Elementary School

The first part of my autobiography will be the hardest to write, obviously because I recall little from my earliest days. A lot of this will be me repeating what my mother has told me, along with some of my “memories of memories.” I’ve already written about being born in AL and raised in TN, in my essay, “States I’ve Visited.” I was my parents’ first child, five years older than my sister, Jennifer. I was born on March 26, 1976, and in the late 1970’s my parents rented a small house. My 3rd cousins John and Ryan Kress lived close by. In the early 80’s, my parents started building a new, larger house, the one they currently live in and I frequently visit. Some of my earliest memories are of kindergarten. “Daddy John” was the nickname we had for my maternal grandfather. On my first day of kindergarten, he brought me to school in his old black pickup truck. I remember thinking the first graders were cooler than us because they were older. I went to kindergarten at St. Joseph Elementary School, which no longer is a school, although the building is still there. The next year I started going to Loretto Elementary School for first grade. Around this time was when my sister, Jennifer, was born. The first three Star Wars movies came out around that time, and I was into them and the toys associated with them. My paternal grandmother would spoil me with gifts, and on the day of Jennifer’s birth, she bought me an action figure of a stormtrooper; I was more excited about that than having a sibling. Our second-grade classroom was in a little trailer. One thing I remember about second grade was learning to write in cursive. We already knew printed letters, and there were pictures on the wall of the printed letters and their cursive counterparts. I was a book-smart kid, so I’m sure I did well with that. This was around the time I met my lifelong friend, Greg. Because of my generous grandmother, I had a lot of Star Wars toys. I always brought them out during recess and let the other kids play with them. I fancied myself as the leader of the “Star Wars Club” of second grade. Some of the other kids played sports like baseball or softball during recess. One day, I decided to go play with them instead of doing Star Wars. I’ve never been very into sports so that was the only day I did that. I appointed Greg as temporary leader of the club during my absence. That’s one of the earliest memories I have of Greg; I’ll be writing more about him later. Third grade was the year of the 1984 Presidential election. It was Reagan vs. Mondale. My parents were Mondale supporters. We watched the election results come in class. Reagan won every state except one. Mondale only won his home state of MN.

Fourth grade was the year all the local elementary schools came together to form one, called South Lawrence Elementary. All the students voted on what two colors would be the school colors, which ended up being crimson and gold; many voted for crimson because of “Roll Tide,” the color of the University of Alabama’s football team. Fourth and fifth grades kind of blur together for me, because I had the same homeroom teacher for both years, Mrs. Davis. It was around this time that I started to hit pre-puberty and became more interested in girls. There were lots of girls I liked, but one in particular that I had the courage to ask on a date; her name was Gina. She rejected me, but since I had revealed to everyone that I liked her, I felt the freedom to be open about it from then on. The funny thing was that there were girls I thought were a lot prettier than she was; I didn’t even think she was that pretty at all. But I was too shy to admit that about them and had already done the hard part with her. The way I remember it, I made a big deal to everybody about how much I liked her. It must have been so awkward for her.
One teacher I had, not for homeroom, but for one of my classes, was Mr. Blair. My Mom was a teacher at the school, so I had to stay there with her until she got off work instead of riding the bus like most of the other students. During that after-school time, I would often go into Mr. Blair’s room and play chess with him. I was never able to beat him, and he has now passed away, so I never will. Although we were chess buddies, I would misbehave in his class. I was socially awkward, and out of desperation, thought that rebellion would help me fit in with the other kids. Looking back, I don’t think it helped much. It seems like my mindset on the situation with Mr. Blair was much like that with Gina. Once I had gotten in trouble with him the first time, I wasn’t scared to do it again. I had “broken the ice.” I always behaved with Mrs. Davis, because I never got through that first hurdle. Teachers would ask me why I was mean to one and nice to the other, and I couldn’t explain it; I’m just now starting to understand.

Although I was starting to be rebellious and interested in girls at this time, there still remained the loyalty and admiration for my parents that often goes away in one’s teenage years, as it did with me when I reached those years. My Dad was into auto racing, so I was as well. I even wrote a song about NASCAR driver Bill Elliott on my keyboard; here are the lyrics:
Bill Who
B-B-Bill Who Bill Who Bill Who
And when he wins, we say boo
B-B-Bill Who Bill Who
Wrecks all the time, earns him a dime
B-B-B-B-B-Bill Who Bill Who
Did you see that wreck Wild Bill had?
It was very, very, very, very bad
Now since when has this guy won?
That’s very, very good ques-ti-on
I don’t think he’s any good
I do not think that you really should
In 1988, we went to the Talladega 500. Our favorite driver was Darrell Waltrip, and to our delight, he led most of the laps of the race, but to our dismay, his engine blew up very near the end. Many fans just got up and left after that happened. There was one long-haired kid there with his Dad who had headphones on, listening to heavy metal, uninterested in the race. I couldn’t believe he didn’t care anything about the race that his Dad cared so much about. Little did I know that I’d be a lot more like him in a few years.

Sixth grade was where we moved to a different section of the school that had all the older kids. Mr. Hardwick was my home-room teacher. Our class had a chess tournament, and because of my passion for the game, I was highly competitive. It came down to the championship game between me and Jay Andrews. He made a silly mistake and I beat him, earning the title of Sixth Grade Chess Champion. Jay passed away a few years ago. Being a book-smart nerd with less-than-average social skills, chess was something that naturally appealed to me. Politics was another nerdy thing that interested me and that I’d try to discuss with teachers and students, surely to their annoyance, however oblivious I was at the time. Hopefully I can read people better now in my maturity.

Seventh grade was when my taste in music started to change. Up until then, I mostly listened to pop, maybe a little country. My cassette collection included Whitney Houston, Stevie Wonder, Huey Lewis and the News, Lionel Richie, Kenny Rogers, Billy Idol, Beastie Boys, and others. Bon Jovi was one of the first cassettes I had that may have started my transition into “metal.” Since I was a nerd who made good grades, I perhaps associated more with preps, even though I didn’t really fit in with them. But in 7th grade I started talking more to misfits who smoked cigarettes (among other things) and listened to rebellious music. It may have been Brian McLaughlin who let me hear a cassette of Appetite for Destruction by Guns N’ Roses. This was the first time I’d heard any music with cursing on it, and I was shocked. Glam rock was getting more popular, and GN’R was sort of a part of that. I started to get more into those bands and rejecting the pop of my previous years. I added Faster Pussycat, Kix, Motley Crue, The Cult, Winger, White Lion, and others to my tape collection.

Eighth grade had me going more and more into the direction of glam metal. Having taken piano and acoustic guitar lessons, I already was inclined to play music, and when I went to Brian McLaughlin’s house and heard him playing GN’R songs, I was amazed. I had to get an electric guitar and an amp for myself. I talked my Dad into getting them for me. The amp had distortion from a busted speaker, and I loved it. There were sounds you could make that you couldn’t do on acoustic. I had a future ahead of me that consisted of reading guitar magazines and tablature books, learning the songs of my favorite metal bands. I was also getting into solo guitarists like Steve Vai and Joe Satriani. My Dad took my friend Greg and me to see Bela Fleck and the Flecktones. That was my first concert. Shortly after that, he took us to see Motley Crue’s Dr. Feelgood tour, with Lita Ford opening. That was in 1990. The Crue show was quite a culture shock, not what my Dad was expecting. They cursed a lot, and Tommy Lee mooned the crowd.

High School

Motley Crue played a big part of my freshman year in high school. I had the Dr. Feelgood shirt I got from the concert, and I wore it all the time. If you look at an old yearbook, you’ll see that everybody had mullets and Motley Crue shirts, so that helped me fit in, I guess. I still had the stigma of being a nerd though, and people made fun of me because I went with my Dad. Times were changing, and MTV was playing different things than before; it was time for another one of my musical transitions. The first time I saw the video for Antisocial by Anthrax, I thought it was the heaviest thing I’d ever heard. I ran out and got the cassette State of Euphoria. Greg and I wore that tape out, so much that all the print wore off it. We loved every song except Make Me Laugh, which I thought was sacrilegious. Looking back, I don’t think it was. It’s only making fun of TV preachers. I started getting into heavier music, and then grunge came along, turning me on to punk as well.

The first actual band that I was that wasn’t rigged up some kind of way with a drum machine and keyboard, but actually had drums, bass, guitar, and amps, was Melvins Head Trip. Looking back, that seems cool for a first band. My band members were Rayburn Wisdom, Stacy Fleeman, and Billy Redd. Rayburn is now a super-Republican redneck. He did a total 180 from the skater-punk that he was before. How bizarre! Stacy is dead. Billy is religious now. This band was my first introduction to the Lawrenceburg punk/alternative scene. We played a show at Crockett Theater in Lawrenceburg with other bands. Brian McLaughlin and Jonathan Huntley were in one of the bands. Teen Idols, Septic Tank, and Witcher may have been some of the other bands if I remember correctly. My parents were there and made me quit the band after that because of some of the things Stacy said onstage about LSD.

One place that my friends Greg, Tim Henkel, and Mark Hartsfield went to frequently was the Skating Rink in Leoma. It was a place younger kids went to but was thought of as uncool for older kids to go to. Calvin Moore, the politician, owned the place and his daughter Casey, who everybody had a crush on, would sometimes work there. She hung out with some of the Lawrenceburg alternative people. Some people skated but a lot of guys just went there to meet girls. There was a half-pipe in the back that skateboarders like Rayburn used. One night at the skating rink, I met Misty Kimbrell and Amanda McGee. They asked me if I was into alternative music and if I played. They told me they knew some guys in Lawrenceburg who had a band and that they could hook me up with them. I got in touch with one of the band members and agreed to meet them for an audition. The name of the band was Fantastic Suicide Machine. I met the bass player, Rafiale Borden, at a gas station on the south end of town. We rode to the drummer’s house in Raf’s car. Dirt by Alice in Chains was playing on his stereo. I met the rest of the band members. Eric Dick on vocals, Brad Layfield on drums, and me on guitar. It was a punk band in the style of the Misfits with almost all the songs written by Eric. This was my real introduction to Lawrenceburg’s alternative scene. A lot of them hung out at Ron Overton’s house, and Raf lived there for a while. One night, when I was hanging out there, Raf convinced me to try weed for the first time. I’d been around people using it and turning it down for a while. His argument was that all the great musicians used drugs. It stimulated your creativity. I argued against that for a while but eventually caved in. I was seventeen at the time. Once I started weed, I was off and running. All my friends smoked weed except for Tim Henkel. I was almost done with high school when I started smoking, and when I graduated high school and turned 18, that freed me up to do a lot more partying.

After High School

I hung out in different social circles, all centered around rock n’ roll. I had a band in Summertown with Sam Roy and Shane Matney called Lady Space. I had a band in Loretto with Greg Masterson and Michael Hartsfield called Insanity. After Fantastic Suicide Machine dissolved, I joined another Lawrenceburg band with Eric Dick, Ben Becker, and Darrell Dickey called Dick. We played a horrible show at The Farm in Summertown, opening for the new, 3-piece lineup of Melvins Head Trip, with the late Shane Olmstead on drums. After that show, Ben quit the band, causing it to dissolve. Things rocked along like that for a while. I was smoking a lot, and since smoking sometimes made me paranoid, I was drinking more and more to counteract that. But I was not 21 yet, so I had to find places that wouldn’t card me. My go-to place was a drive-thru in Dunn, between Loretto and Lawrenceburg.
I remember my first-time buying alcohol legally, on my 21st birthday. I probably went to work at Kress Auto Parts during the day, and then, after work was done, I went with my parents to Ricatoni’s in Florence for a birthday dinner. I can’t remember if my sister went with us. When we got back, I went to a beer store in St. Joseph and bought a six pack of Bud Ice Light bottles. The guy carded me and told me “happy birthday.” I hung out with David Gieske that night. I don’t remember what we did. David Gieske and Chad Benefield were my neighbors (I was still living with my parents.), so I did a lot of drinking and partying with them.

I went to more concerts during the years 1996 and 1997 than I ever have in my life. Sometimes I would go with Greg, Phillip Purser (nicknamed Pusser), and the Loretto crowd, and sometimes I’d go with the Lawrenceburg crowd. Greg’s parents were letting him live by himself in his childhood home, a place where I’d visited many times as a kid, and we started partying there regularly. Greg and Michael Hartsfield had a falling out, so Insanity dissolved. Greg and I got Pusser to take Michael’s place on drums, and our new band was called Simple Hatred. At one point, Greg let me move into that house. The house stayed messy and filthy all the time. I was going back and forth between the Lawrenceburg and Loretto crowds, sometimes bringing LSD down to Loretto from Lawrenceburg. At one point, the Loretto crowd discovered you could trip on Robitussin and a lot of us started doing that. The “Robo trips” were pretty intense and started to get out of hand. The only rule Greg had for his house was no Robo tripping when he wasn’t there. Well, I ended up breaking his only rule and got kicked out. I stayed at Pusser’s apartment for a while but eventually ended up moving back in with my parents. I still jammed with Insanity after the move out though. Around that time, I started jamming with Raf and Doug Corey in Bodenham. We named our band Psycho Stone. One night, Raf and Doug came over to Greg’s house and we had a jam with two drummers, two bass players, and me on guitar. I was starting to hang out more frequently with Raf, and he had had a falling out with some of the members of the Lawrenceburg scene, so that in effect caused me to alienate from that scene as well. In 1998, Raf started working at Avex Electronics in Pulaski and said he could get me a job there and I could live with him in his Bodenham trailer, so I quit my job at Kress Auto Parts and started doing that. We worked a lot of overtime. I remember working 72 hours one week. At that time, it was the most hours I’d worked in a week and the biggest paycheck I’d ever got. One weekend, Raf and I drove down to Counts Brothers Music in Muscle Shoals. I bought a cream-colored Mexican Strat that I still own. Raf bought a large bass cabinet to play his Hohner fretless bass through. We jammed with a few drummers for a while but couldn’t find one that would stay. We rocked along for a while, but I was getting tired of being around Raf all the time. I eventually moved back in with my parents. A while after that, I had a nervous breakdown and quit Avex. The economy was great in the late 90s, and I never had any trouble finding a job, but I couldn’t hold one for long, never longer than a year. My next job was at Arvin, a factory in the same industrial park as Avex. Pusser’s sister, Brenda, worked there, also. I hung out with her quite a lot, we both loved smoking weed, but I drank a lot more than she did. We probably rode to work together a few times, especially considering I’d wrecked my 1988 LeBaron several times and finally totaled it out. I had to borrow my Grampa’s Explorer to drive to work. There was a musician named Jon Paw working there who I hung out with a few times. He had recorded a CD. I introduced him to Raf, and we hung out at Phillip Nash’s house one night. Brenda hated Jon Paw’s CD. She said, “Jon Paw sucks.” It was either during the Avex or Arvin days that we started jamming with Moose. Brenda gave me a ride from Arvin to Moose’s house one night after work. I’d told her it wasn’t far out of the way, but halfway there, she started complaining about it being too far. Our band with Moose was called Unknown. I eventually quit my job at Arvin and started working in different factories in Lawrenceburg. Some of those were Tridon, Jones Apparel, North American Container, and Graphics Packaging. Raf had a falling out with Moose and we started jamming with Pusser. The name of the band with Pusser was 7 Hrs. So, we rocked along like that for a while.

Marijuana Maintenenance
At some point in 1999, I decided I had a drinking problem. I’d made a fool of myself a few times, couldn’t hold a job, I’d wrecked all my cars, and was still living with my parents, so I went on the marijuana maintenance program. I just smoked weed and did everything every other drug besides alcohol.
When Y2K was approaching, I’d wrecked all my cars, so I begged my Dad to lend me the car he was letting me use to drive to whatever job I had at the time to go to Philip Nash’s New Year’s Eve party. I wasn’t drinking, but we smoked a lot of weed. Raf was putting what was supposed to be peyote cactus in his ounce sized joints. I didn’t trip but I got really high. So, the 90s were over and the new millennium had begun.
My grandfather, Daddy John, died on Mar. 24, 2000, two days before my birthday, and the funeral was on my birthday. I was working at Graphics Packaging when I got the news of his death. I told my cousin, Jon Pettus, about it, and he at first thought I was talking about my other grandfather, who was related to him. Raf was living at these horrible, cheap apartments in Lawrenceburg with a shared toilet. I left him a note saying that I couldn’t hang out, jam, or whatever, because of the death. Raf and Greg both came to the funeral. I was a pallbearer at the funeral. I cried my eyes out.

7 Hrs. recorded a CD at Jeff Quillen’s recording studio in 2000. Pusser was having mental problems at this time. He acted like he had voices in his head, so everybody believed he was insane. He overplayed on drums, got way out of time, and never would end a song properly. We would take breaks from the recording session to go smoke weed, coming back reeking. We never got any really good takes because of Pusser. The songs we put on the CD were “Nowhere to Run,” “Wouldja,” “Drag You Down,” and “Cactus Juice.” 7 Hrs. finally dissolved when Pusser and Raf had a falling out.

Around 2001, Raf started dating Angela Durham. She fixed me up with S—— -—-, and we dated for about two months. I was working at KFC when I first started dating her, but soon lost that job and just kind of bummed around at her mom’s house all the time. One night, we went to one of Phillip Nash’s parties. I was still not drinking, and she was not supposed to because she was diabetic. She did though and ended up having to go to the hospital. Phillip used the drinking incident as an excuse to go to her and apologize for getting her drunk, and he used that as a way to get in good with her. She ended up dumping me for him. I was heartbroken, but Angela fixed me up with A—– -—— on the rebound.

The next band I was in, around 2002 or 2003, was Roy’s Machine. I was hanging out with David Gieske and he took me to Roy Smith’s house. There was a trailer out back where a bunch of black guys were jamming. Roy didn’t play an instrument, but he was like the band manager. He died shortly after I joined the band, so they named it in his honor. They were into the Isley Brothers and Al Green. We learned some covers and played at a VFW bar in Lawrenceburg.

Off The Wagon
Around 2003, I started back drinking. My parents had had enough and would not let me stay at their house anymore, so I moved in with Raf. Raf found out that his wife was cheating on him with Moose and other people. He was enraged. He expected loyalty from me as a friend, which meant I shouldn’t be hanging out with Moose. But I was still writing, recording, and smoking weed with Moose. One night I had Moose in the car with me in Lawrenceburg, and Raf pulled up next to us at the red light, so I was exposed. Raf hated me, but I still lived with him. I soon moved out of Raf’s and into a duplex across the street from Loretto High School. I was working at North American Container in Lawrenceburg at the time. Gieske came and asked if he could move in. I was a pushover, so I let him. He never helped with the rent or anything much at all. The cops were called once and there were a few other problems, so I left there and moved in with Jimbo James. His house was right down the road from Pusser, who walked over all the time, and across the street from Greg, who I didn’t see much because he was sober. We were always partying over there, and at some point, C—— -—- started coming over there and partying with us. I’d known her for several years at this point, originally from hanging out with the Lawrenceburg crowd. She and Misty would ride around with me a lot and get stoned. I was excited about being reunited because I had always had a crush on her. Jimbo let her and her two twin boys move in with us. I was happy about this, but Jimbo got fed up with her and finally kicked her out. After that, she moved in with Raf. Then Jimbo moved out and was going to let me continue living at the house, but I quit my job and couldn’t make rent. I started crashing at different people’s houses and sleeping in my truck, until I finally agreed to go to Discovery Place to get sober.

