saturday afternoon.

Me: Siskey! Siskey! Baby girl! Googoo gahgah!
Siska: [thinks] What's the buzzing?
Me: [getting frantic, the dog has forgotten me!] Siskey! Baby! Siskey! [whistles loudly]
Siska: [puzzled] Hiking lady?
Me: [relief] Yes!
Siska: [still puzzled] Where are you Hiking Lady? Lady-who-owns-the-handbag-full-of-sausage-roll-dog-treats and Lady-who-smells-of-baby-powder are both here but I don't see you.
Me: Well, I am rather far away. I'm talking to you over the cellphone. You know, the boxy thing that looks like a toy but isn't.
Siska: Ohhhhh
Me: So, how are you?
Siska: Same old, same old. When you've been on the inside as long as I have...
Me: Yes, about that...
Siska: You lied.
Me: Well, it wasn't a lie exactly...
Siska: You lied.
Me: You exaggerate.
Siska: [does remarkable subliminal imitation of Liz's gooey Siska voice] What a good girl you are! You deserve a holiday. Yes you do, yes you do. And because you're a special doggy who deserves a holiday I'm sending you away on an all expenses paid trip to the Ryslip Hotel and Country Club. Five star accomodation, meals, hiking trails, new toys, tons of food.
Me: [defensively] You get fed!
Siska: You lied. You put me in a wooden box and the next thing I know I'm being unloaded at the "hotel", except its labelled quarantine facility! And the people talk funny! [wails] They called me fat!
Me: Calm down...
Siska: You lied.
Me: Ok, ok so I lied. It was for your own good. And you can't tell me you're not having a good time.
Siska: [sniffs] I guess not.
Me: [patiently] How's Squeak?
Siska: He's all right. He likes it here and he has a new friend. Lady-who-owns-the-handbag-full-of-sausage-roll-dog-treats brought a new one. She keeps saying he's orange. Could you tell her I'm colour-blind? But he's very nifty. And I have my bone, and my balls, and my rope and my bed and everybody loves me here.
Me: Way to be modest, Siskey.
Siska: It's not my fault I'm beautiful. Lady-who-owns-the-handbag-full-of-sausage-roll-dog-treats, Lady-who-smells-of-baby-powder, Man-who-likes-to-terrorise-me and Other-man-who-looks-at-them-all-like-they're-mad tell me so all the time.
Me: [mutters] We've created a monster.
Siska: There are dogs here, you know.
Me: Really? At a kennel? How odd.
Siska: I've never been a dog person.
Me: Strange that.
Siska: They're very loud.
Me: So shout back.
Siska: Oh, I do. The book club is great. Then there's the music forum. And a Toys We have Loved retrospective. We have a debate every day...
Me: [interrupts] A debate? You're a bunch of dogs. What could you possibly have opinions on?
Siska: [huffily] Excuse me, we are a bunch of dogs from all over the world. We discuss lots of stuff. Lots of important stuff.
Me: Like?
Siska: Uh...we discussed what kind of cat George W Bush is like. Why vacuum cleaners are scary. Whether retrieving sticks makes us smart or makes us slaves. Begging: the ends justify the means. Stuff.
Me: Who's a clever girl?
Siska: [smugly] Oh, stop.
Me: I have to go. I'm sorry I lied.
Siska: That's all right. I really like it here. It's better than the big farm in the sky.
Me: Ok, go get Squeak!
Siska: [...]

PATTOTE: Better living through black labradors with toys on the brain.

Singularly Uninspired

I know, I know...my propoganda has come to a grinding halt, but even future dictators get writer's block (although we usually have our spindoctors, er, eliminated, for it). So in the interest of assuring you all that I am alive, here is a little roundup:

Where am I?
I'm sitting at my desk, waiting for the Fuhrer to finish up pg 1, so that I can collect the newspaper and send it to the printers before I get a worried phonecall from them, tsktsking about printruns and distribution.

What am I doing?
You mean, other than quickly scrolling through the windows I have open on my desktop to pretend I'm working? Nothing.

What is next on the list?
It's either going to be collect, distil and send, or make a cup of tea and hide out with the admin staff. I'm leaning towards the tea.

What have I been listening too?
A group called The Weepies. Their discordant harmoniousness rules.

What have I been watching?
A lot of crap on DStv that I would usually refrain from, but it's there.

Where do I find the time?
Well, I'm dogsitting in a big-ass house and that much space is kind of making me nervous. And a little paranoid. And a little insomniac. So, I've been watching a lot of Wildlife SOS and Pet Rescue in addition to slavering over BBC Food. And Supernanny. And It's Me or The Dog. The latter make me worry about the future of humanity and plan my island sanctuary in more detail.

And when you're not watching crap?
I'm reading Cold Mountain and admiring Jude Law in my head. Lord of the Rings is up next. Again.

Immediate plans for the future?
To go home. Enjoy my day off tomorrow. Eat my colleague's sundried tomato and pesto dip. Put petrol in my car. See the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie. Watch a dvd called Gaia for work and write a pithy review of it. Remember to go back to my place to pick up my shampoo and said dvd.

Next week, we're back with a vengeance with a review of Cold Mountain, a transcript of the phone conversation I intend to have with the dog on Saturday and perhaps pics of the entire "putting a newspaper together" process. Never say I'm not devoted to the education of the masses.

PATTOTE: Better living, through, um, something. Sorry, the situation of spindoctor is still vacant. And takers?

The Incomparable Jasper Fforde

Right now I'm reading The Big Over Easy by Jasper Fforde, a cautionary tale from the Nursery Crime Division of Reading Central Police. Reading, it seems, is the hub of nursery tale activity, with gingerbreadmen committing heinous crimes, and the Three Little Pigs getting off for the murder of one Mr Wolff. This is the first book in the series, and DI Jack Spratt and DS Mary Mary are investigating the mysterious death of Humpty Dumpty. Did he jump off the wall or was he pushed? I haven't figured that out yet but so far the book is very funny. There are tons of references (Humpty's landlady is Mrs Hubbard, and his next door neighbour is the narcoleptic Willie Winkie) and even more puns. I like them, they make me feel smart. The next one in this series is The Fourth Bear, and it features a blond who comes along and ruins the Bruin bear family's life. Heh!

The other series Fforde writes is much the same. The books feature a literary detective called Thursday Next. In the first book, The Eyre Affair, Next investigates the kidnapping of Jane Eyre and other literary characters. Fforde has created this awesome little world, where all that matters is books and the characters in them. Shakespeare fans have streetfights with Marlowe fans, and everybody takes bets at Shakespeare performances to see who will win the next fencing match. I'm going to start Lost in a Good Book as soon as I figure out who offed Humpty.

The writing is brilliant, and now that I've seen Reading, even funnier.

PATTOTE: Better living through anthropomorphised animals and unfzskably surreal situations.

Ruining the Mystery

I'm reading the new Nora Roberts book, Angels Fall. It's really, really good. I'm trying to figure out who the murderer is and, while I have my suspects, she's not giving anything away in this one. So all in all I should be enjoying this book experience.

Except the book is completely riddled with spelling, grammar and punctuation errors, and they're driving me crazy. It's really jarring to be ripped out of an atmospheric thriller because quotes are the wrong way round, the last letter of a given word has become the first letter of the next word, or, as in one memorable paragraph, words are missing completely. Sentences need conjunctions and prepositions people, it's not a voluntary thing.

If the story wasn't so good, and if it wasn't against my policy to dump books half way, it would be gathering dust somewhere. But I need to know who the murderer is.

PATTOTE: Better living through grammar nazis.

Blogging the Baby

Curtis-the-fetus arrived after concerted effort from his mother, who was pretty tired of being pregnant judging by the bored smses I've been receiving. I'm biased, but I think he's lovely.



Happy birthday Jamie Luke! I hope you grow up to like chickpeas, lentils, museums and Manchester United. And congratulations Juanita and Gareth. I'll stop calling your son Curtis now!

Why Dubbya should be gagged

Oh dear

So Bush makes an arse of himself again. Not only is his logic infallible - if Syria stops Hezbollah, then the fighting will end in Lebanon, nothing to do with Israel at all - he treats Blair like rubbish and talks over him. Chewing away, talking with food in his mouth, he insults Kofi Annan and almost makes it sound like Condi is on her way out (ousted or to Lebanon, who knows). This is a politician?

PATTOTE - Better living through a benevolent dictator who will keep the microphone off.

Literary bums

The Father sent me this email yesterday (punctuation his):

"Hi. I must tell you this quickly. About 07:30 this morning, one of the lesser-known-rough-sleepers came to Willow House asking if there was any chance of a cup of coffee. I said to him, that if he waited until 08:00 he could have breakfast. He then asked where I was from and I said: "South Africa". He went to his bag and took out a well-read, well-worn copy of Andre P Brink`s book [A Dry White Season]! Have a nice day. Love. Dad."

How cool is that?

PATTOTE - Better living through lesser-known-rough-sleepers with an eye for good reading.

Wha?! update

The Fuhrer suggested that the keyword search may have something to do with the song that plays when Shaun Pollock comes out to bowl or bat. For the person searching, the song is Nkalakatha by Mandoza. Just so you know.

Wha?!

Somebody recently found my blog searching on google's Australian site with the keywords "Shaun Pollock favourite song". Now, I'm a fan but his favourite song? Who in the what now?!

Zorro

I've just finished Zorro, by Isabel Allende. I enjoyed it immensely, as I have all her other books. Not only am I a fan of Zorro himself, but her recreation of his character is pretty flawless. Foppish, hypochondriac dandy by day; masked defender with whip by night.