Sobriety

On July 27, 2004, I was sleeping in my truck in my parents’ driveway, when my uncle Chris pulled up and asked me if I wanted to go to rehab. He’d just gone there and gotten sober a few months earlier. I said yes. I stayed there for a month, and when I got out, I moved back in with my parents. After I’d been out for a while, I started job hunting. One day, I drove the brown Oldsmobile Cutlass my Dad found for me down to Kelly Services, a temp place in Florence, to apply for a job. Greg came along with me. They had a job for me at Sara Lee. This was going to be a new chapter of my life. I’d spent a lot of my partying days in Lawrenceburg, not knowing many people in Florence, and I was going to spend much of my sobriety in Florence, alienating from the Lawrenceburg crowd. It seemed like a lot of people at Sara Lee liked to bully me. One of the worst people to do this was Marty McLaughlin. I still lived at home in Loretto, and he lived at home in Greenhill, which was between Loretto and Florence, so one day he asked if I wanted to carpool. I reluctantly said yes. I just couldn’t stand Marty though, and didn’t like riding with him, so I asked my “spiritual advisor,” Howard Jeffries, what I should do. He said to stop riding with him. It was this bullying that made me decide to go back to the University of North Alabama, where I went for a short time in ’96 and ’97. The first class I took after my long absence was pre-calculus. I seemed to be the only one there who was interested in the subject. I would stay after and ask the teacher questions. I made an A in that class. After I was sober for eleven months, I decided to stop smoking. At that point I’d been smoking for about fifteen years, so it was difficult. I started out using nicotine lozenges, but since you couldn’t have gum or candy inside Sara Lee, I switched to the patch. I went exactly by the directions on the box, never cheating. The patch kind of wires you up, like having a buzz; you will have bizarre dreams if you wear it while sleeping. It was a successful tool; I haven’t had a cigarette since then. I was a temp at Sara Lee for over two years before I finally went full time. That was probably because I just never applied for any positions up until then. When I got hired, I got to move to another department, away from Marty, but to my dismay, there were unpleasant people there too. My new job title was “backup bag-line operator.” After finishing my pre-calculus class at UNA, I switched to the local community college, NWSCC, because it was cheaper and easier. I was on first shift, so I took night classes and decided to major in accounting. I didn’t have home internet at the time, so I’d go into the NWSCC computer lab and do Myspace in there. I wasn’t playing in a band at the time; I was recording instrumental guitar music with a drum machine. I would upload that music to Myspace and then add as many friends as possible to share it with. Guitar Player magazine found one of my songs and featured it in a column.
On my thirtieth birthday, I went out to eat with my family to a Chinese restaurant in Florence. My parents, grandpa, Uncle Chris, his girlfriend Rhonda ,and her daughters Chelsea and Lakesha all went.

Life While Working At HON
Sara Lee was the first job I’d ever had, other than Kress Auto Parts, where I’d lasted longer than a year. But I eventually got too stressed out and had to quit Sara Lee. I had some money saved, so after I quit, I laid low for a while, just staying at the house in a depression. I finally got a bit out of that funk and started looking for another job. The first job I took was a construction job helping build a baseball field close to McFarland Park. I’d never done that kind of work before, and according to them, I didn’t know what I was doing, so they let me go before the end of the first day. Next, I worked a few days at Young Welding Supply. They were paying me around $8 per hour and I got an offer to work at HON for $8.25 so I went there. I would stay at that company, making office furniture, for over five years, until the plant shut down. My first job there was in a practice cell, not actually doing anything, just assembling parts and breaking them down over and over. Then I got moved to the “Park Avenue” department, which would be my home for several years. I worked in assembly for a couple days until my supervisor came to ask me about my machine operator experience at Sara Lee, then he sent me to train on the edge bander with Stacy Vickery, a guy who’d been working there since the 80’s. Stacy was a nice guy, really into Alabama football, which I didn’t care anything about, so that made things kind of awkward sometimes. After Stacy was done training me, I ran the edge bander by myself for a few weeks or months, then, the operator of Weeke #2, one of the CNC machines, started missing a lot of days. She was a skinny woman with masculine features. Everyone assumed she was a lesbian. On the many days that she didn’t show up to work, I’d take her spot on the machine. Those days grew in number, and she eventually quit, so I became her permanent replacement. There were two Weekes, and my Weeke #2 was right across from Weeke #1. Since I was to become the permanent Weeke #2 operator, I needed to do some training with one of the more experienced operators. I was on 2nd shift, but I moved to 1st shift for two weeks to train with their Weeke #1 operator. One of the main things you had to avoid as an operator was cutting pods, and I cut them a lot, unfortunately. The first shift guy never cut them, and a couple times when he walked away and left me to run the machine, I’d accidentally cut one of his pods. It was frustrating. When I returned to second shift, I was on my own. The first shift Weeke #2 operator’s name was Regis, and I would converse with him in between shifts. He ran the machine faster than me and didn’t cut many pods. Most factories have quite a bit of turnover, and even though there were some decades long veterans there, that wasn’t the case for most of the employees, so I saw a few different second shift Weeke #1 operators during my time on second shift Weeke #2. The first guy’s name was Chase. He was kind of a blowhard. He was casually dating one of our coworkers, a black woman named Tina. He had rebel flags and could still date a mildly attractive black woman. Go figure. He was always talking about drinking and partying. Since I didn’t do that anymore, I didn’t really participate in those conversations. He’d give me a hard time about not partying, but I never said anything about being alcoholic because I didn’t like to talk about it for fear of what people would think. He would do triceps press downs on the worktable when he wasn’t busy. I was working out at the time (which I’ll get to later) but didn’t think it was effective to do exercises at random times. I always limited my exercises to a scheduled workout. We had a short layoff, and when we came back, Chase didn’t cooperate fully with the request to return, so he was fired. One of the next guys was a guy who had an Alabama Roll Tide shirt that had been washed to make it look pink instead of red. We used to cut up a lot, maybe a little too much. Michael Jackson had just died and was in the news all the time. He loved to make fun of him and his pet chimp, Bubbles, and I joked with him about that throughout the day. My boss, Jason, came to me one day and told me I wasn’t running enough parts because I was talking to that guy too much. I guess he was right. He eventually got too many attendance points and got fired. The next Weeke #1 operator was a black guy named Gabriel. Like a lot of the people at HON, he liked to drink, among other things, maybe a little too much. I became friends with him, sometimes giving him a ride to or from work, going to lunch with him, and occasionally seeing him outside of work. Ray, the edge bander operator with an associate’s degree in liberal arts, was our mutual friend. The three of us would sometimes take backroads to Jack’s on lunch break. They would also go to the store and get beers that they would shotgun before going back to work. Ray drank a lot, so much that his face was always red.

Around this time as well as years prior to and after, I got into bodybuilding. I’d bounced around from one gym to the next in the Florence area, but one of my mainstays was Gold’s Gym in downtown Florence. I was trying to get big and strong, with my main focus on improving my bench press. I’d always lift my butt way off the bench, which is technically cheating. I’d ask people at the gym to spot me. I never wanted them to touch the bar because then I wouldn’t know for sure if I was lifting it all on my own, but sometimes they’d put their hands under the bar and say “It’s all you!” I never knew if they were lying or not. I’d been skinny all my life, so I wasn’t concerned about fat loss. There was a lot of bro-science going around back then, and I heard a lot of different opinions about my progress. I saw people in the gym putting up insane amounts of weight, and I wanted to be on that level. I wish I new then what I know now about that stuff. I could’ve been in excellent shape like I am now. I spent a lot of money on supplements that probably weren’t helping and ate a lot of food for “dirty bulk,” which probably added way more fat than muscle. I think “dirty bulk” is a myth. You can add muscle as long as you get enough protein.

Jennifer had her first child, Colin, after she’d been married to Chip Hudson for a few years. I didn’t get to be there for the birth because I was working at the time. Somehow, I got a picture of Colin on my flip phone. It’s funny how I can forget how old technology used to work once it becomes obsolete. One day, my family and I went up to Jennifer and Chip’s house in Spring Hill, TN, to see the baby. It was me, Mom, Dad, and Grandpa in the car for the ride. They had a nice, big, house that I was in awe of. The size of that house motivated me to work harder in college so I could get a career and have a house like that one day. Well, that didn’t pan out, but that’s ok; I don’t care that much about houses anymore. I held the baby for a photo and Grandpa held the baby. Chip had Mike Tyson’s Punch Out on Nintendo and I played that for a while. I used to be obsessed with that game and realized in that moment how primitive the technology was compared to the current time. Chip’s mom was there when we visited. It was a pleasant and fun trip spending quality time with family.

Toward the end of first decade of the new millennium, I met a girl on Plenty of Fish named J——-. We seemed to hit it off well at first. She was into music and a big fan of the Red-Hot Chili Peppers. I wasn’t as big an RHCP fan as she was, but I grew up on them and was familiar with their body of work. She took a liking to me because I could play guitar and sing. I was still only a few years sober and wasn’t part of any music scene because of the presence of drugs and alcohol, but I didn’t have any problem hanging out with her even though she drank all the time. One thing that I’ve found with fangirls of certain bands: If you can play and sing songs by those bands, they become attracted to you. I learned “Under the Bridge.” I tried to show her some stuff on guitar but that didn’t work out. She liked to go to bars with her girlfriend(s) and I would accompany them. We would go out to eat, go to the movies, and go bowling. Looking back on it, it seems like that kind of socializing was a waste of time. On New Year’s, I brought in the 2010’s at a bar with her and her girlfriend. My coworker, Ray, was also at that bar that night. She thought we had a good time, but I didn’t really have a good time. Since I didn’t drink, I didn’t fit in with the crowd. Part of that has to do with people thinking you’re judging them for doing something you don’t do, but I’m also not a fan of hyper-social situations unless there’s some kind of agenda. I never called her my girlfriend, and I think she was wanting me to do that. It was obvious things were going nowhere, and it took a while before she finally broke it off with me. What a relief!

My late grandfather started Kress Auto Parts in 1950, and in 2010, they had a 60th Anniversary car show. This was a big deal for my family, and I was expected to go. I had a good time. That was only ten years ago, and I can think of three people there who are no longer with us: H—– ——–, C—— —–, and my late grandfather, Louis Kress. Having not seen C—— since I’d gotten sober, I was surprised when she showed up there. I hardly recognized her. She used to be so pretty, but drugs had taken their toll on her, she had lost too much weight, and her face no longer had that glow. She told me she was here with her “old man.” Do you know how when you’re around somebody a lot that they can sometimes seem to take you for granted? But when you spend time apart and then reunite, they are so much more affectionate? “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” I guess. That’s kind of how it was with her. I was in love with her, and I would sometimes try to hug her. She’d hug me back, but she never initiated it, and she acted like she thought it was weird. But when I saw her at the car show, she immediately approached me and hugged me. Then, when she and her old man were getting ready to leave, she gave me a goodbye hug. That was the last time I saw here alive. During our brief reunion, I told her about my studying to be an accountant. I was trying to portray to her that I was doing something with my life and wasn’t a loser anymore like when I was hanging out with her. Alas, we wouldn’t be hanging out together anymore since I was sober, and her life revolved around alcohol and drugs.

However, my friend Greg was a born-again Christian and was therefore sober, so I would be hanging out with him more. Although I’m not religious, something I have in common with many religious types is a drug-free lifestyle. This lifestyle, in combination with growing up on the same bands, gave us much common ground indeed. My attention at the time was focused on things like college and fitness, shifting away from music and concerts, but Greg talked me into going to see some of these legacy bands we grew up on, even though I was reluctant to go. In August of 2010, we went to see Slayer, Megadeth, and Anthrax in Knoxville, TN. We checked into our hotel, took a bus to the concert venue, and got our seats. Anthrax was going to be the first band. Greg said of Anthrax that it was “20 years in the making,” because we both first started listening to them in the early-90’s. Even though I wasn’t excited about the concert, when Anthrax came on, my feelings suddenly changed. I remembered why I loved concerts so much. These mythical creatures, who I’d only heard on cassette or seen on video, were solidified as real, and I was part of that reality, no longer a distant viewer. Although Greg and I had seen Anthrax with John Bush during their heyday with that singer, Joey Belladonna was now back with them, and he was the singer on State of Euphoria, the album that originally got us into them and thrash metal in general.

In December of 2011, we went to see another one of our childhood bands, Guns N’ Roses, in Nashville, TN. Before we went to the concert, I visited Greg’s apartment where he stayed with his then wife, Bethany. He wanted to work on recording some of the songs he’d written. We started getting into the songs and I wasn’t happy with the way they sounded. Greg fancied himself a singer, but his vocals weren’t very melodic. I started making suggestions to improve the songs, and Greg got angry. He said, “Fuck you, they’re my songs.” Of course, he had asked me to participate in this endeavor, and I felt I had a vested interest. Another thing he started doing was coming up with criticisms for me as a reaction to my sincere constructive criticism. I notice that people will sometimes do that. But I digress, because just writing this is making me angry. We went on to the concert and it was amazing. GN’R played for three hours.

UNA

When I graduated from Northwest Shoals Community College, I didn’t attend the ceremony, but I was ready to start Junior level classes at the University of North Alabama and knew that the business and accounting classes would be more challenging than what I was used to. My supervisor at HON, Jason Williams, was a graduate of UNA with a major in accounting, and he was one of the people who warned me of this difficulty. I was anxious but eager. I wanted this degree badly. I was familiar with basic accounting concepts because of the classes I took at NWSCC, but that was a few semesters ago, so I thought I should refamiliarize myself with those ideas to prep for intermediate accounting. I spent hours in the basement on UNA’s library refamiliarizing myself before the Intermediate Accounting I class started. I was hardcore. Accounting was only one of the difficult business classes I would need to take to obtain my degree. I had a full-time job during my college career, so I never took more than two classes per semester, but those two classes usually occupied a lot of my time. I had to study a lot, and didn’t like doing it at home, so I would spend most of my time in the library. I love UNA Library. There were two girls in my business classes who I became friends with and studied with a lot. They were Samantha Schmidt and Ly Le. There were a lot of girls in college and studying gave us an excuse to hang out together, usually at the library. Our relationships rarely went further than studying, but I didn’t care. I was enjoying myself just doing that. Not long into Intermediate Accounting, I realized I was going to need a lot of time to study for the exams. For some reason, I guess because I just didn’t pay attention to a lot of things back then, I was ignorant of the vacation days I had at work, until Tina pointed it out to me and suggested I take them to study. So that’s what I did. I would take the day before my exam off and study the entire day, for 12+ hours, but I took a lot of breaks during that time. For me, the library made what would otherwise be boring, studying, something fun and interesting. You never knew who you would see coming in there, coworkers, people you knew around town, classmates, people from Tennessee, professors, recovery group members, musicians, and anybody else who just decided to walk in. Also, I liked the ambiance of the library and still do. I made a B on my first Intermediate Accounting exam. It was one of the higher grades in the class, and Samantha was curious of how I ended up scoring that high. (It was because I spent a million hours studying.) That’s when we started studying together. We’d meet in the library at 8 or 9 and go to class at 11. After that, I had to be at work at 2:30. It may have been in Intermediate I that I met Ly. She was an exchange student from Vietnam and worked at Einstein Bagels in the UNA cafeteria. She didn’t have a car, so I’d pick her up and drive her around places. I studied with both Samantha and Ly separately for a while, and on one of my 12-hour study days, I studied with Samantha in the morning and Ly in the afternoon. I felt nervous and excited about this for no good reason. I finally told them about each other, and the three of us studied together a few times. I don’t think they ever became close though.

Intermediate II obviously followed Intermediate I. This is considered by many to be the hardest business class you’ll ever take on any level. Other hard classes were Tax and Auditing. I participated in every extracurricular activity I could, including Accounting Scholars and Save First Tax Preparation. Samantha and Ly were both in Accounting Scholars. I was really into reading, and Accounting Scholars assigned us a reading project of Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell. I was into genre fiction at the time, so I didn’t appreciate it as much as I would now. We talked about the book in one of our meetings. Since I was so enthusiastic about school, reading, and all things intellectual, I was eager to talk about the book and did, showcasing my knowledge. I probably embarrassed some of the students who claimed they didn’t get a chance to read it. Tax prep was fun too. People would come there to get their taxes done for free, and the students were supposed to do it for them, but we weren’t very competent, at least I wasn’t. I was hoping that at least once, I’d be able to finish somebody’s taxes all on my own, but that never happened. Every single time, I had to get one of the experts to come help me. There were two Chinese exchange students in there who were friendly. One of them was named Fan Feng. I can’t remember the other’s name. Most exchange students didn’t have cars, so they were always needing a ride, and I’d take them wherever they needed to go.

I made B’s in Intermediate I and II, and was ready for Tax and Auditing. Around this time, I got moved from second to third shift at HON, which fit my college schedule well. We had a small crew on thirds, and I worked at Weeke #2 in the Park Avenue department all by myself most of the night. Only occasionally would a boss or coworker pull up on a golf-cart or forklift to check up on me, just to make sure I wasn’t dead. I enjoyed it because there wasn’t any social pressure like there was with all the people on second shift. Also, the work I did was easier. All the parts I ran were the same, so I didn’t have to move the pods around, and there was little chance of cutting them. However, I made some bad decisions regarding my health. I got out of class at 12:45 PM, and had to be at work at 10 PM, so after class, I’d run to Jack’s and get a combo meal with a milkshake for a drink. I thought being full would help me overcome the insomnia I often had on that shift. I went to sleep well enough, but when I woke up and arrived at work, I felt like death. I think it was because of the effect the milkshake was having on my body.

I’d get off work at 6 AM and usually go to some gas station to get a couple biscuits, a coffee, and a V8. Sometimes, I’d go to a 7AM recovery meeting. A cool thing about these third shift morning excursions was that while most people were just waking up, I’d been up all night. I enjoyed the contrast. The recovery meetings were walking distance from the college, so I could park at the college and walk back and forth to and from the meetings. On days I went to meetings, I’d usually leave early and go on to school. On days I didn’t go to meetings, I’d arrive at UNA a little after 6, after I’d had my biscuit. UNA usually has crowded parking, but at that time of the morning I was the only one there. I always parked in the same spot, my ’96 Corolla being the lone car in the parking lot. The Guillot University Center was the first place to open, and they had some nice couches in there, so I’d go in there to study before the library opened up.
Around the time of my 3rd shift experience, HON announced that the Florence plant was shutting down. Some people were upset about this, but I was happy because it meant I’d get severence pay, unemployment benefits, and some time for being lazy. In the months before my final day at HON, I took a leave of absence and went to China with a group from UNA. Shortly after my final day at HON, while I was unemployed, I took a trip to New Orleans with another UNA group. The China trip is covered in the next section and the New Orleans trip is covered in “States I’ve Visited.”
China
My friend and study partner, Samantha, had gone to China with UNA the year before, and she was already well-traveled before that. She would sometimes ask me about what I did for fun and said once that I led a “sheltered life.” That irritated me, but perhaps it also motivated me to get out and travel more. I don’t know though. I already had a big desire to do that. I went and talked to Bruce Gordon, a professor who was organizing the trip. The group that was going to China met a few times before the trip, but I still didn’t know any of them very well. I had to ask Matt Myers, my supervisor at HON, about taking a three-week leave of absense. I’d been working there for five years, so they were pretty lenient about that kind of stuff, as they should’ve been. It was late at night when I was expected to arrive at Dr. Gordon’s house to leave with him for the airport. I did some meditation and listened to a Sun Ra record before I left. I arrived at Dr. Gordon’s house early, as I usually do, so I sat in the car for a while before I nervously went to his door and knocked. His wife and two sons were in the house because they were also going with us. We went and picked up Ying Wang to go with us. She was a Chinese woman who worked for UNA’s business department. We flew to Chicago and then got on the main flight. It was a huge plane. Five seats in the middle and three on each side, I think. I should’ve been one of the largest planes because it was traveling about as far as you can go. We flew for about twelve hours and finally landed in Beijing. This was the first time I’d been out of the U.S. in several years, and the only time I’d been abroad away from my parents. I shared a room with this guy. I can’t even remember his name, even though I basically lived with him for three weeks! We did a lot of things with the group, and broke up into smaller groups, but I loved it when I got to go out on my own. We saw most of the major historical landmarks with the large group, but when I went out on my own, I’d go to coffee shops and read the Kindle. A lot of them would go out to bars at night, and when they asked me if I wanted to go, I always declined. There was a woman closer to my age that I hung out with a lot. There were also two sisters who were really religious, and disliked by most of the others, that hung out with us, in our little group of four. I’d printed off directions to the AA meetings in Beijing and Shanghai. Out on my own in Beijing, I called a cab and showed him the directions to the meeting. We couldn’t speak each others’ languages, so he just shook his head “no” and handed the paper back to me. One of the strangest things I heard was a cover of “The KKK took my Baby Away” by the Ramones, on the speakers in a hotel lobby. It may have been Shonen Knife’s version. When we got to Shanghai, I was finally able to find a meeting. It was one of the most surreal moments of my life. When the cab driver dropped me off, I still had a couple of hours before the meeting started, so I sat around at a Starbucks. The meeting room was in a tall building with over one hundred floors, and it was on one of the highest floors, overlooking the city. I was standing outside the door where it was supposed to be when somebody walked up and asked, in my own language, if I was there for the meeting. We went in and had a regular, English speaking meeting. All this time, I’d seen nothing but Chinese people outside of my college group. Now, I was surrounded by Americans and Europeans. I went to a couple of those meetings and went out to eat with some of those guys a few times. When I got back to the room, my roommate asked me what I did. I didn’t want to tell him about AA, so I said I went and saw a friend. I thought that might be believable, because the older woman on the trip had a friend out there, who rode on the bus with us. I don’t think he believed me though. There were some massage girls/hookers that were working at our hotel. I bet he thought I was lying to cover up going to them. I worried that he didn’t respect me after that. That’s too bad, too, because it seemed like he was the best possible roommate for me of all the guys in our group. We didn’t have a choice in who our roommate was. It was chosen randomly. One of the coolest moments with a small group that I had was at a karaoke place in Shanghai. I went with Dr. Gordon’s family and the older woman. I sang a U2 song and “Kokomo” by the Beach Boys. They were all surprised at how well I could sing. One of them said the U2 song sounded exactly like the original. I felt like this was one of the only real connections I made during the trip. They went back and told everybody else how good I could sing. Then, on the bus ride to the returning flight, they talked me into singing acapella on the bus microphone. Dr. Gordon, perhaps jokingly, told me my grade depended on it. I didn’t know if he was joking or not. Otherwise, I wouldn’t’ve done it. I sang “She Talks to Angels.” It only made everything more awkward. Another reason I didn’t get along well was because I didn’t know how to dress. I was oversized t-shirts and too-long jorts. We flew from Shanghai to Los Angeles, then to Dallas, then to Birmingham. I rode back to Dr. Gordon’s house with him and his family. We had dinner at his house and then I drove home to my apartment. After not being able to sleep on the planes or any of the layovers, I finally went to sleep in my own bed for a long, long time.

Bikini Atol

One day, when I was at Waffle House in Florence, I saw who I thought was Sam Roy. We’d been estranged for years. Sometimes I freak out in situations like that, so I just left before he saw me. However, one day, at Gold’s Gym on Cox Creek Parkway in Florence, I saw him again. He asked me if I wanted to jam some time. I thought it’d be cool to play some of my instrumentals with a band, so I said yes. We started jamming at his apartment in downtown Florence. with just drums, guitar, and vocals. Without bass, it was impossible to do the instrumentals, so we tried doing some classic rock covers I knew, like Floyd, Sabbath, and Hendrix, but the lack of bass made those hard to pull off as well. Then, we tried playing some Ramones songs, which sounded a lot better, because with them, the bass and guitar usually play the same thing. We tried some other punk tunes, which also sounded good. It was at that point that we decided to be a punk band.
I have the kind of personality that likes to be educated about certain things. I think of this kind of stuff as a project. I decided, if I was going to be in a punk band, I’d better learn as much as I could about punk rock. I pretty much quit listening to anything but punk. These were the days before Spotify where you had to rip off music from places like Napster, Limewire, Pirate Bay, etc. I became obsessed, accumulation a huge collection of pirated punk CDs. I didn’t just steal music though. I also started collecting vinyl records. Thanks to those days, I now have a lot of punk on vinyl.
In addition to our punk covers, we started working on some of Sam’s originals. Since we were able to mold them however we liked, they worked out okay without bass too. When we finally had a decent set, Sam booked us our first gig at The End Theater in Florence. It was with two other bands, Local Orbit and Dirty Swagger. This was the first time I really became a part of the Florence rock scene. I talked to one of the guys from Local Orbit, who was into punk. Somehow, I brought up the Big-4 concert I went to with Greg. He liked Slayer, but didn’t care too much for Anthrax. Sam and I talked to Dirty Swagger’s drummer and his wife, who was a teacher. What I remember about those two bands was that the singer for Local Orbit had a clown outfit on, and that Dirty Swagger’s guitarst had a full-stack so loud, you couldn’t even hear the drums. You know it’s loud when you can’t hear the drums, because drums are loud!
There was a bar/restaurant called LaFonda’s that Sam and I played at, not as Bikini Atol, but with Barry Billings. I played bass and sang some that night with Barry on guitar. We did some covers. There were only a few people there and my friend Ray from work came in a heard us play. We made a lot of mistakes because we hadn’t practiced and everything was off the cuff. That’s the only time I’ve ever played with Barry.
Another one of our first shows was in Decatur, AL, at a record shop that was about to close down. One of the bands that played with us was Strange Waves, but they called themselves Red Wings at the time. The other band that played acted stuck up. They and all their friends sat in their cars outside the whole time we were playing. I bought a record player and a Blue Oyster Cult record, as well as some cassette tapes.
After that, we started playing a lot more at The End, as well as watching others play. We met several local bands, including Sunday @ Six, Random Conflict, Voodoo Sound System, Cheap Thrill Deville, and Your Boys. The largest crowd we ever played for was at a battle of the bands, put on by Voodoo Sound System’s Matt Lang, at The End. There were 10 bands, and Dirty Swagger won the battle, with Sunday @ Six coming in second, and Flux coming in third. We didn’t place. This was the first show we did with a bassist. Sam asked Cheap Thrill Deville’s Luke Hunter to play for us. We practiced with him a couple of times before the show, and I found it frustrating. He was messing around with a lot of effects pedals, including distortion. I don’t necessarily have a problem with bass distortion, but he had even more distortion than my guitar. I wished he would just plug straight into the amp and play clean. He also didn’t learn the songs very well. It seemed like he was just playing random notes. The weird thing was that he seemed oblivious. He kept saying “I dig it,” but I didn’t dig it. All the bands at the battle were supposed to play two originals and a cover. The cover we chose was “Bullet” by the Misfits. That song is so offensive. I wouldn’t choose to play that song today. We also used to play the “Last Caress,” (not at the battle of the bands, but at other shows), which is even more offensive. Speaking of the Misfits, Sam and I went to a Misfits show at Exit/In, on the 50th anniversary of JFK’s assasination, around this time. It was a wild coincidence, considering the fact that “Bullet,” one of their most popular songs, is about the JFK assasination. We were wondering if they would play the song, because I’d heard that they’d quit playing it, but they made an exception that time and played it.
If I recall correctly, we only played one show at Pegasus Records, and it was with Isaac The Band’s CD release of Stereo Something. (Great album, by the way.) We were the opening band, and Luke Wright let me use his Big Muff distortion pedal. I think there were quite a few people there when we played, but it didn’t seem like it, because it was such a large area and they were spread out. But when Isaac came on, it did look like a lot. We never seemed to have much luck getting big crowds, except for the battle of the bands, but because of Isaac’s large crowd, the show made pretty good money, and we got a decent cut.
We recorded some during our time as a two-piece, and it was a struggle at first. We went down and recorded at David Brawner’s studio for free. “Lookin’ for that High” was one of the songs we recorded there. It was the first time I heard Sam do his death metal growl for that song. I don’t know if he had that planned, but it seemed spontaneous. The funny thing was that it wasn’t a death metal or even metal. It was kind of a happy song, but the growl sort of worked. When we finally got to hear the tracks we recorded, they sounded saturated. I played them for some guys at work and they thought the songs were good, but the sound wasn’t good, so we didn’t put that stuff out.
Another place we went to record was at a church that Sam’s friend, Logan, went to. That was weird, because Sam’s not religious at all, and some Christians may have considered our music offensive. We also had band practice at there, because Sam’s neighbor called the cops on us for playing too loud. As I said earlier, drums are loud! Some of the songs we recorded there ended up on our first CD. Logan had a small Marshall amp and a 5-string bass that I used. I thought Logan was a pretty good producer because he had advice for me. For the song “Dave,” he told me I sounded like I was afraid when I was singing. After that, I made a point to sing more passionately. To this day, I think about that comment when I’m singing. He also gave me ideas for spicing up the bass line for that song. It’s always good when a producer/engineer has opinions, as long as they’re good ones. It means they care about the music, and they’re not just there to rip us off and get our money. On the other hand, if a producer has a lot of bad ideas, then that’s a problem too, even if they’re sincere. But I’ve learned that I’m not always the best at knowing the difference, even though I used to think I was. As far as practicing at the church, that was a blast. The equipment and acoustics there were great, and I loved the tone that that Marshall amp got.
About half the songs on our first CD were recorded by Logan, and the others were recorded at Sam’s house. This was the house Sam moved to after he left that apartment. This was my first time recording drums on a 16-track that I’d had for a while, and I didn’t know what I was doing. Probably the worst thing about those recordings was the fact that we used cheap microphones to record the drums and the vocals. I suppose the bass and guitar sounded ok because they were plugged straight into the board. We printed those CDs and then sold them for $10, which was way too much. What I disliked about this was that Sam would give the CDs away to some people. We should’ve lowered the price and not given any away. It’s not fair to the few people who are actual fans and are willing to pay. The people he gave the CDs too probably never listened to them and just used them for coasters or frisbees. The people who actually want a CD and would listen are sometimes too broke to buy one, especially at a high price. They are the ones who should be given one. The solution could be to sell them for 25 cents. That way, only the people who wanted one would get one, and everybody could afford one. Making a profit doesn’t really matter. We’ve always had to pay for our art.
Commies and Queers was mine and Sam’s Ramones tribute band with Bill Conflict and the late Brooke Perry. To prepare for our only show, the three of them had a practice, without me, at the house Sam was staying at. We played at The End, and I sang unpracticed on about half of the songs. Bikini Atol also played at that show, so I got to play twice. Bill sang some of the songs, but he’s not a really melodic singer. Sam would have rather had me sing them all. Brooke did harmonies with me, on the spot, with no practice. I’ve rarely gotten to do vocal harmonies with people, so that was a special treat.
4-piece Bikini Atol
When we didn’t have anywhere to practice, Sam and I rented a room at Pegasus Records. At first, we were sharing the room with Cheap Thrill Deville, but later, they moved out, and Strange Waves moved in. One day, Andrew Hayes and Steven Herring came in to jam with us. They learned our songs pretty quickly and we started playing shows as a four-piece. I’m pretty sure our first show was at The End with Your Boys, who were still a two-piece. Steven made a “Bikini Atol” sign with neon lights that added a more KISS-like vibe to the show. Although there was a certain novelty to having a two-piece band, this was exciting, because adding two instruments made us sound twice as big. We played a lot more venues as a four-piece than we did as a two-piece. In addition to The End, we played at 116 E Mobile, Underground Art & Sound, and Nu Way Vinyl in Florence, Maggie Meyers Irish Pub and Copper Top Dive N’ Dine in Huntsville, Springwater Supper Club & Lounge in Nashville, The Boro in Murfreesboro, Egan’s Bar in Tuscaloosa, Zydeco in Birmingham, Champy’s Chicken in Sheffield, two house parties in the Shoals area, and The Comic Shop in Decatur. I’ll give a brief description of the events at these venues.
We played at 116 many times. One time was for Strange Waves’s CD release show. This was fun because the PA there was a little better than what they had at The End. We were still developing our sound and image. We all wore black t-shirts, which looked kind of cool, even though some other bands do the same thing. One of the best shows we played at 116 was with James Leg from Port Arthur, TX, and Monsoon from Athens, GA. James Leg was fairly well known, plus Monsoon had a song in a commercial, and a girl singer, Sienna Chandler, who brought more girls to the show. The first time we played with Monsoon was at The End, during the W.C. Handy Festival. That time, Sienna had two different guys playing with her, so clearly she was the star of the band.
Underground Art & Sound was a cool underground record store that Kirk Russell worked at. When I lived at the Lion’s Den, it was only a short distance from my apartment. I could just walk there, then go down the steps to the hidden store to see what was going on. We did two shows there, one with Random Conflict and the other with Cheap Thrill Deville. The one with RC was right after Trump had been elected, and right after Halloween. I had a mullet wig I’d bought for Halloween that looked cool at a show we’d done earlier at Copper Top, but for some reason it looked stupid at UAAS. Maybe it was because the first time had been spontaneous, and the second was planned. My bandmates said I looked like Mink Deville the first time. Edwin Coombs said “I’m so glad that’s not your real hair,” at the UAAS show. At the Cheap Thrill show, they sounded bad, because they didn’t have a bass player. It just didn’t sound full at all, which was a good reminder of how important bass is in a band. UAAS ended up closing when Kirk Russell had a falling out with Carter Cothren, the guy who was running the place. Carter wouldn’t let Kirk take off to go to a funeral, so Kirk left and started working at Nu Way Vinyl when they opened. One day at UAAS, Kirk was telling me about how the business would fail without his help, and he was right.
Besides Kirk, there were other guys I knew who worked at Nu Way. Corey Keenum, who played guitar/vocals for Cheiftan, worked there. They were a fun band. They had a black guitarist who was wild. He would flop around on the floor while playing and act crazy. During one show at The End, they passed the instruments around to the audience. They ended up breaking a guitar at that show, but it was a cheapo. I know some people are against instrument destruction, but that was a cool moment. You just had to be there. The other guy who worked at Nu Way was Jamie Rowsey. He played drums for Voodoo Sound System and Bad Ethyl. VSS had some decent songs. They wore makeup, and as my bandmates pointed out, it looked sloppy, not well-done like KISS. Bad Ethyl had a Van Halen vibe. The guys in that band had pretty good chops. The guitarist, J.J. Bartlett, had a Dean guitar and opened for Michael Angelo Batio when I saw him in Sheffield. The bassist was a big Billy Sheenan fan and played the same kind of bass that Sheenan plays. He played in that cool, lead-bass kind of style.
We played shows with Big Gaping Holes and Camacho at Maggie Meyers. That was cool, but seeing legendary punk bands The Queers and Richie Ramone was cooler. Since it was a small venue, they were more intimate than shows in large arenas. I met and got photos taken with both Joe Queer and Richie Ramone. It’s cool to be able to say I played in the same venue as those guys. Copper Top was the same type of dive bar as Maggie Meyers. Steven would bring his mistress to some of the shows his wife didn’t go to. She came to a show at Copper Top, and the one at Egan’s. She also came to some of our practices and took the group photo on our “Gold” album cover. A solo guy open for us one night at Copper Top. He played guitar, kicked a bass drum, and sang. He couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but his lyrics were funny. Steven called him “Randy Chode.” The Copper Top crowd didn’t seem to like our originals, even though some girls danced to a few songs. But when we started playing “Where Eagles Dare” by the Misfits, a bunch of guys came up and sang along, making that song the highlight of the night.
It took us a long time, but we finally booked a Springwater in Nashville. I was excited to be able to say I played in “Music City,” but it turned out to be an unamazing show. There were hardly any people there, and almost all of them were men. Pllaying darts with John Orman was the funnest thing I did that night. My band members and I had a “prayer” we did to Ronnie James Dio where we would stand in a circle, make Dio’s devil-horn sign with our hands, put our hands together like that, and sing a line out of “Holy Diver.” It was our ritual before we went on to play. We did it that night, as we did at most of our shows.
We played at The Boro with Southern Shame. I’d call them outlaw country. Perhaps not a perfect match for us, but it was a fun show. Most of the audience would sit in the back, so we couldn’t see them that well, but we heard their applause. A couple of guys would sometimes come up to the stage and dance. I was working for Buffalo Rock at the time and had to work the next morning. It took over two hours to drive to Murfreesboro from Florence and two hours back, so I would only get a couple of hours sleep before I had to get up to go to work. That happened a few times with long-distance shows, but I usually felt it was worth it. In fact, I felt great the next day if the show was a success. The other place we played in Murfreesboro seemed a little more upscale than that country bar. It was more restaurant style and they had some nice food. Steven’s family came and they ate there. I’d talked to The Acorn People’s drummer at one of our 116 shows, and he was able to book us because he worked there. I remember being pleased with the P.A. and the mix because I could hear my vocals so well. I was able to back up off the mic, which is rare. Usually I stuggle to hear the vocals, asking the guitarists to turn their amps down and the drummer to play lighter. I have to eat the mic and sing loudly, blowing my voice out by the end of the show.
The show we did at Egan’s Bar was another long drive. It was close to the University of Alabama, so there were a lot of college kids partying around town, but most of them didn’t seem interested in that bar or our band. Andrew and I handed out fliers outside the bar with little success. We saw Jared McCoy from Cheap Thrill Deville there. (small world)This was at a time when I was getting my bandmates to write stage-banter for me. One of the things they’d written was “let your freak flag fly,” but they said I slipped up and said “let your freak fag fly” instead. What a tounge twister.
The Zydeco show, another long drive, was at a venue where some bigger name acts had played, and I thought that meant something, but there was harldy anybody there to watch us. I wore my Subhumans shirt, while Steven wore GN’R and Andrew wore KISS. I thought it was a wierd, not necessarily cool, contrast between my punk shirt and their mainstream rock shirts. I had a hang-up about punk that I no longer have. Don’t get me wrong, I still like it, just not in that weird (dogmatic?) way. A Christian rap group played before us and a rock group played after us. I’ll call them butt-rock, which sounds like a diss, but it’s really not. They were good, but I don’t know what else to call them. They did a Velvet Revolver cover. The audience picked the winner by applause. The butt-rock band won, only because so many of their friends were there.
We did our show at Champy’s Chicken when I was working in Lewisburg for Michael Sullivan’s CPA firm. This was a hard time for me. I was feeling a lot of stress at my job. I’d just gotten my bachelor’s degree in accounting and started this job, my first and only of this type. I had no idea how to do the work. There was no kind of on-the-job training. I was just flying blind. Michael’s assistant was mean. The drive to Champy’s was long and I had work the next day. We were opening for Tommy Womack and weren’t supposed to curse because of the venue. My parents and Pam Richards came to the show. Steven’s family came too. We started off with some songs that we used capos for, but I forgot to put my capo on, so it was way out of key. Sometimes, when you mess up, you can just keep playing and pretend like nothing happened, but this was so disastrous that we had to stop and start all over again. Womack was an acoustic act so we agreed to play more stripped down, with me on clean electric and Steven on acoustic. Steven’s wife said she liked us better that way. I can see how some people would like a more laid back version of us.
We played one house party in Tuscumbia around Halloween. There was a deathcore band called Abrasive there too. I think most of the people there were more into heavier music, which is common around the Shoals music scene. We all dressed up. I went as Freddy Kreuger, Sam went as a guy dressing up as Paul Stanley, and Andrew went as a bodybuilder with fake muscles. Another party was at Stephanie Lucas’s house in Florence. Sam didn’t want to play, but begrudgingly did. We played almost all our songs and messed up a lot. Lemmy had just passed and we decided to try to play “Ace of Spades,” not having practiced it with Sam. That song was a train-wreck, and the night was a disaster.
We played that way as a four-piece for a while, until Sam got a job in Las Vegas. Then, we decided to keep playing as Bikini Atol without Sam. We got Conner Puckett to play drums with us and rehearsed at Strange Waves’s practice house. Conner was playing with Strange Waves too, so it was convenient. We played Scott Long’s birthday party at 116. Scott sang a Joy Division song with us. We played at UAAS on a night when Sam was back from Vegas for the weekend. He watched us play with Conner and sat in with us on a few songs. We did Bowie’s “Rebel Rebel” that night. The last show we did with Conner was at The Comic Shop. We opened for a band with some members of Cancerslug in it. There weren’t many people for us (as usual), but when they went on to play, it was packed.
After College
That night at Champy’s was the night before I quit my job at Michael Sullivan CPA. I was so stressed out from the work that I couldn’t stand it. My parents had just come to see my band play, and when we got done and I was ready to drive back home, I called my Mom and told her I was going to quit. She tried to talk me out of it, and I started yelling at her. I would have had to work there for two years to have enough experience to go out on my own. I can’t imagine what that would’ve been like. I’d already laid out one day and not called in because I was to stressed. He called me and I didn’t answer. He came to my house and started banging on the door. When I didn’t answer the door, he went to my neighbor’s house, got a key from her, and let himself in, then asked me if I was ok. He came back that afternoon to check on me again. I went into work the next day. On the day I finally quit, I made sure I called him to let him know so he wouldn’t do the same thing again. Otherwise, I would’ve ghosted him like I always do. I decided to move back to Florence because I despised Lewisburg. There was a lot of traffic there and nothing but fast food restaurants. I had a really bad mindset at the time because of my job failure and anger issues. Michael Sullivan was racist and his assistant was homophobic. The woman they hired along with me came and told me one day that she couldn’t stand them. I told her I couldn’t stand them either. At least she had the nerve to hang in there longer than I did. God bless her. I planned on hiring someone to help me move, because I didn’t want to rely on my parents. I was mad at them for no good reason, but I finally broke down and accepted their help.
Back in Florence, I moved into Lion’s Den apartments. I wanted to live downtown, and it was the first place I found that would let me in. It didn’t even have a kitchen. I tried using a hot plate at first, but ended up just microwaving stuff all the time. I got a third-shift job at a saw mill. I was using milkshakes to go to sleep again, so (deja vu) I felt lousy most of the time. There were only a few guys on third shift, some real go-getters. The maintenance guy was really religious. One night, he was looking at some pictures of artifacts on his phone that were supposedly over 10,000 years old. He said “Ya know that’s wrong, ’cause the Earth ain’t that old.” Like a lot of people who work in places like this, he had a couple of nubs for fingers. One day, he was telling me about the safety rules. He said “You ain’t gotta go by ’em all the time.” I was thinking if he’d gone by them all the time, he might still have his fingers. Oh well. A lot of my time there, I would help this guy run a huge saw. It was exactly the same kind of saw they had at HON, where I saw a guy get his finger chopped off. There was a safety line on the saw. You were never supposed to stick your hand past that line. There was a stick you could use to grab the wood so you wouldn’t have to put your hand there. When that guy got his finger chopped off, he wasn’t using the stick. He was using his hand instead, for no reason. This guy was doing the exact same thing (deja vu), on the same exact saw. Trump was running in the Republican primaries at this time, when nobody really thought he’d win. The saw operator and his brother, who was the boss, were both Trump supporters. The boss brother said he liked Trump because he would just do whatever he wanted and not ask for permission. That sounded like fascism to me, unlike what America is supposed to be, a sytem of checks and balances. On the day of the primaries, I had to drive all the way to Lewisburg to vote for Bernie Sanders. I went as soon as I got off work that morning. That night, they were talking about the election. The religious guy supported Ben Carson. There was one guy there who thought Trump was an idiot, so I was glad about that. While I was working there, I daydreamed of moving to England if Trump won the election, which was a silly idea. I wouldn’t have been able to save enough money to do that, and I didn’t have any work skill that would make them want to let me in. Every morning, I’d get off work at six and go to Hardee’s to get breakfast, before going home and going to sleep. I had to be at work at ten every night, and one night, when I got up, I felt so terrible (probably from the milkshake) that I called in and told them I quit. The fact that I had some money left over from a 401k cash-in made me less reluctant about that decision, I suppose. I had a little bit of time before I had to find another job. Pokemon Go came out around that time, and a lot of my Facebook friends played, so I spent some down-time doing that. I never got good at it, but I didn’t have much else to do.
Finally, when my money started to dwindle to a couple thousand dollars, I applied for a job at Buffalo Rock. I liked this job, because I didn’t feel much pressure. I got to drive the Pepsi mobile all around Alabama, and didn’t have anybody to answer to most of the time. I was working there when Trump got elected. I always vote Democrat, and Alabama gives you the option of voting straight down the party line, so that’s what I did. Bikini Atol had a show with Random Conflict coming up, so Bill Conflict came over that night to get some fliers for that show. He had on one of those “I voted.” stickers they give you. We sat and talked for a couple of hours before the election results started coming in. Sam, like many others, was sure Hillary was going to win. I thought she would win but wasn’t 100% sure. I stayed up late watching the results come in until it looked like Trump had it in the bag. I was devastated. I was in a terrible mood at work the next day. I remember that day well. My boss could probably see how upset I was by the look on my face. I don’t know who he supported or whether he cared about politics at all, but was amazed at how non-chalant he looked, just going about his business. I had to do Muscle Shoals Wal-Mart and K-mart that day. It was interesting doing those two stores because of the huge contrast between them. Wal-mart had set itself up for domination and K-mart was about to go out of business. I would spend the majority of the day in Wal-Mart, stocking and restocking. They would sell a lot of 2-liter Mountain Dews, especially on holiday weekends. Sometimes I would stock the shelf full of them, and fifteen minutes later, they’d be gone. K-mart was the opposite. I would just go in there at the end of the day and walk through the store. I really didn’t even have to do that, because the shelves didn’t need much stocking. A lot of the time, I’d just remove out-of-date 2-liters.
After I’d been working there for a while, replacing other people on their routes, I finally got my own route. I’d been getting paid by the hour, but now I was going to get a salary. I thought this was going to be a good thing, until I got my first paycheck. I just had a lot more responsibilities and not much more pay. It was still better than a lot of factories I’d worked in. I had to work with this other guy more though, and he was kind of bitchy some of the time. I can’t say that I blame him, considering the job he has, but he made me nervous and bitter. He would complain about how hard he worked, everything that was expected of him, and how much harder his job was than mine. It seems like that kind of stuff happens a lot in the workplace. They don’t understand, or don’t want to admit, that most working-class people are in the same boat. Most of us are having a hard time too. A lot of times, I would ride with other people, and sometimes I’d have somebody ride with me. There was one guy who played music, and I told him I played music also. I didn’t plan on telling him about my band, because sometimes that can hurt PR, but he kept on asking me questions. It’s hard to tell people that you jam with other people, because when you do that, you almost always have a band name. It’s actually pretty weird to not have a band name. So, I reluctantly told him the name was Bikini Atol. Then, to my dismay, he looked us up online. We had a fairly strong online presence, so he could find out a lot about us, including live videos of me playing, dancing, and acting, some might say, like a fool. So, of course, he told everybody at work and a bunch of grocery store workers about us. Luckily, when all this happened, I’d just put in my two-week notice to start working for Optinet in Las Vegas. I kept on keeping on, knowing it would all be over soon. Otherwise, I probably would have quit. I used to feel relaxed around my co-workers and would cut up with them, but when word got out about my band, I started feeling nervous. It seemed like they treated me differently too. I don’t know if that was real or imagined. But the times I worked alone were nice. It was cool to go to country restaurants and grocery stores, soaking it all in one last time and thinking I wasn’t going to be a part of this simple life for a while. I wrote some about my Optinet experience in “States I’ve Visited,” so I’m going to skip over that and go into the England trip I took when Optinet laid me off.