Zorro has an unswerving sense of social justice and a sarcastic tongue, a lethal combination. Allende sets the scene, with the colonialisation of Mexico by Spain, the subsequent mistreatment of the the existing population, and the proselytising missionaries. Zorro himself is a mestizo, a half-bood, and it allows him to exist in both worlds. Each world gives him the knowledge he needs, but both worlds also need him.

I found Allende's matter of fact comments through the stories very amusing; her dry humour and practical opinions in the face of Zorro's flair for the dramatic brings the reader neatly down to earth.

There are two things I noticed about the novel. The first, that the story has a far more "western" flavour than, for instance, Portrait in Sepia and House of the Spirits. Of course, the story is following the character's life through North America and Spain so I guess it makes sense. It made her references to mysticism and magic more obvious. There was less innate acceptance and subtlety about different beliefs and more, "You are an outsider, so how could you ever really understand Zorro?"

The other thing is a minor quibble: after three quarters of a book dealing wih Diego's life, the climax was not particularly...climactic. Kind of a let down really.

Anyway, cool book. Read it.

How do vikings send secret messages?

With Norse code!

Licenced to uh...kill?

The Sister and Curtis-the-Fetus have passed their driver's licence. I say they have passed because The Sister said that the kid was whirling around the entire time. Probably in a flat spin (hah! pun!).

Here's hoping she doesn't perpetuate the family tradition of crashing into stationary beetles...

Well done Ms Ellis! I'm very proud.

The epitome of coolness...

...in my super-duper red hard hat.

And please - no comments about the size of this picture, I'm done battling with them.

High flying canine

It was with some trepidation and a few sniffles that I sent my beloved dog overseas today. She was fine, I was the mess. Her biggest concern was the fact that I packed up all her precious toys. While I was trying to hug her goodbye and, you know, bond, she was more interested in trying to get at the Pick 'n Pay packet carrying the precioussssesss. I will always have a vision of me sitting on the couch trying to tell her how I love her and how I'll miss her and her standing on the couch, front paws balanced on the back, trying to reach the table with her teeth, thinking: "Yes, yes, whatever. Now shut up and use those opposable thumbs."

The guy who came to pick her up was so kind, like he's used to overwrought owners plotting out worst case scenarios (I don' t accept his assertion, however, that doggy parachutes are illogical and expensive). The parting was short and sweet. She climbed into her crate with nary a whimper and just looked at me with her big trusting labrador eyes (drugged probably, rescue remedy will do that).

And then she was gone, her toys taped to the top of her crate, along with a sticker saying "One live labrador dog" - thank you SAA, I would like her to arrive like that.

PATTOTE - better living through little black dogs with very little brain.

The murky world of fanfiction

Ok, so I read fanfiction. Occasionally I might add, before Leigh starts in on her "you read Star Trek porn" spiel. The ghastly truth is that yes, I got into it through Star Trek. And can I just tell you that the world of fanfic is peopled with terrifying writers with varying degrees of talent. From the sad no-hopers who's prose clunks down upon us to the the fangirl squee-ers with their millions of !!!!!!!!!!!!!1111111!!!!!!!!!!!!! and ship names, you do sometimes get really brilliant fics, great stories in their own right, albeit based on someone else's imagination.

My forays to The Leaky Cauldron and Mugglenet in my endless quest for Harry Potter news also led me to this topic on The Werewolf Registry, which is a terrifying world all of its own. My favourite has to be the rip off of Japanese graphic novels. So awesome.

The net really is a wonderful scary place.

PATTOTE: Better living through clicking dodgy links.

Urban Legends

One of my blogline feeds is from an urban legends site which I find very entertaining. They covered two points that I found interesting.

1) The eagle's head on the US seal turns to the left in peacetime and the right in wartime.
Apparently this rumour really spread when Dan Brown wrote about it in Deception Point. According to snopes.com the eagle's head has changed direction in the past, from looking right (at the arrows it holds in its claw) to looking left (at the olive branch in its other claw). Or should that be talon? Anyway, the change everybody remembers was made by Truman after the Second World War. Documents predating that have the eagle staring right, but Truman decided that it fit the US post-war working for peace image to have it looking at the olive branch. The general populace (when they noticed) assumed it was a tradition, but it was a whim.

Speaking of US presidential whims, apparently the US missed the boat on going metric because Reagan couldn't understand how it worked...

2) There is a nine-letter English word that remains a word even as you remove succesive letters. Curious? It's startling. No, that's the word, startling.
Remove the l: starting
Remove the t: staring
Remove the a: string
Remove the r: sting
Remove the t: sing
Remove the g: sin
Remove the s: in
Remove the n: I

Heh!

PATTOTE: Better living through mindless trivia