England
When I knew that I was going to be laid off from Optinet, I had a lot of money saved and booked a vacation in London for a week. My Dad helped me arrange everything, including a bus ride to my hotel, a tour of Stonehenge, and a tour of several castles, churches and royal institutions. When I arrived, I wasn’t able to figure out how to use my pass to get on the bus. It also took me a while to figure out how to exchange my U.S. dollars for Euros. I finally gave up on the bus and took a taxi to my hotel that cost me about a hundred dollars worth of Euros. The first thing I noticed was the driver’s British accent. He noticed my American accent too, but not just that. He said I sounded like I was from the “Deep South.” Obviously, I was pretty tired by the time I got to my hotel, but I had to go out and do something, considering I was abroad on my own for the first time in my life. I went to a fancy Indian restaurant, then went back to the hotel to go to sleep. I was supposed to go to Stonehenge the next day, but when the alarm went off, I was still sleepy, so I decided not to go. It’s a damn shame. Back then, I blamed it on jetlag, but it had more to do with my unhealthy lifestyle. I got up later and figured out what I was going to do. I got a subway ticket, which helped me get around, but it was still hard to navigate to all the places I wanted to visit. Sometimes I’d end up in the wrong spot, and I’d have to roam around aimlessly for a while before I figured out what to do. Estate Office Coffee was close to my hotel, and I went there several times during the week to get a coffee, a sparkling water, and some type of pastry. I’d sit outside with my drink and read Plato’s Republic. When I went on the bus tour, I was socially awkward, and that stopped me from making any real connections. I was a little better than I was with my China trip and some of my California trips, and my clothes were a little better, but I was still somewhat worried about my clothes and my accent. The Rolling Stones played while I was there, and I talked to some people who went to see them. Our tour guide was really nice and funny. I talked to him for a bit. The highlight of my trip was Westminster Abbey, where all the kings and queens are buried. I saw where Darwin and Newton were buried (no photos allowed). Stephen Hawking had just died, and he was going to be buried between those two men.
Life After Optinet
After I returned from England, I didn’t know what to do. I drove to the west coast and stayed in hotels for a while before I came back east. After I got that out of my system, I decided to move back to Florence. I got a job at North American Lighting, and when I did that, I was able to get an apartment in Seven Points. Seven Points is a nice place, and I got the apartment because of its proximity to UNA. At NAL, I saw a few people I used to work with at different places. There was a guy named Chris who was a friend of Marty McLaughlin. Chris worked with me at Sara Lee and we didn’t get along well. There was also a woman named Karen who I worked with at HON. I always got along with her just fine. This probably sounds like deja vu, but I got too stressed out by some insufferable people (not the ones I just mentioned) at NAL, walked out one day, and never came back. I’m not sure how long I lasted at NAL, maybe a month or two.
I still had plenty of Optinet money, so I just chilled for a while after that. It was time to get some reading done. I chose some books that I felt were appropriate for my situation or mindset, like existentialist philosophy. I read The Stranger and Myth of Sisyphus by Albert Camus. I reread The Great and Secret Show by Clive Barker to try to recapture the comfort I got from that book after I quit my job at Sara Lee. I also got an abridged version of Critique of Pure Reason, by Kant, in the mail. I became lazy, ordering pizza often and never doing any real cooking, but I tried to stay halfway in shape by walking. Since I was able to walk to UNA, at night I would walk there and then walk laps around the campus while listening to audiobooks. I would sometimes walk to Rivertown coffee and get an espresso. The campus brought back memories of my time in college that I longed for. I thought of all the books inside its walls and everything that had been taught and learned over the years. There was also a record store that Bikini Atol played an acoustic show at once that was even closer to my apartment than UNA. I had lost a little bit of my interest in music, but this store had books also, which made it a kind of heaven. I bought two Platos, a Kerouac, and a Heidegger there. I walked for hours at a time, and this proves that walking alone won’t keep you in excellent shape or full of energy. I would stay up all night, then go to Jack’s and Starbucks in the morning before going to sleep. I decided to take a Spanish class at UNA and was trying to learn coding online, so I spent a lot of time in the UNA library on their computers, working on those projects, which were silly and useless. I didn’t learn Spanish or coding. Part of me was trying to recapture the moments spent there in the past, which was futile. Everybody there looked so much younger than they did before.
After a while, I started looking for jobs in Tennessee. My Mom found an ad in the newspaper for a job fair at Graphics Packaging, where I’d previously worked in the 90s as a temp. I remembered doing twelve-hour shifts where I’d take crazy-long breaks. We’d alternate between working an hour and taking an hour-long break for the entirety of the shift. I used to go on every break and get stoned. I thought if I could make it as long as I did back then, it’d be a breeze, now that I was sober. They were hiring people for full-time positions at the job fair. The interviewer didn’t like my gaps in employment, so I didn’t get the job. However, there was a temp place there that asked me to come by. They assigned me to a night-shift job at GPC, a factory in Mt. Pleasant, TN. Even though I still had my apartment in Florence, I slept at my parents’ house, because the drive from Florence would’ve taken too long. It still took a long time from Mom and Dad’s, which was a problem because of the long hours required. I worked there for a while and made quite a bit of money, but was miserable and felt tired all the time, never getting enough sleep. One day, they said we were going to start working seven tens. There was a guy there who complained, saying it was against his religion to work on Sunday, so they changed it to six twelves, which was even worse for me, because I’d get even less sleep during the week. I didn’t go to work the next night. The temp place called me, and I told them I wouldn’t be able to go back.
After that, I found a job fair ad for Faurecia in Spring Hill, TN, a factory that contracted with GM, making the door panels for their cars. I got that job and moved to Spring Hill. I had to pay extra for breaking my lease in Florence, but ended on good terms. My parents had to help me move out from Florence, then I stayed with them for a while until I got my new apartment. The Faurecia factory was just starting up. During the time between my job offer and my first day, I couldn’t even find the factory because it was blocked off. They were still doing construction on it. Finally, my first day arrived. We had to take classes for a week. I met some of the people I’d be working with for the next year. When we finally went to the factory, we had to carpool from the classrooms to the factory, because there wasn’t enough parking yet. We had to use porta-potties because the restrooms weren’t built yet. Starting out was so easy. We mostly just swept the floor and mopped all day. I wish it’d stayed that way. Eventually, we started training on the machines, slowly at first. Then we progressed to building our speed up, preparing for full production. I applied for a job as a GAP leader, thinking I was ready to handle the stress of that role and move my way up in the company. But alas, I eventually decided it wasn’t worth it and stepped down.
While I was working there, I started thinking about how I often lacked energy and wasn’t able to handle stress. I looked back on my life, wondering what I was doing wrong. I knew that at times when I’d tried to eat healthy, I felt better. I knew that when I worked at Buffalo Rock and was working hard pulling pallets all day, I’d been able to keep the weight off, even though I ate like a pig. One day, when I was loafing around at Mom’s in my intermission between jobs, she asked me to do ten pushups. I felt better and more energetic all day, just from doing that. I made a mental connection between health and positivity. So, because I was feeling stress at Faurecia, I decided to implement some exercise to try to aleviate it. First, I did pushups, then I remembered how we did burpees in Crossfit. That gets your heartrate up really well. I started doing those, but was still going by Sonic or McDonald’s every night after work. Then, as I was watching YouTube videos, I saw something about how important the combination of nutrition and exercise is. It couldn’t be just one, if you want optimal results. I started, slowly at first, to clean up my diet. I started eating Cliff bars at work, which was kind of silly, because they aren’t that much better than regular candy bars. I wasn’t paying much attention to labels. I’d get tuna and crackers, but then my friend Rosa would give me food that she cooked on top of what I already had. I started running on a treadmill, but, partly because I was working so many hours, I only ran once a week.
One day at work, my coworker, Shayla, asked me if I knew about the union meetings she’d been going to at the UAW hall. I told her I hadn’t, but was willing to go. I started going and got really involved in it. Word got around, and lots of people started attending the meetings. They gave us UAW shirts to wear to work. We were all supposed to wear them on the same day, to show solidarity. A lot of people wore them and it was looking good. The UAW hall had a nice gym, for only fifteen dollars a month, with no contract. I joined and started working out there. The UAW involves itself in a lot of the affairs of the auto industry in the Spring Hill area. It was around the time of my own union involvement that GM went on strike. Since Faurecia contracts with them, they shut down too. I was happy about this, because it meant I’d have time off to do whatever I wanted. I got an unemployment check, but it wasn’t much, certainly not enough to sustain my lifestyle indefinitely. Finally, it looked like GM and UAW were coming to an agreement. Faurecia called all the GAP leaders back first, a group I was a part of, unfortunately. I would’ve preferred to have continued drawing unemployment for a little longer. When we all had been back from the strike for a while, and it looked like our own union was going up for a vote, they brought the union-busters in. We had to go to these meetings to listen to their anti-union propaganda. I lost my temper in one of the meetings and went off on one of the union-busters. My coworkers were surprised. I thought maybe they were impressed. But finally, on the day of the vote, the majority voted “no.”
The 2020 Democratic primaries were going on at this time, and Bernie Sanders was doing well. I was trying to get involved in Bernie’s campaign, and I did some things online, then met a group of other supporters at a Starbucks in town. My assignment from the meeting was to find ten people to download the “Bernie” app on their phone. This was hard for me, considering I don’t talk to that many people. The task caused me to break an estrangement with Sam. I went down to his house in Summertown to talk with him. We talked for a long time. I couldn’t shut up about the books I was reading. He showed me his music setup, which I wasn’t that interested in at the time. He and his girlfriend, Stacy, got a few people to download the app. I also got my parents to get some people to download the app. I Instagram messaged Jeremy from Strange Waves and Scott Long, asking them to download it. They said they might. They were Bernie supporters, but didn’t seem interested in the app. I don’t blame them. It wasn’t a very good app, so I’m not sure if I helped Bernie too much. Maybe that’s a good thing though. He might not’ve beaten Trump. While I was at Sam’s, we talked some about Coronavirus. It wasn’t in full swing yet, but I made the prophetic statement of “It’s coming.” And boy, did it.
I was on third shift at Faurecia because I’d tried to work a side-job at Jackson Hewitt on day shift to get some tax experience. I was ambitious, but that didn’t work out. I ended up quitting the tax job because I couldn’t get any sleep, but stayed on thirds at Faurecia. It was more laid back on thirds than seconds, the shift I worked previously. There was less drama, and I liked the people. I’d get off work at 6AM and go straight to the UAW gym. They had an indoor track that I’d run laps around. They also had all the weight training equipment you could ask for. In March 2020, when Coronavirus was just starting out, people weren’t wearing the masks as much, but we were advised to stay apart from each other. Everybody would wipe down the equipment and wash our hands like crazy. Then came the time that GM shut down for the virus, under pressure from the UAW. On our last day, the boss asked me if I wanted to go home early or stick around and clean. I was ready to go, so I said “go.” I was about to get in the best shape of my life.
Coronavirus Shutdown
At the time I was laid-off, everybody was freaking out and buying a lot of toilet paper. My Mom called me and told me there might be a forced quarantine, and I should stock up on food. I went to Target and bought the most groceries I’d ever bought in a single trip, all healthy food. I washed and sanitazed the hell out of my hands for that trip, but didn’t wear a mask. There were a few people in the store wearing masks that day. That was the first I’d seen that.
During the shutdown, there was a temptation for a lot of people to just sit around all day, eating junk food and watching television. I wasn’t about to do that. I had goals, and plenty of time to achieve them. I was going to get a six-pack. I had doubts about whether somebody my age could achieve that goal, but I saw a YouTube video by the “Kilted Coaches” about getting a six pack after fourty, which made me think it was possible, and it wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it’s be. I started counting calories, which was something I’d never done before. I’d tried eating healthy before, but they were huge portions, and now I know I could never get to a weight where my abs were visible that way. Not in a million years. A caloric surplus is my default state. That video suggested a lot of things. One suggestion was 45 minutes of cardio, four times a week, so I started running three hours a week. Since I’d been on third shift, getting up at three or four in the morning was actually sleeping in, so I’d get up around that time and go run. There was hardly anybody up at that time, so it was peaceful. I got the Strava app and started recording my runs. I was ready to do some weight training also. After experimenting with different home workouts, I realized I needed more tools in my arsenal, so I got soap, hand sanitizer, and a mask so I could go to Wal-Mart. I fraked out when I saw maskless shoppers there. I ran to the workout section and bought a cheap adjustable dumbell set and a resistance band, then checked out and left as fast as I could. There was a playground at the park outside of my apartment, so I’d go out there and do pullups on the monkey bars. I stuck the resistance band under my feet to make them easier. Finally, I ran out of all that food I and needed to get some more. My parents would put in orders at Wal-Mart and have the workers bring the groceries out to their car. I would put in an order for them to pick up, then drive down to their house to get it. I’d visit with them for a while, never going inside the house, only staying outside on the back porch. Pam Richards gave me a pullup bar one Christmas, and I decided now would be a great time to set it up at my apartment. My Dad helped me assemble it at their house, then I had to figure out how to install it on the wall at my apartment on my own. It wasn’t too hard. I worked my way up, and started doing fifty, sometimes a hundred, chinups or pullups a day. One of the keys to improving pullup performance is losing weight. I kept getting better and better. I’d always found chinups to be easier, but soon I became able to do wide-grip pullups for several reps. Things were looking up. Sometimes I’d run in the sweltering heat. I got down to 162 pounds, and finally had my six-pack. Then came the dreaded call-back to Faurecia.
Work During Coronavirus
Before the shutdown, I’d signed up to join a different department than the one I was in at Faurecia, which was going to be on first shift instead of third. Human Resourses called and told me to come back on first shift, while the other third shifters got to stay off and keep drawing unemployment, because they were only calling back first and second. When I got there, they told me I could just work on the line in my old department for a while because the new department wasn’t ready to start up yet. It was a nightmare, with the line running so fast. They moved me around to a lot of different places. Then one day, they put me on one of the hardest machines. The parts were stacking up behind me, and I was stressed. I decided that since I had plenty of attendance points, I’d use one of those and go home. My boss told me that was “abandoning the line,” but I left anyway. They fired me, and I didn’t get paid any of my paid-vacation hours either. I was angry, but it didn’t bother me too much, because I already had another job lined up at Apcom. I was already thinking about leaving Faurecia to go there, thinking it might be better, but it turned out not to be. At first, they had me doing a easy job pulling parts off a line. If I’d stayed there, it would’ve been great, but the guy I was working with took a leave of absence because he apparantly got Coronavirus, so they started moving me around to less pleasant jobs. After that, I just left. Then, I decided I needed to be really picky about the next job I chose. I went to one temp place, and they offered me a job, but wouldn’t tell me what it was unless I accepted, so I said no. I looked around and a lot of people were hiring, but I decided to hold out for something I thought would be tolerable. I looked at the job reviews for Atco, and people were talking about how easy it was, so I tried that. It was pretty easy, and the people seemed really nice. The only downside was that, since it was a company that contracted with GM and was located inside GM, the traffic leaving work was terrible. I was afraid of having a wreck every time I left the place. Then one day, the stress hit me at Atco. In factories, there’s a thing called “hot parts.” That means they have to be produce asap. Just before the pressure at work started to build up, I got a resentment in my head. I started thinking of something somebody said that made me mad, and what I could’ve said back to them. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, but I was supposed to be concentrating on this urgent job. When break time came, I was a mess, so I just walked out. I was devastated by my own failure and didn’t know what to do. I fell off my diet and exercise routine, eating junk food and sitting around the house. On the upside, I read a lot of good books. This is when I started getting into indie-horror. My Mom suggested I go to a therapist, so I started talking to one, not in person because of coronavirus restrictions, but on the phone. I enjoyed talking to her, but I’m not sure how much that helped. It just seemed like a normal conversation. She suggested I get a job as a stocker at Kroger. She thought maybe I could be by myself and not have to deal with as many personalities at that job. I started the job, and it was the same kind of nightmare as other fast-paced jobs, with the work piling up on me so I could never keep up. At the end of the first (and last) week, the timekeeping lady had a “talk” with me. She went off on me and was condescending because I did my timecard wrong. I wasn’t going to work somewhere that stressful where I was constantly being disrespected, so I didn’t go back. When I talked to the therapist again, I had to tell her I quit the job she suggested. I kept on talking to her about every two weeks and she prescribed Lexapro to me. It has helped me so far. After I was on the medication for a while, I started looking for another job, being particular about finding one that would suit me. I finally got a job at Flash Technologies. I’ve now been working there for three months, and enjoy it. It’s easy and stress-free. I’m back on my diet/exercise routine and things are going well. I’ve had the first Covid shot and am going to get the second one tomorrow. Reader, wish me luck!
States I’ve Visited
Alabama: I was born in a hospital in AL but was raised right across the state line in TN. Since my family lived right there, we would frequently be going back and forth between states, especially to visit the city of Florence where we would go shopping and do other fun things like eat at Showbiz pizza. In my younger years, I thought of it as an exciting town. I remember anticipating getting a driver’s license; my newfound freedom would include visiting Florence on my own or with my friends. When I was around thirty, I moved to Sheffield, one of the Quad-Cities of Florence, Muscle Shoals, Sheffield, and Tuscumbia, also known as the Shoals area. I lived in that general vicinity for about a decade, working in various factories and attending college. I graduated from the University of North Alabama in 2015. The most appealing thing about the Shoals is its musical heritage and current music scene. The music stores attracted me when I was younger, collecting cassette tapes and CDs, and when I got older and started collecting vinyl, I would frequent those places to talk with musicians and fans. There were also venues where you could see local bands and occasionally big-name acts. Florence is a very walkable city. When I lived downtown, I could walk to record stores, UNA’s campus, and concert venues. I was in a band that played around town regularly. We also played shows in Huntsville, Birmingham, and Tuscaloosa. Despite my affinity and nostalgic feelings towards AL, there is a stigma attached to it. In addition to its segregationist history, Roy Moore recently received the Republican nomination for Senator. (On a positive note, I was able to help Doug Jones defeat him by sending in an absentee ballot from NV.) They also passed a deplorable abortion bill; I haven’t been back to AL since that bill was passed.

Arizona: I worked as a network systems integrator for a company called Optinet, who did contract work with Cox Communications, and two of the cities we worked in were Phoenix and Tucson, AZ. Our company provided most of the internet and cable for those two cities, among others. It was an exciting time because of the opportunity to travel, but work and abrasive personalities caused stress. A defining quality of this part of the country is the dry heat. Fortunately, a lot of the work we did was in the a/c, but with temps pushing 120 degrees, the time we spent outside meant we had to stay hydrated. During my first stint in AZ, I lived in a house in Glendale with two other men. There were huge cacti in our front yard, as well as the yards of most of our neighbors. I travelled back and forth between Phoenix and Las Vegas a lot. There wasn’t much to see, other than nature, on the road-trip between those cities. During my second stint, I stayed at the Candlewood. After our contract with Cox ran out, I had some money saved up, so I spent some time road-tripping in this state. I visited the Grand Canyon and the meteor crater. I was fascinated by the crater because of its impact being so many thousands of years ago with humans possibly living there at the time, as well as the speed it was traveling and the impact it had on the environment. I love learning about that kind of stuff.

Arkansas: It’s been necessary for me to drive through this state in my journeys out West. I don’t care much for exploring it because I’ve lived in the South all my life and don’t think it has much to offer that AL and TN don’t have. The trials of the West Memphis 3 also add to the stigma for me. In fact, I once detoured into Louisiana just to avoid this state altogether. The only positive thing I have to say is that the Mississippi River looks beautiful crossing into it.

California: I’ve visited CA many times in my life and have almost always enjoyed being there. I visited twice with my family when I was a child. We stayed in San Diego and went to Disneyland, Tijuana, Universal Studios, Wild Animal Park, and other tourist attractions. The next time, I was in my thirties and went there with my friend R——, who was from there but living in AL. This was when I became painfully aware of my southern accent. It was so strong that people couldn’t even understand me! When we were living in Vegas, my friend S– and I took the four-hour drive to L.A. one weekend. We visited Santa Monica Pier and the Sunset Strip during the day. Highlights were Amoeba Records and the Hollywood Walk of Fame. My desire is to go back at night and experience the cool venues; to see if they live up to the hype. One of my favorite CA experiences was when we went to Santa Cruz for a short weekend to see the giant Redwoods and play a gig at Poet & Patriot Irish Pub. They were really into us; it was fun watching all the faces light up when we played. I think one reason we went over so well was the novelty of having a southern act play there in CA, which may not happen that often. One downside of the show was since I couldn’t bring my guitar on the plane, I had to borrow another performer’s guitar, which was a cheap one. It was fine for his rhythm playing, but when I started bending strings during solos, it went out of tune. The audience didn’t seem any less into it though, so perhaps I was the only one who noticed. After my Optinet stint, I was looking for a job out west so I could move there. It was kind of an aimless search, but one of my focus areas being El Centro, simply because my friend R—— lived there. My experience has been that the U.S. areas with the lowest cost-of-living are the South and Midwest, with CA having perhaps the highest cost, including the rural areas. I was determined to make a change though and thought since El Centro was such a miserably hot area, I could find a deal. I applied at some places, but couldn’t get a response anywhere, including temp agencies. Since El Centro, San Diego, and Yuma are border towns, being able to speak Spanish could’ve helped me find employment. I’ve wanted to learn Spanish, but I haven’t always often had people to talk to in that language, which is an important tool. Living in this area would help with the language problem, but the job/language dilemma is a vicious circle.

Update 12/7/19: I’m sitting here in Escondido Public Library writing this. I’m hoping to meet a lady for dinner later, but I think it’s still up in the air, because she didn’t know I wasn’t from the area, so I will probably find out shortly. If she cancels plans, then I will probably drive up to L.A. and walk on Hollywood Boulevard. There are a few things I want to do there and I’m sure there will be some good photo ops if I decide to go. The last two days have been interesting. I got off work Wednesday night at 10:30 and woke up at 3:25AM to get ready for my flight, which left at 7:25AM. The flight was long and uncomfortable, with a layover, and I was glad when I finally arrived in San Diego. I still had to get my rental car. I took one shuttle bus to the airport rental car station, then I had to take another shuttle bus because my rental car dealer was off-site. When I finally got my car, I realized I didn’t have a car-mount for my phone’s GPS, so I had to drive around for a while, looking for a place that sold one. Then I mounted my GPS and drove to Mission Beach. The ocean was beautiful. I was tired by this time and thought it would be convenient to book at Hyatt hotel, but the price was obscene, so I went ahead and booked an Airbnb. E—–, my friend from work, emphatically recommended Airbnb over hotels, and it was good advice. My first host was friendly and helped me with my situation, and the house was a short walk from the beach. By the time I got settled in I was so tired that the only thing I wanted to do was eat and go to sleep. I walked to a Taco Bell to get a cheat meal. When I returned to the house, I did my daily routine of 100 pushups and a 10-minute meditation with a reading of Tao Te Ching, then I crashed hard. I woke up refreshed on Friday morning and did the same daily routine. I went to the beach and walked around a little bit, then I texted my friend R——. (continued 12/9/19 in San Diego Airport) He told me when he would be home, so I drove to his house at that time. We rode around in my rental car and ran some errands in a shopping center. He got some food for the house at a dollar store. Then we went to a great Mexican restaurant. Some of the most authentic Mexican food in the U.S. can be found in San Diego, but the quality is still hit-or-miss for me. It can also be hard to find healthy options. I found a healthy option at this one (except for the small portion of chips), and the food was a hit. I just texted him. He said the name of the restaurant was Sombreros.

I had this idea of writing for my geographical location, and that’s what I’m trying to do now, so this section is not linear. Now I will tell what happened on 12/7. The lady, R—-, didn’t cancel when she found out I was not from CA, so I went with her instead of driving to L.A. I picked her up at her work and she wanted to go to a casino. She treated me to the buffet, so that was a major cheat meal. Then we went to play the machines, and I blew $20. I’m not much of a gambler, but it was exciting to explore a more rural part of CA with a friend. She helped me find a hotel that night for a good deal. Another lady, L—, sent me a message on Hinge early the next morning. We agreed to meet in Carlsbad for coffee and a walk on the beach. Again, I had to tell her I was from TN and she was ok with it. She showed up in a Titans shirt, and although I’m not a football fan, it was a nice gesture. I found her very attractive. I bought her a coffee and I got my usual espresso and sparkling water. We sat next to a huge map of the world and talked about travel. She’s been to Israel, England, and Hawaii. Our walk had a great view, looking down on the beach. Despite the cold weather, there were many people surfing. We parted around 10AM because she was meeting her 17-year-old son that morning. I drove back to San Diego and gave R—— the groceries he left in my car. There was another lady I was going to meet in La Jolla, but she cancelled after she found out I wasn’t a local. One thing I’ll do on my next trip is book all my stays ahead of time. It’s too much stress trying to find an immediate place to stay and driving there. People in SD are nice and friendly, but they’re asshole drivers.

Colorado: At one point during my job at Optinet, we were doing a lot of driving back and forth between Las Vegas and Wichita. The shortest, most convenient route was through AZ and NM, so that’s the one we usually took. But on one of our trips back to Vegas, we were feeling adventurous, so we decided to take the northern route through CO and UT instead. CO has some of the tallest mountains I’ve seen.

Florida: Alabamians and Tennesseans regularly visit the FL panhandle on vacation, and I’m no exception. I’ve visited the beaches of Pensacola, Destin, and Panama City many times. I feel like I used to turn into “Florida Man” whenever I went down there! Perhaps my most interesting FL story was the time I had very little money but decided to drive to Pensacola from Loretto with two of my broke friends anyway, just for the adventure. I had a quarter bag of weed so we smoked pin-joints periodically to stretch it out. We slept in my car on the beach and barely had enough gas to make it home. Another time, my friend G— and I went down there for vacation in my car. He had stopped drinking and using illegal drugs (I hadn’t), so he drove while I was drinking. I got drunk on Fosters 32 oz. cans, walked the beach for hours with no suntan lotion, and got probably the worst sunburn I’ve ever had. I had wrecked my car a few times and was using a rope to hold the hood down because it wouldn’t latch due to the impact. G— was driving us back to TN on the interstate at 60 mph when the rope loosened, causing the hood to fly up onto the windshield. He was able to pull to the side of the road with no problems, but that was a scary moment!

Georgia: Atlanta is a concert destination for many Alabamians if they are willing to make the trek. My friend and I had planned to go see the Descendents, and he flaked, so I ended up going by myself. I foolishly booked a cheap hotel, not fully realizing the dangers of booking in that high-crime area. I only stayed one night and moved to a safer area outside of Atlanta the next night. The Descendents rocked! Previous to this concert experience, my friend P—— and I visited GA on a “for the hell of it” trip. We went to a truck stop on the state line and I bought a Robin Williams cassette for the ride back.

Illinois: I’ve been to O’Hare International Airport on a college trip to China. We had a weather delay and had (or got) to spend more time there than expected. My friend C—- from work had been bragging about Chicago hot dogs, so I got a legit Chicago airport dog and sent him a picture. He was impressed! On one of our Optinet trips from KS to TN, while riding with my boss J—– and coworker S–, we drove through the southernmost tip of IL. I was able to look out the window of the moving truck and see where the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers met.

Indiana: One weekend when I was living in Florence, I was bored and felt like road-tripping, so I drove up to Evansville, IN. I had a horrible diet at the time that I believe caused me to feel tired all the time and have depression, so that’s what probably made the experience unpleasant overall. The Ohio River was the coolest part of the trip.

Kansas: I more or less lived at Candlewood Suites in Wichita when I was there working for Optinet. No matter what city you’re in, the rooms look the same, so it feels like déjà vu. It has a marketplace which allows you to charge food to the room, which influenced my own self-destructive behavior. I would lay in bed eating ice cream and watching Big Bang Theory. I gained a lot of weight working for this company. I did a long-distance carpool with S– for most of these trips, so I didn’t have my own ride while I was there. I used Uber and walked to a lot of places, my favorite being Barnes & Noble. Like Candlewood, B&N always looks the same, which is neat and comfortable in a way. You can always get a strong Starbucks espresso and count on certain books being there. Wichita B&N is where I really started to branch out from the limitations of genre-fiction to a broader array of topics like philosophy.

Kentucky: I’ve always wanted to visit as many states as possible, so one day I convinced my friend G— to ride from Loretto to Kentucky with me. We took Highway 31 (I think) and stayed high the whole trip. Unfortunately, my memory is failing me on this and some of the other “for the hell of it” trips. I get the KY trip mixed up with the time we went to MS for no reason. I remember that on our KY trip, G— told me he couldn’t get any weed, but when we started to head out, he surprised me with 3 fat joints. It seems like we went to a movie on one trip and went to a guitar shop on another.

Louisiana: When I was in college, we did an alternative spring break to help with the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. I don’t think we were very useful, but it was fun staying in the same house with all those students, sort of like being on MTV’s The Real World. We did yardwork during the day but were also able to do cool things every night, like go to Bourbon Street and the French Quarter. Everybody knows this, but they have great food!

Massachusetts: While staying in RI for the Necromonicon conference, I met a nice girl on Bumble. She lived in New Bedford, MA. Since I was staying in Warwick, we agreed to meet halfway in Seekonk for sushi at Mizu Asian Bistro. The first thing she noticed was my southern accent, which I thought she would be used to because she lived in Nashville for six months. The date was awkward at first but got more comfortable as we continued to talk. We stayed in the restaurant until they closed and stood outside in the cold for a while as I waited for my Uber. The wait was going to be a while, so we went into an ice cream shop in the same strip mall to warm up. Then we had to hurry up and eat the ice cream because the Uber was arriving. We went our separate ways and I hope we maintain a long-distance friendship.

Minnesota: When my friend S—and I flew from KS to CA to play a gig, we had a layover at MSP. I rented a car and we drove out to a hipster coffee shop in Minneapolis. That’s all we had time to do. The shop had a BLM sign, which I thought was cool. We enjoyed the espresso and sparkling water.

Mississippi: Iuka, MS is only 31 miles away from where I used to live in Sheffield, AL. I used to meet women online and drive to Iuka, Booneville, and Corinth for dates. We would do typical stuff like go to the movies, bowling, parks, restaurants, or sometimes just stay at her house. Dates are the only reason I recall going to MS other than driving out west and “for the hell of it.”

Missouri: One of the times I got to drive my own car from Loretto to Wichita for work, I decided to stop at a hotel in St. Louis. That night I strolled along the river and went to eat at a nice Italian restaurant. I was surprised at how uncrowded the area was, creating a solitary, peaceful experience. I was walking distance from the Gateway Arch, so the next day I took the tram ride to the top.

Nevada: The first time I ever got to drive out west was when I took my job at Optinet; my destination being Henderson, NV. It took me 2 ½ days to arrive at the house I’d be living in, on and off, for the next year. I pulled in the driveway, called my friend S–, and he rushed to meet me there. Sometimes they did work from inside the house, so he showed me what they’d been doing. Later, we worked on writing songs with my acoustic guitar. It was exiting to be expressing myself artistically so far from where I’d lived my whole life; something I’d always wanted to do. In the months that followed, we rented a practice space and met a bass player on Craigslist. We’d emailed him our songs, and to our delight, he could play them on the first day we practiced with him at the practice room we’d been renting, so we were immediately able to start booking gigs. We played at Double Down Saloon and Evel Pie, which is located on Fremont Street. I learned there that the dryness of the desert will make your guitar go out of tune. Some gigs went well, others not-so-well, but made great memories. We also filmed a music video on Fremont. One of the most surreal moments was when I saw Jello Biafra browsing at 11th Street Records during Punk Rock Bowling and had a short conversation with him. I was starstruck for sure.

New Jersey: I don’t have much to say about NJ. On my trip to New York in Dec. 2019, I flew into EWR and took the train into NYC. It was one of the few subway experiences I’ve had so far and was a pleasant one; very convenient and timely.

New Mexico: NM is another state I drive through on my way out west. Route 66 is the most convenient way to Vegas as well as El Centro. I’ve driven through this state by myself and with my boss J—–, a Trump supporter who likes to spout pro-Trump rhetoric, making my time with him less-than-pleasant. Unfortunately, I haven’t done much in NM other than sleep in hotels.

New York: NY was the first time I flew out for a long-distance trip, all on my own. I booked a flight to NYC during Christmas break of 2017. My hotel was a short distance from several of the most famous landmarks. I could walk to Times Square, the Empire State Building, and the clothing store that used to be CBGB’s. I did a bus tour of the city and saw the Statue of Liberty from a distance. One of the songs that was playing on the bus was “New York, New York” by Frank Sinatra. I’ve loved that song ever since then. But it was so cold that I didn’t enjoy it as much as I could have. I hope to go back again when it’s warmer.

Update 12/28/19: I’m sitting in a Gregorys Coffee in NYC writing this. I haven’t even been in NYC for a whole day yet and I have so much to write. My New York experience was amazing and cool from the very start, because as soon as I arrived on the train here, my friend W- messaged me and told me she was ready to meet up. I hadn’t even dropped my bags off at the hotel yet. I met her at a coffee shop, then we found my hotel so I could. She asked me where I wanted to go eat, and I said I liked Thai food. She told me she was from Thailand, which I didn’t know, and she jokingly said she could just cook it for me. We went to zoob zib thai noodle bar. It was some of the best, if not the best, Thai food I’ve ever had. Most of the Thai food I’ve eaten was in Vegas, but I’ve also eaten it in AL and TN. The AL and TN restaurants couldn’t hold a candle to this. Plus, I was eating with a Thai food expert, and she knew to ask them for the spices you otherwise wouldn’t get. Then we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. When she first suggested going to a museum, I was like, whatever. I remembered going to museums in China that I wasn’t thrilled by. But this one was amazing. The first section we visited was the European section. There were all these paintings, mostly Biblical paintings depicting Christ in different ways, from the 15th, 16th, and other centuries. They were in great condition to be that old. Then we visited the Egyptian section, which was much older, with relics dating back to 3500 B.C. There were mummies dating back to a few hundred years B.C. We spent a few hours there, then she said she was tired and ready to go home; she had been up a long time. I had too, since 3:15AM, and even though it was only around 6PM, it would take us both a while to get back. We probably only saw 1/3 of that museum, and I regret not seeing the Greek and Roman section. I’ve read some of the ancient Greek philosophers, so it has a special place in my heart. The time I spent with L- was a highlight of my 2019 NYC trip. She is an amazing and beautiful woman.

North Carolina: This one is hard to write about because I don’t really remember going there. My parents claim I visited NC with them when we went to the Smoky Mountains in my youth. The Smoky Mountains are on the TN/NC border, so I’ll tell about one of those trips, even if I didn’t cross the border on that particular one. When my friend G— and I graduated high school, we traveled up there. All I remember is we rode go-karts and listened to KISS Destroyer on cassette in his car.

Oklahoma: Like a few of these states, OK is one I just passed through and didn’t do much in, but it’s still special to me because it was the first place I arrived at in my journey out West that seemed different from where I was from. This was because of all the casinos. Once I passed the AK/OK state-line, casinos were everywhere, and they were a constant for the rest of my drive to Vegas.

Pennsylvania: I had recently quit my accounting job in Lewisburg, TN and moved back to the Shoals area to be closer to my band. I was working a 3rd shift temp job that paid next-to-nothing but had some money from when I cashed-out my 401k. Since it was a crap-job, I didn’t mind laying out Friday and Monday to do a 4-day trip to Philadelphia to see Iggy Pop with my rhythm guitarist, S—–. Post Pop Depression had just come out, and I bought the record at Pegasus, a music store that was walking distance from where I lived at the time, but, unfortunately, is now closed. I played this LP repeatedly in preparation for the concert. I have to say, Philly is one of my favorite cities and the show was one of the best I’ve ever seen. The city is a big one (the kind I like), and the old, Georgian architecture is beautiful. David Bowie had just died, and Iggy played songs from 2 of his Bowie-produced albums, The Idiot and Lust for Life, along with the new album. We were walking distance from everything, so we didn’t have to Uber or taxi anywhere. We saw the Liberty Bell and other sites associated with the Founding Fathers.

Rhode Island: I sit in Café Tempo of Warwick, RI as I write this. There’s some anxiety because my debit card was declined for Uber, causing me to switch to Lyft. If Lyft declines my future payments, I’ll have trouble getting to the airport, but I’m going to risk it because there are more places I’d like to visit, like the beach. I came to RI because H.P. Lovecraft’s Necromonicon conference was happening this weekend. I was going to do a walking tour of Lovecraft’s places of interest in Providence, but the one I arrived for was cancelled. I was told at the Bitmore hotel that I could do my own walking tour with a map they provided, and what I ended up doing was walking from there to Lovecraft’s grave in Swan Point Cemetery. The place was quite large; one of the most beautiful cemeteries I’ve seen, and I was concerned my phone might die before I found the grave, making it impossible to contact a ride back to my hotel, but I found the gravestone on time and arrived at my hotel safely. EDIT: I’m finishing writing this section in Loretto, TN. After I left Café Tempo, I went to Warwick City Park, where people were playing baseball (or softball; I don’t know). I walked the walking trail and found some water, though not a beach. Then I walked 3-4 miles to the airport with everything I brought on my back, arriving extra early for my flight back to TN. I don’t know how much that backpack weighed, but it was tiring after a while. I got some exercise that weekend and saved money by walking instead of Uber-ing. Overall, it was a cheap, quick, spontaneous trip. However, next time I go to New England, I plan on renting a car.

Tennessee: I’m a Tennessean. I was raised in Loretto, TN and went to elementary and high school there. The partying I did in my 20’s was mostly done in Loretto, Lawrenceburg, and surrounding areas. Lawrenceburg is only 15 miles away from Loretto, but it seemed like a whole other country when I was young. Many of my Loretto friends were rednecks, while my Lawrenceburg friends were more punk or alternative. My failed bands from those two towns rarely played anywhere other than house parties. I’ve been to many concerts in TN. I saw Ozzy Osbourne 5 times in Nashville and once in Memphis. I saw the original KISS (with makeup) twice in Nashville and once in Memphis. The shows I saw in Memphis were at the Pyramid, which is now a Bass Pro Shop. Some of the now deceased performers I saw were B.B. King, Dimebag Darrell, Layne Staley, Peter Steele, and Chris Cornell. The most memorable concert venue for me and many others was Starwood Amphitheatre. Along with seeing my favorite big-name acts, I would meet many of my friends from both Loretto and Lawrenceburg while roaming the grounds. In ’96 and ’97, it was important for me to go to as many concerts as possible, and I went to a lot. I’m more familiar with TN and AL than any other states, but the big difference between the two is that I was drunk and high in TN but sober in AL. Many of my TN acquaintances remember my drunken past, while the ones from AL have never seen me that way (thank God). I worked in Pulaski and lived in Bodenham for a couple of months. I could work a 12-hour shift, get off and go get drunk, then come back to work on a couple hours of sleep, still reeking of alcohol, and work another 12. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t still be able to do that at age 43.

Texas: It’s a big state with much to explore, but I’m not a fan of the places I’ve visited there. I didn’t love my drives through the panhandle. I know some people from Amarillo and feel sorry for them because that city reeks with the smell of cow patties. Here’s an example of an unpleasant experience in TX: I stopped at a motel to stay for the night. There was a white man, wearing camouflage, yelling at a man of Indian ethnicity, I presume, about the service he received during his stay. He shouted (I paraphrase) “You think all us Americans are stupid!” The fallacy in this statement is that the white man isn’t necessarily any more American than the Indian, but this, along with reading Toni Morrison, reinforces my suspicion that many people only associate Americanism with whiteness.

Utah: I rode through UT with my friend S— on our way from Wichita to Vegas. We didn’t really get to experience that state because we were driving the whole time. We listened to a lot of music on these trips. I would pick an album to listen to, then he would pick one, alternating for the whole trip. The only place we stopped at in UT was a Mexican restaurant.

Virginia: When I was a sophomore in high school, I went on a trip with the marching band to Washington D.C. I don’t see how we could have possibly driven from Loretto to D.C. without going through Virginia, so I’m assuming we did, though I don’t remember anything about that state. I was quite the juvenile delinquent at the time and didn’t enjoy the trip. I was disciplined by my educators and also bullied by other students, mostly because of my own behavior.

Washington: This is probably the shortest amount of time I’ve spent in a state. I was flying from Nashville to San Diego, with a one-hour layover in Seattle. Naturally, most of the time during the layover was spent finding my terminal and getting a bite to eat. I took a few pictures out the window of the plane of the trees, the ocean, and the city.

Conclusion: One never knows what ideas and memories the act of writing will bring about. The process of writing this essay has caused memories to come rushing back to me and made me grateful for the opportunities I’ve had in this amazing life. I’ve also visited the countries of Mexico, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, China, and England, so I realize the U.S. is just a tiny section of the globe. I currently have a valid passport, so I’m ready to branch out even further to have experiences and explore cultures the U.S. can’t fully offer.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

I’m a huge fan of horror and have been reading more of it since I started working graveyard shift. It’s a shame I arrived at this masterpiece as late as I did. It’s a game-changer, to say the least; surely it influenced all the horror/sci-fi that came after it. Dante’s Inferno is the only major work of horror I know of to come before it, although it’s so much like the Bible that it’s really not the same at all. (Mary Shelley, Percy Shelley, and Lord Byron read German ghost stories, so perhaps that’s something to look into.) Pet Sematary by Stephen King is the first derivative book that comes to mind. Both books are about sparking life into something, only to have it wreak havoc and murder your family and friends. I’m sure this influenced H.P. Lovecraft’s writing as well; he was well-read and familiar with this work.

The letters at the beginning describing Walton’s adventures in the Arctic are fairly dry, so I was glad when it got to Dr. Frankenstein’s narrative, which starts out explaining how the study of science can sometimes bring about things we might not expect or want. Shelley’s prophecy of AI was especially novel to me considering how primitive technology was in the early 19th century, before the industrial revolution. It’s quite an emotional book that takes you into the lives of both Dr. Frankenstein and the monster. Frankenstein put so much passion into and got so much joy from his project, only to have it turn into something that created misery. The monster had love in his heart and wanted to be part of society, but rejection caused him to turn evil.

 

 

The Stranger by Albert Camus

The Stranger is my introduction to existentialism; it explains Albert Camus’s philosophy of the “absurd” in the format of a novel. The first thing I noticed was that the first-person writing showed little emotion and mostly portrayed the situation with objective facts. But I slowly realized the protagonist, Monsieur Meursault, didn’t have the ability to feel deep emotions. You might call him a sociopath or a nihilist, but I’m not sure if those words are entirely accurate. He just can’t make himself care about anything, because he realizes the “absurdity” of existence. The other characters, however, are quite emotional, and part of what makes this story unique is their own frustration at Meursault’s detachment. Philosophical novels like this and Thus Spoke Zarathustra are special to me because they introduce an entirely new school of thought with great storytelling, kind of like killing two birds with one stone. This book piqued my interest in Camus, absurdity, and existentialism; I immediately started reading The Myth of Sisyphus after finishing this. 4 1/2 stars.

Edit: Now that I’ve read more of Camus’s work, including The Myth of Sisyphus and most of The Plague, I’ll say that this is the best one so far. This is probably an unpopular opinion, but I like Sartre more than Camus. If you’re interested in French existentialism, read this as an introduction to Camus and “The Wall” as an introduction to Sartre. They made me realize how crazy it is that nobody in the world really has any idea what’s going on.

Critias by Plato

I confess, I’ve been struggling to reach my quota of 52 books for this year’s reading challenge, and that’s part of the reason why I picked this short book. (It’s down to the wire now; I’ll be finishing my last book on New Year’s Eve.) But in spite of its short length, it was a satisfying read. I’ve heard Atlantis being referenced by modern authors in ways that made it sound mysterious and dreamy, so I was curious to read about it from an earlier source like Plato, even though the city supposedly existed thousands of years before his time. (It probably didn’t exist in reality, but it may have existed in people’s minds, being passed down from generation to generation.) This is a good example of why I want to read books from different eras: so I can unlock the mysteries of the history of thought. I’m a fan of Socrates, so it was refreshing when he made his appearance, even though this wasn’t like his typical dialogues. He just does a little introduction and his buddy Critias tells the story. Critias’s description of the city is beautiful and poetic. Jowett’s analysis takes up a good part of the book and is insightful. I would give it 4.5 stars, but I have to take off one star for its abrupt ending, leaving it at 3.5.

Junky by William Burroughs

I listened to the audiobook on YouTube. There are two different audiobooks, one read by the author and one read by David Carradine. The reader is not credited in the YouTube video, but I’m guessing it’s the author. He has a raspy voice, but it works well for the reading. This was my first time reading anything from the beat generation, unless you count Charles Bukowski, who came along a little later. I tried reading some Jack Kerouac things and didn’t get into them right away, so I moved on to this. Kerouac’s stuff seemed to be more about drinking and chasing women, which I had read a lot about already in Bukowski’s novels. In fact, there’s very little mention of women (boys only!) in Junky at all. Heroin seems like an interesting topic for a beat author, considering how addictive it is, the lifestyle associated with it, things people are willing to do to get it, what the highs and withdrawals feel like, and the process of forming a habit. I’m sure this book was influential and there are a lot of books with this content today, but one thing that made this book great was the time period in which it was written, demonstrating the cultural zeitgeist. There’s a lot of hipster slang like “stool-pigeon” and “lush-worker” used in the book. There’s also homosexuality, which was taboo at the time. I appreciate that authors like Burroughs and James Baldwin had the courage to write about such topics. What appeals to and surprises me about a lot of books from this era are how relevant they still are today.

The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli

This was my last book of 2019. I had one more book to read to complete my reading challenge, and I finished this short one on New Year’s Eve. There were a couple other reasons I wanted to read this. One is that I hadn’t read many books from the 14th century. I don’t know of many other popular authors from this era other than Shakespeare. (If you have any suggestions, let me know.) Another reason is that I hear the term “Machiavellian” used pretty often and wanted to know, from the source, what it was all about, especially before I expressed my opinion on Machiavellianism. So anyway, here’s my opinion on it. I think it’s generally associated by many, but not necessarily all or most people, with corrupt or unethical politics, and this isn’t a nuanced view. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and sometimes you have to step on a few toes, but the end justifies the means, according to Machiavelli. He wants all the good stuff for the people, like peace, harmony, and progress, but is being pragmatic in his approach. On the other hand, the horrible behavior of some politicians, billionaires, and the military-industrial-complex, I call “pseudo-Machiavellianism.” There’s no end justified by the means in these cases other than their own greed.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

My introduction to Shirley Jackson was The Lottery, and I was blown away. I knew I had to read more by her and thought because it’s currently Halloween season, this was a great time to start. The Haunting of Hill House is the first full-length novel I’ve read by her, and it’s a good one. I consider myself to be fairly well-read in the horror genre; I’m familiar with King, Lovecraft, Poe, and Dante, but I discovered Jackson a little late. I can definitely see how she influenced Stephen King’s writing. Lovecraft was also an influence on King, but I always thought King spent more time on character development than Lovecraft and that his characters were more relatable. (Not to take anything away from Lovecraft; he’s great.) Jackson may be one of the first horror authors to develop characters as well as she did. I felt more attached to her characters than I did to any of the characters in horror novels written before her time. There were several moments in the book that gave me chills; this is one of the best indicators of a great horror novel. As I approached the end of the book, I remembered how great The Lottery’s ending was, and I felt that this was going to have an epic ending as well. I was not disappointed; the ending gave me the biggest chill of all. This is a scary book!

Tartuffe by Molière

This is one of the few books I’ve read that I actually find funny. Madame Pernelle and Orgon are some pretty big suckers, and unfortunately, I know some people who are just like that. They praise a man for his pious Christianity, and when those around them point out his obvious hypocrisy, they respond by saying “Nobody’s perfect,” pointing out the flaws of others with their ‘whataboutism.’ Tartuffe just tells them what they want to hear. Does this remind you of anybody? Oh yeah, Trumpers.

The play was surprisingly good at making me wonder what was going to happen next, especially during Act IV, when Orgon hid under the table. I was thinking he would still defend Tartuffe even after he made out with his wife, but he finally came around. The only thing I didn’t like that much was how the King saved the day in the end and Molière had to brown-nose him. I found it ironic how he had to treat the King the same way they treated Tartuffe. A lot of 15th and 16th century literature tends to praise royalty with contradictory hidden meanings.

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

There’s some debate about whether Wuthering Heights is a love story, and I believe it is absolutely a story of Heathcliff’s undying love for Catherine. He cared only for her and thought “To hell with everybody else!” He is the villian you love to hate. I had trouble keeping up with the characters at first, so it was useful for me to reference this list on the book’s Wikipedia page: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wutheri…

There are many to remember, but it gets easier as some of them die off and you become familiar with the remaining ones. I read most of it in the hardcover version, and a portion of it on audiobook:

Ruth Golding did an excellent job in the reading, especially with the voices for all the different people. She used a deep voice for Mr. Heathcliff, and a high-pitch voice for Cathy Linton. Her accent suits the novel well. I sometimes have trouble with older English literature, but I enjoyed the language in this and was happy in understanding it well. If you can keep up with the characters, it is entertaining throughout. Heathcliff always comes across as mean-spirited, but in Chapter 29 it all turned around for me; this is where he opens up and reiterates the obsession he had earlier with Catherine when she was still alive. After that, there was, not an excuse for, but an understanding of, his behavior. I think the novel may have had some influence on modern soap operas. It reminded me of some of their narratives.

The Republic by Plato

It is widely believed that The Republic by Plato is essential reading for anybody who takes philosophy seriously, and now I understand why. Its dialogues set the tone for all subsequent Western philosophy and made an honest search for the truth seem cool (at least for me). As in many of Plato’s works, Socrates is the protagonist. He’s the one who goes up to everybody and starts arguments, asking many questions and pointing out inconsistencies. Some people give him a hard time, but I have a huge amount of admiration for his legacy; I wish I could go back in time and philosophize with him. More people should look to Socrates and use debate for truth-seeking rather than just winning arguments. When you find the truth, both sides win.

Part I starts with Socrates leading a debate with several other men on what the definitions of justice and injustice are. Everybody has slightly different ideas, but Socrates is able to persuade everyone but Thrasymachus, who believes that justice is the interest of the stronger. Part II continues their debate about justice, with Thrasymachus arguing that individuals benefit from unjust acts, and Socrates claiming that society as a whole benefits from justice. This is the closest thing that I’ve seen to a heated debate in Socratic dialogues.

Part III is concerned with education. The Republic was written in 380 B.C., before the time of Christ, and much of their theology was derived from ancient Greek poets like Homer. Their discussion was about what types of poetry young people should be exposed to. They agreed that it should express courage and strength, rather than the “woe is me” type poetry that might encourage weakness. I believe this is also the section where they discussed music theory and which modes were proper. I learned all the modes on guitar when I was younger, and I still use them. Each mode has its own personality, as Plato describes. They also agreed that males and females should receive the same education, which is fascinating considering how many societies throughout history have been patriarchal.

In Parts IV and V, they discuss how the members of society will be happy in filling their appropriate roles, whether it be leader or auxiliary. They should have specialized jobs so that they can become experts in their fields and more efficient. There will be no “jack-of-all-trades” in this society. It may be hard to live up to this ideal, but Plato’s goal seems to be justice and equality. Part VI discusses the family. Women can have the same jobs as men, as long as it is fitting. But the family must be abolished, so that everyone will treat each other the same, without preferential treatment. Also, this will help the State to breed ideal citizens.

Part VII deals with the famous “Allegory of the Cave” which compares ignorance to seeing shadows on the wall of a cave, rather than seeing the actual objects. The “philosopher king” must be brought up to be able to see the actual objects and not just the shadows. Part VIII, my favorite section, discusses the four unjust constitutions. They are timocracy, oligarchy, democracy, and tyranny. He believes that the philosopher king is superior to any of these forms of government. I enjoyed this section because of how it relates to today’s governments.

Part IX is where everything starts to come full circle as we approach our conclusion. He points out how because the tyrannical man has so much inner conflict, his selfishness cannot make him happier than the philosopher king. It is virtue in itself that makes the philosopher happy. In this, he is taking one more jab at Thrasymachus’s argument. Part X is a bizarre detour into how poetry doesn’t help society. I disagree with this section, but I guess it’s just a product of its time. Part XI is a beautiful conclusion discussing reincarnation and how people get to choose their next life after they die. The Republic was an amazing book and an inspiration.

I’m so jealous of Bill and Ted!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BvYRq…

The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley

This book narrates one of Aldous Huxley’s mescaline trips. Taking this drug allows his consciousness to walk through “doors” and perceive things in a different way. When he comes back through the doors, he is enlightened and changed forever. The subject material of this book is similar to much of the Zen literature that I’ve been reading lately. A problem with Eastern thought is that you can understand “oneness” intellectually but still feel isolated. Huxley claims that mescaline can help the subject have a real transcendental experience. Native American cultures had a practice of using mescaline and therefore had a different view of the world than Westerners. One problem Westerners have is that the culture revolves so much around assigning language and symbols to everything that they can only see life that way. They have a constant mental monologue in whatever language they happen to speak. The main thing I learned from this book was to try to view the world, especially during meditation, without having to assign man-made symbols to everything. However, I never use any drugs other than caffeine and ibuprofen, so I’ll to do it without the aid of certain mind-altering chemicals.

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

I gave Ethan Frome, by Wharton, 5 stars, and this one gets 5 stars too, but for different reasons. Ethan Frome was an un-put-down-able page-turner and an easy read, and The Age of Innocence was not quite like that. It required a lot more out of me as a reader. Even though the books were similar in that they were both about a love triangle, the writer’s approach to them was so different that I was amazed at her ability to write in these two different styles, an ability unmatched by any other authors I know of. And what a heartbreaking ending! Certainly, some delayed gratification there.

But what really made this book special to me was the coincidence of my reading it at the same time I visited New York City. The hotel I stayed at was on 5th Avenue, a setting of much of the book. I even visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which was also mentioned in the book. So here I was in this wonderful city, reading this amazing book, imagining what it must have been like in that time period. On social media, Goodreads often asks, “If you could be transported to the setting of the book you’re currently reading, where would you be?” Well, I was there!

 

Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant

I read a 224-page abridged version first, so I got to double down on some of the most important parts and get a deeper understanding of this laborious read. I spent a lot of time reading pre- and post-Kantian philosophy, as well as two short books by Kant himself, in order to prep for this. If you are new to philosophy and metaphysics, don’t just dive right into this. Check out some of the major figures who are easier to understand than Kant. You’re probably going to need to look up a lot of words. This is where a Kindle comes in handy; when you have to look up three or four (Kantian) words per page, it’s nice to be able to pull it up right there. And don’t skimp on the definitions; if you don’t understand the words, you won’t understand the philosophy. This book has improved and increased my vocabulary. Critique has not only helped me understand philosophy, but also metaphysical fiction and science. Because of this newfound knowledge, my re-reading of Descartes’s Discourse on Method has been exponentially more rewarding than the first time. Critique is the most difficult book I’ve read, and part of what made it so fun was the challenge. Unlike many post-Kantian philosophers, he did not incorporate Eastern philosophy, so this is like the culmination of Western philosophy before the two regions merged. Although he was not involved in scientific research, his views on space and time are obviously influential on today’s physicists. Kant was not only a great philosopher but also a great writer and used skill in bringing the theme of this treatise around to its title. As a reader, I had an epiphany of “Pure Reason.”

If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin

I’ve read many of Baldwin’s books, but up until this one, they’ve all been in audio format, and I don’t get as much out of audio as I do visual, so when I saw this short one in the library, I checked it out to experience him in a different, better way that helps me retain more. There’s a new movie out based on this novel, but that doesn’t have anything to do with my choosing this, unless it’s subconscious. This book was written later in Baldwin’s career, and he was never one to mince words, but I feel he became even blunter as he got older (is that possible?). As with many of his works, it’s full of emotion, and if you’re sensitive it’ll probably make you cry. Along with the horrible circumstances, there’s some lawyerly stuff in there, which is like some John Grisham stuff I’ve read and makes me wonder if Baldwin was an influence on him. The only gripe I have is that it’s too short, knocking it down to 4.5 stars but still rounding up to 5. I’ve never read a book that left me hanging as much as this; I especially wondered whether Fonny would get out of jail. This book needs a sequel! But this hanging suspense is actually a testament to the brilliance of the author.

Becoming by Michelle Obama

“If somebody wrote a book about your life, would anybody want to read it?”

This slogan for the U.S. Navy always makes me think of two things: my own life (it was unsuccessful in making me want to join the Navy, however), and biographies. Every biography I read makes me realize that that person had an amazing and eventful life, unlike people who have not and never will have a biography. Most of the biographies I’ve read have been about musicians and gave me a vicarious pleasure linked to my own dream of “becoming” a successful musician. But I’ve never wanted to live in the White House (it appears Michelle Obama didn’t have much of a desire to, either), so this book didn’t have the same effect on me.

I voted for Mrs. Obama’s husband three times; once in the primaries, twice in the general, and I think he’s the best President of my lifetime. I just haven’t found mainstream political figures to be very interesting. The pressure to avoid any type of scandal removes any type of edginess that might make this biography appeal to me more. I do respect Obama’s agenda of fighting childhood obesity and promoting a healthy lifestyle. I know a lot of overfed rednecks hated her for that, but they would’ve hated anything she did. I work out and try to eat healthy, and I think it should be encouraged rather than discouraged. Although some of the book only revived my disdain for Trump and his legion of deplorables, its theme continued Barack’s message of “hope,” so it had a positive vibe overall.

Tartuffe by Molière

(The one star rating is for the W. Baker, J. Miller translation.)

I originally read this in a Western Literature class in college and thought it was great. Here’s the link to the textbook for the class I was in: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1…

Recently, I found this tiny paperback edition in a used bookstore for a dollar, so I thought I’d give it a revisit. However, as I have discovered time and again, translations are often vastly different, and this one was unreadable in spite of it being a prose version. I have yet to finish it. It did pique my curiosity in comparing the two versions, so I went out and bought my old textbook.

Richard Wilbur’s poetic translation was just as good as I remember; the meter and rhyme was smooth and the wording was easy to understand. If you are interested in classical literature but struggle with it, I recommend The Norton Anthology because I have found their selections to be reliable as well as comprehensive.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

This is a perfect, beautiful, heartbreaking novel. Surely it personifies the jazz age, the roaring twenties, and NYC, in an unrivaled way. I’ve always been vaguely aware of that era and Fitzgerald brings those images to life. Chapter 2 was where I really started feeling the emotions and nostalgia. The narrator, Nick Carraway, goes to a party where he gets drunk for the second time in his life. The writing eloquently describes how alcohol can change the mood of a room; from boredom, to excitement and fun, then sometimes to dispute or violence. But this is just warming you up for the crux of the story, Jay Gatsby’s hopeless longing for the past. Many of us yearn for the “good ole’ days,” some because we just miss being young, some for other reasons, and that’s what this is about. I feel this book is a double entendre as well, because it romanticizes the 1920s. But there’s a lesson to be learned here: Live in the moment, don’t chase the past. Doing so probably won’t end as tragically for you as it did for Gatsby, but it’s still pointless.

“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year after year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter – tomorrow we will run faster, stetch out our arms farther… . And one fine morning –

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

Six stars. Going on the display shelf.

(I watched the movie shortly after reading this and was impressed with how true it was to the book; part of that due to it being a long movie and short book.)

Dante’s Inferno by Dante Alighieri

“At tragedies, bullfights, and crucifixions he has so far felt best on earth; and when he invented hell for himself, behold, that was his heaven on earth.” -Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

I recommend Mark Musa’s translation, with notes by Lee Patterson. I found this in The Norton Anthology of Western Literature, Volume 1. I started out reading John Ciardi’s translation but had to switch over because I found the verse structure unreadable. Inferno appealed to me for two reasons: the first being Lovecraft’s reverence for him and his influence on the horror genre; the second being that I hadn’t read much literature from Dante’s time.

The book gives an interesting historical perspective from one man’s point of view; he does some cool name-dropping of historical figures which makes it a lot more interesting. The protagonist is given a tour of the nine circles of Hell by the Roman poet Virgil. As they descend further into Hell, the sins and punishments become greater. Dante gives vivid descriptions and gory details of the appropriate punishments for the many sinners they encounter. Finally, they reach the ninth circle, which is for the worst sin of all, treason, and they encounter Lucifer himself. What an epic ending to an exciting and horrific masterpiece!

 

The Possibility of Evil by Shirley Jackson

What can I say? Shirley Jackson always hits them out of the ballpark, and she definitely did with this one. I love how all her stories are set in some podunk town, full of simple people with boring lives. Mrs. Strangeworth is just some old lady who’s always lived in this town; her life is this town, so she wants to control it. She does so by writing anonymous letters that manipulate people to do her will. I feel like this story may have been an influence on Stephen King’s Needful Things, which has a similar theme. But I found Jackson’s story to be much creepier; I had some major chills while listening to the audiobook. It was narrated by Edward E. French and his voice added to the creepiness of it.

What I love about Jackson’s writing is that she never tries to be edgy or overly gory. Sometimes I feel like “horror” writing can be the equivalent of the boogeyman jumping out from behind the shower curtain in a horror movie; it’s more startling or shocking than it is scary. But Jackson’s writing is subtler and more gradual. It’s straight-up horror.

The Great and Secret Show by Clive Barker

I just finished reading The Great and Secret Show for the 3rd time. It’s a masterpiece of metaphysical fiction and I believe it’s Clive Barker’s greatest work. The character development is the best of any book I’ve read. There are many characters, and most of them play an important role; I could relate to each one, or at least I could imagine what it would be like to have them in my life. This is the first time I’ve felt I could comment on so many of the major characters of a book, and that’s what I’ll attempt to do in this review.

Randolph Jaffe: I suppose Jaffe could be considered the protagonist; he’s the first major character to be introduced, he discovers the Art, and he remains part of the story until the end. But there are other characters as important as he is. The story of how he discovers the Art is fascinating. The Dead Letter Room at the Omaha Central Post Office is where letters that never find their destination go to die. Jaffe studies them and gets hints from the letter-writers to the nature of the Art, a collective imagination, if you will. He leaves the Dead Letter Room and heads out on a journey to obtain this Art.

Homer: He’s not really a major character because he gets killed off rather quickly. He’s one of those jerk-bosses that most people have had at least a few times in their lives. His employee at the Post Office, Jaffe, seems to have worked for a lot of people like him in his pathetic life. Once Jaffe discovers the secret of the Art, he realizes he doesn’t have to put up with his condescending attitude anymore, so before he quits his job, he murders Homer.

Kissoon: There are some gross, creepy characters in this book, but Kissoon is by far the worst. Back long ago, he was a member of the Shoal. The Shoal was a small, cult-like religion that gained control of the metaphysical world (achieving what other religions only attempted). They used the Art to access Quiddity, the dream sea, which was made up of people’s thoughts. Kissoon lives in a shack in a time-loop that he created; it’s the only place he can stay safe. Jaffe is the first character he pulls into the loop. He tries to occupy Jaffe’s body, so he can leave the loop and pursue the Art. However, Jaffe escapes Kissoon’s advances and continues his journey. Later, Kissoon will draw other characters into his loop.

Richard Wesley Fletcher: This is the character that will become Jaffe’s arch-rival. Fletcher is the good-guy and Jaffe is the bad-guy (although it’s not quite that simple). In his lab at the Misión de Santa Catrina, he develops a potion called the Nuncio that allows people to access the Art when they ingest it. Jaffe finds the mission and confronts Fletcher; they fight over the Nuncio and both end up drinking part of it. Then Jaffe sets out across the United States with Fletcher pursuing him; they battled by manipulating the minds of humans and animals. They finally grow tired and land in a cave in Palamo Grove, California where they will stay until the League of Virgins arrive.

Raul: He’s the most lovable, innocent character in the book. He was an ape until Fletcher experimented on him by giving him the Nuncio, causing him to evolve and become an ugly, bizarre half-human/half-ape. He stays with Fletcher at the Misión de Santa Catrina until Jaffe and Fletcher have their battle and leave; after that he waits patiently several years for Fletcher (his master) to come back. However, Fletcher dies before he ever has a chance to come back. Raul doesn’t really play a major role in the story until later when Tesla arrives at the Mission and they both go on some crazy adventures!

Tesla Bombeck: She is probably the most relevant character besides Jaffe; she arrives on the scene a little later but is a constant until the end. She is recruited by Fletcher to do his work and, with the help of Raul, works to carry out his mission after his death.

At the start of Part Two: The League of Virgins, Arleen Farrell, Carolyn Hotchkiss, Joyce McGuire, and Trudi Katz go bathe in the cave where the spirits of Jaffe and Fletcher are trapped. They all become possessed with a desire to get pregnant by surrogate fathers, so they can have the children of Jaffe and Fletcher.

Arleen Farrell: She is the most attractive of the four virgins. After she becomes possessed, her plan for getting pregnant is to sneak out of her parents’ house every night and head down to a local dive bar called The Slick where she is promiscuous with several men. However, she is unable to get pregnant. She ends up going insane and staying in a mental hospital.

Lawrence Farrell: He is Arleen’s father. He tries to stop her from being wild, but to no avail. One night he follows her to The Slick where he finds her in an orgy. He tries to stop the men from having sex with her but ends up being assaulted. She is oblivious to his injuries, causing him humiliation and despair. He ends up suing and getting The Slick shut down.

Carolyn Hotchkiss: She is overweight and the most insecure of the four girls. She finds an older man named Edgar Lott to impregnate her, then cuts ties when she is done with him. She gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl, but the boy was delivered dead. After she realizes the true horror of her situation, she kills her daughter and commits suicide.

Jim Hotchkiss: He is Carolyn’s father. He doesn’t play a significant role in the story until much later in Part Seven: Souls at Zero. Here he is portrayed as someone who has an unhealthy obsession with the memory of his daughter. He teams up with Tesla, Grillo, and William Witt to retrieve Jaffe from the cave where he is hiding so he can aid them in the battle over Quiddity.

Joyce McGuire: She already had a crush on Randy Krentzman before the cave incident, so her decision to pursue him for sex was an easy one. She gives birth to twins Jo-Beth and Tommy-Ray, two major characters in the book. Jaffe is their surrogate father. She and her children continue to live together in Palamo Grove; she becomes devoutly religious and has contempt for Jaffe, hoping to never encounter him again. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work out that way.

Trudi Katz: She seduces a gardener named Ralph Contreras at the Prince of Peace Lutheran Church who will never tell of their affair. Fletcher is the surrogate father of her son, Howard. She and her infant son move to Chicago to get away from Palamo Grove; she will never return, but Howie will.

William Witt: He is a voyeur who spies on the four virgins while they are bathing in the cave. He holds this scene dear in his memory for the rest of his life. As an adult, he becomes a realtor who is secretly obsessed with pornography. He has an altercation with Jaffe and Tommy-Ray at Buddy Vance’s house where he encounters a terata. Since Quiddity has been somewhat revealed to him, his fantasies materialize, and he spends most of his time living them out, rarely leaving the house. His fate is to die at the bottom of Jaffe’s cave when he goes down there with Tesla, Grillo, and Jim.

Buddy Vance: He is a 54-year-old comedian once named “the funniest man in the world.” He has lived a self-destructive, hedonistic lifestyle and goes out for a jog one morning in an attempt to be healthier. During his jog, he is lured into Jaffe’s and Fletcher’s cave with the ghost-image of the League of Virgins. Jaffe steals a terata from his soul; he uses it to escape into the Grove and continue with his work. Buddy dies before Fletcher can retrieve anything from his soul. Jaffe sets up shop in Buddy’s house, using it in his attempt to control the Art. After his death, his house, widow, and mistress all play significant roles in the book’s plot.

Grillo: He’s a journalist who gets sucked into the world of The Art because of his investigation of Vance’s death. After that, he becomes a major player in something he only wanted to report on, but he never loses his passion for journalism.

Howard Katz: After his mother Trudi dies in Chicago, he decides to go to Palamo Grove to discover the mysteries of his birth. There, he meets Jo-Beth and immediately falls in love with her. Because their surrogate fathers are enemies, their relationship is problematic.

Jo-Beth McGuire: She has always had an abnormally close relationship with her twin-brother, Tommy-Ray, but her love for Howie changes that, causing conflict and jealousy. Although Jaffe is the surrogate father of the siblings, she comes around to Fletcher’s and Howie’s side in the battle over the Art.

Tommy-Ray McGuire: Jaffe recruits Tommy-Ray to work for him. One of his jobs is to find people with a lot of fear in their hearts and to retrieve terata from their souls. He and Jaffe lure people to a room in Buddy Vance’s house where they use the terata to force these victims to reveal the secrets of their souls. Jaffe sends him on a trip to the Misión de Santa Catrina to get the remaining Nuncio. He gets into an altercation with Tesla (Fletcher’s ally) and they both receive a portion of the Nuncio. He returns to the Grove, recruiting an army of dead spirits on the way.

That’s about as comprehensive as I’d like to make this list right now. There are minor characters not on here, and I didn’t realize how many there were until I started writing it. Hopefully this will give you an idea of how engaging and complex this book is and the effect it had on me.

Poetics by Aristotle

Aristotle is considered to be one of the most important philosophers of all time, and just about all the philosophy books that I’ve read have mentioned him, so I felt it was necessary to check out his writings in order to have a deeper understanding of those books as well as developing my own philosophy. But this was a tough read. Although he was Plato’s student, there is a huge contrast between their two styles. Plato is more entertaining, while Aristotle is more rigid, devoid of any wit or humor. What I do appreciate about Aristotle is that he leaves no stone unturned, approaching each topic from every possible angle.

“Poetics” describes the basic elements of comedy, tragedy, and epic poetry, as well as the qualities that make these art forms good or bad. It also critiques many of the poets of that time, including Homer, so I was glad that I had read “Iliad” and “Odyssey” beforehand. However, I felt that if I had been more well-read in all forms of Greek poetry, I would have gotten more out of it. I had previously read “Nicomachean Ethics” by Aristotle and found it more interesting. I would recommend that you read that instead, unless you are familiar with Greek poetry and find the subject matter of “Poetics” more appealing.

Paradise Lost by John Milton

THIS!!!>>> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GINzU…

I usually struggle with 17th century English literature because the language is so hard to understand, and the print version of Paradise Lost was no exception. If I hadn’t found this audiobook version (with Ian McDiarmid as the voice of Satan!), I probably would’ve given up ten pages in. I listen to audiobooks in the car just to save time and add to my “read” list; I always prefer printed books because I’m able to retain more, but this is the only exception where the audio was better and more understandable. It’s just perfect. There are different readers for all the different characters and narration, their voices suit the roles well because it’s exactly what you think they would sound like, and their timing is in perfect meter. Because of this book, I finally feel like I “get” epic poetry. I read Homer and Dante in college, and actually loved them, but Milton, for me, was on a whole other level. The fact that they were translated and Milton was in the original language was probably one of the reasons. Having read most of the Bible (I need to go back and read it again), I was already familiar with the plot, so that was another thing that helped me get the most out of this challenging read. I would occasionally read bits in print just to see if it had gotten any easier (it didn’t). But when I was getting really close to the end, I started reading along with the audio while it was playing. Reading the ending this way gave me chills and helped me truly appreciate the beauty of this poetry. It’s my favorite audiobook and favorite epic poem.

Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton

I saw that many of the reviews on here had spoilers, and I’m glad I didn’t read any of them; it certainly would have ruined the book for me. There are so many great things about this story. I like how it’s set up, with Ethan Frome’s personal story sandwiched in-between the narrator’s personal experience with him. Ethan comes off as a bit of a douche, who is always struggling between his emotions and his responsibilities. He’s married but has strong feelings for his maid. There was no indication to me that she felt the same way or that she knew of his attraction until the end of the book. She always just came off as being polite. And his wife was completely oblivious to what was going on. Ethan’s folly and everyone’s ignorance was part of what made the story entertaining, along with the tension of wondering what was going to happen next. About 3/4 of the way through, my plan was to give it four stars, depending on the outcome. I was thoroughly surprised and pleased by the outcome, and that’s what bumped it up to five stars. The biggest page-turners I’ve read have been contemporary genre fiction novels, so it’s refreshing to find a story this gripping that is over a century old.

The Ancestor’s Tale by Richard Dawkins

Dawkins was the author who made me realize how fascinating evolutionary biology is. I had read a few of his books before I started this one, but they were all around 300 to 400 pages. This one is 614 pages. It goes back in time, starting in the present moment until we finally reach the dawn of evolution. What an interesting way to write a book! It tells the stories of many species and the common ancestors that we share with them. As the book progresses, our cousins get more and more distant. Eve’s Tale explains how the Y chromosome was passed down from mother to daughter through all generations and can be traced back to a hypothetical “Eve.” The Peacock’s Tale explains how male peacocks evolved colorful, flashy looking feathers to attract a mate. The Dodo’s Tale is a sad story about extinction. Dodos never had to deal with predators, so they never evolved any ways of escaping from them. When humans arrived on their island, they were so slow and easy to kill that they went extinct in a short period of time. There are many more stories like these in the book. The ending of the book is well written and comes around full circle in a cool way. If you’ve never read anything by Dawkins, I would recommend The Selfish Gene or River Out of Eden. But if you have already read a few of his books, this is a good one that goes a little more in depth.

The Diary of Anne Frank

Anne Frank is the youngest author I’ve read, but this book is outstanding regardless of the author’s age. She was only thirteen at the start of the diary before she and her family were forced to hide in the Secret Annex, and her writing improved as she matured in such a harrowing situation. In addition to topics such as daily life in the annex and politics of the time (which she cared little about), she wrote about her passion for literature. She made it abundantly clear that writing was not just a hobby; she would be pleased to know that this book stood the test of time, inspiring the creativity of myself and others. Toward the end of the book, she gets deeper into the emotions and psychology of the situation.

More than anything, I was impressed by a writing skill-level above that of most adults, but her resilience was admirable as well. Although some of her entries were understandably negative, most of them were upbeat, grateful, and positive. Most people I know would have complained the whole time. I’d never read a diary, and the fact of it being documented in real-time made it unique to me from other historical books/biographies. The diary’s abrupt ending requires an afterword, and it tells of her fate in the gas chambers, making it the most tragic ending of any book I’ve read.

(My 5 star rating is sincere. Regarding other reviews chastising people who give this book a low rating, I believe that with all art, if I’m not allowed to criticize, then my praise means little.)

The Complete Fiction by H.P. Lovecraft

I finally finished this collection; I’ve been reading it for several years. By far, I’ve gotten more mileage out of this than any book I’ve ever owned. I’m now close to being a Lovecraft completist, since I’ve read this along with some of his essays. It would be quite a task to write a review of each story; I’ve written reviews of only a few of them.

Dagon p. 23

I’ve read Dagon several times, even though that doesn’t mean much, considering its length. Some stories I enjoyed more the second time around, although Dagon wasn’t really that amazing the third or fourth time around. I believe he covered a lot of the same ideas in different stories in an attempt to improve and write the perfect story. Some are better than others.

Dagon was one of his earliest writings, and it’s a good introduction to the philosophy behind the Cthulhu mythos. Since I’ve become so familiar with his work, I have a deeper understanding and appreciation of it. Dagon is more important as a supplement than as a stand-alone. I wouldn’t have enjoyed the other Cthulhu stories as much without it. It gives you a taste of what’s to come, like deep time and space, the dream world, fish gods, and unimaginable horror.

The Statement of Randolph Carter p. 76

I’ve read this super-short story a few times now and enjoyed it quite well. It contains the great horror/sci-fi elements that you can expect from Lovecraft. In this story, the protagonist, Randolph Carter, was Harley Warren’s assistant. He’s writing a letter telling the authorities why he can’t really explain what happened to him; it must’ve been the boogeyman that got him!

Carter’s experience reminded me of some work experiences I’ve had (except cooler and creepier). Since he’s the assistant, he doesn’t know anything about the work; he’s more like Warren’s go-for. When they get to the spot where they’re going to explore, Warren won’t let Carter go down in the hole with him. This upsets Carter, because he wants to feel useful, like he’s doing something besides just being a spectator. Then Warren goes down in the hole and Carter must wait for a long time without hearing a response or knowing what’s going on. He keeps calling for him and can’t decide if he should go down and look for him or just wait like he was told, so there’s a lot of tension. Finally, he realizes Warren is dead.

Facts Concerning the Late Arthur Jermyn and His Family p. 102

This is about a guy’s quest to discover the mystery of his ancestry. The story describes his grandfathers going back several generations. A lot of them were deformed and messed-up mentally so there was supposed to be some kind of mystery to what caused these abnormalities. I found the descriptions of these ancestors uninteresting. Lovecraft’s writing can sometimes be “dry” (for lack of a better term), but most of the time I find the dryness charming. This was a case where it didn’t work at all. Also, I had trouble distinguishing where each grandfather fell in the line-of-ancestry. That was especially annoying.

The idea of a man mating with an ape is just a bad idea for a work of fiction. I prefer actual science when it comes to this topic. Anybody who understands speciation knows that these types of things occur in nature. Homo sapiens bred with Neanderthals before we finally broke off. This story reeks of social-Darwinism. Anybody who believes in that garbage can go straight to Hell. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. I give it one star.

Celephaïs p. 110

The dream-world is something I’m fascinated by and want to learn and read more about. It’s a common theme in Lovecraft’s writing, with my introduction being Beyond the Wall of Sleep. It’s one of my favorite short stories ever, and Celephaïs is also amazing. Beyond the Wall of Sleep entertains the idea that the dream-world is our primary world, with the waking world being secondary. This principle can also apply to this story, especially since the protagonist tries to spend most of his time asleep in order to achieve his mission in the dream-world. He is trying to find the city of Celephais, which he visited in his youth but cannot find back. I too have had the sensation of permanent fixtures in my dreams. There is a house in my dream-world that has always been there; I visit it from time to time, and its location and structure remain constant. I’m also in the middle of The Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud. It’s more psychological and scientific than Lovecraft’s fiction. Because of my obsession with this topic, I must have the best of both worlds. I’ll grab anything I can get my hands on. These books make me think about and remember my own dream-world a lot more during my waking hours, and how bizarre it really is.

Nyarlathotep p. 121

After having read and become familiar with the Cthulhu mythos, this story just seemed like a super-condensed version of that, without adding anything. Perhaps this might serve as an introduction to Cthulhu for somebody who is unfamiliar, but I doubt it. I had to immerse myself in Lovecraft’s world to understand it. I’ve been reading him consistently for years now and appreciate it more than I did before.

Ironically, this story reminded me of Zen and the cyclical nature of reality. The universe moves in cycles with seasons, birth/death, etc. Knowledge of this can bring a peaceful contentment, but with Lovecraft, it’s horrific. Nyarlathotep returns after 2700 years, bringing humanity back to the darkness that existed before. “We sware to one another that the city was exactly the same, and still alive; and when the electric lights began to fade we cursed the company over and over again, and laughed at the queer faces we made.” It sounds here like they’re going crazy, but it’s a primal crazy, unknowingly returning to their roots.

Through the Gates of the Silver Key p. 889

This story has been given some bad reviews and even Lovecraft himself was not entirely happy with it, but I don’t see why. I thought it was great. It’s a sequel to The Silver Key, which I don’t really remember, but it doesn’t matter. It still has a good flow to it. Randolph Carter is the main character in the story. Carter was also in The Statement of Randolph Carter, which, as I indicated in my review, was good, but not as good as this! He is Lovecraft’s alter ego, so it was cool to envision Lovecraft himself floating around in all the different dimensions that the story depicts.

Carter has a silver key that allows him to pass through gates that go to different time periods and also outside of Earth’s realm. As a grown man, he goes through one of the gates and travels back several decades to when he was a boy. Then he passes through another gate that leads to outer dimensions, and things get pretty bizarre from there. The author’s vivid descriptions of these worlds can really stimulate the imagination. I see how he could have influenced contemporary fantasy authors. Finally, he’s struggling to get back to Earth and to the time-period where he left off. One of Lovecraft’s greatest skills is that he can write an epic ending, and this one does not disappoint. I won’t spoil it for you here though.

The Thing on the Doorstep p. 919

What I really liked about this story were the friendships and relationships in it; two friends growing up together and one going off and getting married. Then there’s the confusion of the souls switching bodies. Relationships were not a big part of Lovecraft’s writing, probably because he was such a recluse. And this story was one of the few to have a strong female character. I think he rarely talked to women in real life. Now that I think about it, Stephen King may have gotten his idea for Christine from this story. In Christine, the protagonist’s body is invaded by the soul of his car’s previous owner.

The Shadow out of Time p. 948

This is Lovecraft’s last major work, and I can see how several of his ideas, especially about deep-time, came together to help him hone his craft and create something great. I’m not sure, but I believe this was the second time I read this story. The first time around, I really didn’t like or get it at all; I probably would have given it one star. But this time, because I understood his ideas, I thought it was amazing. (I am quite familiar with the elder Gods at this point.) Part of the tale takes place in Australia, where the protagonist and his comrades travel to do their research and make their discoveries of the ancient ones. I thought this was interesting because I am unaware of any horror story settings on that continent.

This is another one where he knocks it out of the ballpark with his one-liner ending. Other authors can bring a story around and surprise you with an ending, but nobody can do it as abruptly as Lovecraft. I anticipated it leading up to something great as I neared the end.

“They were, instead, the letters of our familiar alphabet, spelling out the words of the English language in my own handwriting.”

The Haunter of the Dark p. 999

The coolest thing about this story is that it’s about a real church in Providence, RI that was torn down in 1992. The idea was that it was a haunted church. I love the idea of the protagonist looking out from his apartment over the city’s skyline and wondering what was up with that building, then feeling the need to go check it out. I have that same kind of curiosity and fascination. Lovecraft’s tales were set in many different locations all around the globe, but his home was Providence, and it held a special place in his heart. I believe it’s an important city for the horror genre and I want to visit it one day.

In the story, the evil creature that haunts the church can’t function except in complete darkness (hence the story’s title), so it kind of reminded me of the vampire novels I’ve been reading recently. I’m unaware of Lovecraft ever writing about vampires, so I guess this is as close as it gets. It follows his common theme of deep time and elder gods, with a little bit of a twist that most of his stories have.

Conclusion:

Sadly, because I didn’t cover some of his best stories, I feel this review doesn’t do Lovecraft justice. My favorite stories of his that I didn’t review are Beyond the Wall of Sleep, The White Ship, The Picture in the House, The Outsider (another great ending), and At the Mountains of Madness.

The Hemingses of Monticello by Annette Gordon-Reed

Annette Gordon-Reed says, and I agree, that this is a story of white-supremacy and male dominance. Thomas Jefferson was 46 and Sally Hemings was 16 when they consummated their “relationship.” Although Jefferson treated the Hemingses favorably over other slaves and they may have acted affectionately towards him, as Reed points out, they had obvious reasons for strategically acting a certain way; surely they would have given anything to leave this deplorable situation. The end of many biographies are sad because of the death of the protagonist. But here, the fate of the slaves was unfortunate rather than the death of Jefferson himself. In his will, he freed Sally Hemings and his own children, but didn’t free other slaves because they were property for his white family’s inheritance. In the end, he put his white family’s financial situation ahead of his black extended family’s freedom. Some of them ended up on the auction block and separated from their loved ones.

When I finally finished this 30 hour long audiobook, I was glad to be done. A lot of it dragged on, the writing was sometimes dry, and I often drifted off, so there was a lot I didn’t retain. I’d recommend one of Reed’s shorter books on this topic, but this one is comprehensive if that’s what you’re looking for. I did appreciate how she used the facts to speculate on what life must have been like at Monticello and believe her conclusions are probably accurate. It can be very informative if you want to power through.

The Portable Nietzsche by Friedrich Nietzsche

The Portable Nietzsche is a comprehensive collection containing excerpts as well as some of Friedrich Nietzsche’s full works, translated by Walter Kaufmann. I’ve been reading this for a while, occasionally taking breaks to read other things. Jumping back into the book after a long break isn’t really a problem because you don’t always have to rely as much on what you previously read. Despite being commonly misunderstood, Nietzsche is one of the most quotable philosophers, full of great one-liners. The chronology sort of narrates you through his life with his writing. The first 102 pages contain excerpts of his earliest works; Thus Spoke Zarathustra is the first book contained in full, starting on page 103.

Thus Spoke Zarathustra

I was familiar with Nietzsche’s writings before reading this, but I was quite surprised to find out how different this was from his other works. It was refreshing to find out that this, unlike many of his books, was written as a novel. It’s well written and an easy read, especially considering that many translated books can be difficult. Kaufmann did a great job on the translation. The book is inspirational and motivational.

This book contains Nietzsche’s most famous catchphrase, “God is dead,” but it is much more than just a critique of religion. Zarathustra believes that our morals can no longer come from religion, and that people must come up with their own morals to achieve greatness. He also encourages his followers not to accept traditional standards of what the truth is, and to come up with their own truths. He’s basically telling you to “be yourself,” but in an extreme way that has probably never been matched before or since. Nietzsche was truly one of a kind.

There are many chapters that criticize different personalities, and how their flaws in thinking and character prevent humanity from achieving the greatness that will create the “superman.” The superman is what men will become once they finally live up to Zarathustra’s vision. The greatest men of Zarathustra’s time can only be a bridge to the superman of the future. These critiques are full of Nietzsche’s sneering sarcasm that I love so well. It’s easy to imagine the superman as being much larger than life. Greater good and evil, greater pleasure and pain, devoid of mediocrity. Not quite like the comic book character, who has more traditional virtues.

Finally, Zarathustra invites many of these pathetic characters to a “Last Supper” in his cave, so that they can be his disciples. However, as much as he tries to influence them, they revert to their old ways. He realizes that he failed because he treated them with too much pity. Nietzsche is often interpreted as being too brutal, but I believe that much of his philosophy is tough love.

Pages 440 through 463 contain more excerpts. One of my favorites is from page 454 where he criticizes Descartes. “‘There is thinking; consequently there is that which thinks’-that is what Descartes’ argument comes to. Yet this means positing our faith in the concept of substance as ‘a priori true.’ When there is thinking, something must be there that thinks-that is merely a formulation of our grammatical habit, which posits a doer for what is done. . . .”

Next are Twilight of the Idols, The Antichrist, and Nietzsche Contra Wagner in full.

Twilight of the Idols

All the books I’ve read by Nietzsche so far have been similar in content but presented in a different format. Beyond Good and Evil presents his ideas in a general way, Thus Spoke Zarathustra is in the form of a novel, and Twilight of the Idols uses a hammer to destroy the ideas of the philosophers he hates. I think the philosophers that preceded Nietzsche built on earlier ideas, kind of like standing on the shoulders of giants. What Nietzsche does is turn philosophy on its head. He does a lot of name-dropping, but not in a flattering way. Becoming familiar with Socrates before reading this will make it more entertaining and understandable. He doesn’t like Socrates; I can’t dispute what he says about him and he makes good points, but still I’m a fan of ole’ Socrates. And there’s nobody he hates more than Kant. He attempts to destroy Kant’s idea of the “thing in itself,” but I can still see both sides. Nietzsche’s greatness is that he makes you question all your previous beliefs. In that he is a true genius. The only gripe I have is that he comes off as a right-winger in his criticism of socialism and Christianity. Still, his passionate writing fills you up with motivation and makes you feel like you can take on the world.

The Antichrist

This is Nietzsche’s epic take-down of Christianity. It’s obvious he had a chip on his shoulder. Throughout the text, he points out everything he sees wrong with the religion, how it caused problems, and how it compares to other religions. Clearly, he thinks less of Christianity than other religions.

From the Preface – “Some are born posthumously.”

The preface lets his readers know that this is not for everybody and that his real audience may not even be born yet, but he encourages them to be open-minded. Most people just believe whatever they want to believe; their version of the truth is what they find to be the most convenient. It takes courage to open up and see the real truth.

“So the last shall be first, and the first last.” – Matthew 20:16

First, he takes on Christianity’s encouragement of weakness. The pagan gods of the Greeks aided men in achieving greatness, not in an afterlife, but in this life. According to Nietzsche, Christianity focused on the worst characteristics like poverty, cowardice, shame, et cetera. It encouraged this lowliness by promising a reward in the afterlife. By switching-up values, it took truth and flipped it on its head. One would expect progress throughout the ages, but this caused regression.

Then he takes on Kant’s views of morality. Kant was an important and influential philosopher with a Christian world-view, and his influence made him a frequent target of Nietzsche. I’ve been reading Kant, so I totally get where Nietzsche is coming from. Kant coined the term “categorical imperative” which is “an unconditional moral obligation that is binding in all circumstances and is not dependent on a person’s inclination or purpose.” Never lying is an example of a categorical imperative, but it doesn’t take much of an imagination to think of a situation where lying would be the right thing to do.

Next, he compares Christianity with Buddhism. Although he had a distaste for all religions (I would call him an atheist.), he viewed Buddhism more favorably than Christianity. Buddhism deals with reduced suffering, while Christianity deals with reducing sin. This topic got me thinking about the contrast between Buddhism and Paganism as well. Pagans were concerned with accomplishments, while Buddhists were less ambitious and concerned with inner peace. Neither were as concerned with the afterlife as Christians were. Nietzsche had an affinity for the ancient Greeks, so I’m sure he preferred Paganism.

Returning to the topic of truth, he ridicules the idea of Christian martyrdom, the ultimate being Jesus on the cross. Why all this masochism, and why does any kind of sacrifice make your beliefs any more truthful? You can see this in recent history; if you make a martyr out of somebody, then more people will believe in what they stood for. But commitment to an idea actually makes it less likely to be true. People should be willing to challenge their ideas, rather than having a strong “faith.”

Some of the other topics he covers is how the Christians hijacked Judaism (He was strongly against antisemitism, contrary to what some people believed.) and how Martin Luther should have destroyed Christianity rather than reforming it. Nietzsche hated Christianity with every fiber of his being, and this book makes it clear. It was a good history lesson and gave me lots of new ideas.

Nietzsche Contra Wagner

“Music makes its appearance as the last plant among all the arts which grow on the soil of a particular culture-perhaps because it is the most inward and hence arrives last, in the fall when the culture which belongs to it is fading.”

What a profound quote about music! I honestly thought Nietzsche Contra Wagner was going to be a bore. I’d been listening to Wagner, getting ready to read this (I’ve strangely developed a taste for operatic singing), and I couldn’t imagine how his take on Wagner was going to be interesting. But he writes about the importance and effects of music, and how emotions can contribute to the mindset it takes to create great art. It’s the most interesting take I’ve heard on music to date. Nietzsche and Wagner had been friends but had become estranged. Wagner had become a Christian and an anti-Semite, two things Nietzsche despised. He was heartbroken at this loss and you can tell he was suffering more and more, nearing the end of his life. This is the last full book in the collection, followed by a few excerpts that indicated he was losing his mind.

I thought this collection was amazing, but if you haven’t read Nietzsche before, I suggest you start with On Truth and Untruth: Selected Writings. It’s a great introduction to his philosophy that can help you decide if you want to move on to something more comprehensive like this. I give The Portable Nietzsche 4 1/2 stars, rounded down. The only thing keeping it from getting 5 stars is that I thought Taylor Carman and H.L. Mencken sometimes do better translations than Kaufmann.

Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut

This was my first time reading Kurt Vonnegut, and I must say, I’ve never read anything quite like this before. The protagonist is an American spy who worked as a propagandist for Nazi Germany. Despite his alliance with the United States, he is guilty of Nazi war crimes. After the war, he comes back to the United States and hides his identity to avoid prosecution. The problem is that nobody knows which side he was really on. What an original idea for a book! It’s well written, an easy read, and a page-turner, with some unexpected plot twists. It had an epic ending that made me put the book down and say “whew!”

In the introduction, Vonnegut claimed that the moral of the story was “We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.” That made me think about how people should always be true to themselves, and this book is an extreme example of what happens when you can’t. It must be miserable for someone to have to hide who they are, even if it’s not in the same situation as this book.

Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin

Go Tell It on the Mountain is a semi-autobiographical novel that gives a commentary on James Baldwin’s religious upbringing. This book really pulls you into the inner lives of all the main characters. The protagonist, John, who portrays Baldwin, is a 14-year-old boy who struggles with his Christian faith and the role it plays with his family in Harlem, New York. His abusive stepfather, Gabriel, is a pastor with many skeletons in his closet. First, the story tells of John’s rocky relationship with his family and his church. It made me feel sorry for John and despise Gabriel. Then it goes into Gabriel’s back-story, which is full of pain and grief. He had a wife, a mistress, and a bastard son when he lived in the South where he grew up. They all ended up dying, which caused him sorrow along with the guilt he felt for the sin of adultery. It finally returns to John’s story, and the book reaches a great climax when Gabriel’s sister calls him out for the hypocrisy of his past and current misdeeds. At the height of the trauma and fear of his father, John finds salvation and dedicates his life to Christ, pleasing his family and church-members. There’s a touching moment at the very end when he asks his church-brother, Elisha, to pray for him. It’s a very emotional book.

Louisa, Please Come Home by Shirley Jackson

Another great story by Ms. Jackson. I don’t think I’ll ever quit liking these stories about escaping from your current reality, because I’ve often had a desire to do just that. And not having to answer to anyone about what you are doing. There is at least an appearance of freedom in that, although it can be misleading. This story reminded me of The Unparalleled Adventures of One Hans Pfaal by Edgar Allan Poe and The Thief of Always by Clive Barker because they both also deal with the idea of escape. The Thief of Always even has a similar ending where the child returns home to their parents but everything is different because of the passage of time.

Louisa, Please Come Home is not as scary as some of Jackson’s other works, but it’s still just as good. The only part that gave me chills was when Louisa returned home, and her parents didn’t recognize her. They didn’t believe she was who she said she was, and they turned her away. She had to begrudgingly return to the life she once yearned to escape to. I suppose the moral of the story is that the grass is not always greener on the other side.

Ghost Story by Peter Straub

There were too many characters to keep up with. As the plot developed in the book, he would mention characters that he had developed, and I couldn’t remember anything about them or I would get them mixed up with other characters. It was quite frustrating. I don’t recall ever reading a book with these many characters and nobody with a leading role who stands out from the rest. The only way this could have worked for me was if they had been vastly different with glaring personalities and life-situations. That was not the case here. The members of the Chowder Society were all older men with similar situations. Peter was a young guy, and he stood out to me more than most of the characters, but I had trouble retaining everything in his story too. The title Ghost Story is appropriate for this book because it does have quite a few really good stories that would hold up on their own; they just didn’t fit together in a way that was appealing to me. There were times when a scene was starting to get really interesting and then he would switch to another scene. (I know this happens all the time in books and it usually works, but in this case, it didn’t.)

There were good parts to the book though. The individual stories about the encounters the Chowder Society members had with the different women that the shapeshifter occupied were quite interesting and engaging. (I especially like the story where one guy meets this strange woman in college; then she disappears. Unfortunately, now I can’t find it in the book or in a Google search.) A lot of them would have made great short stories on their own. And the first part of the book where he kidnaps that girl is interesting. I was wondering about that scene and if he was ever going to get back to it. He finally does at the very end of the book.

Orange World and Other Stories by Karen Russell

This is a collection of eight short stories. I read the first one “The Prospectors” in BAM!, and thought it was really bizarre but not that entertaining. Since it was only one out of eight, I thought I’d give the rest of them a shot. I didn’t want to pay the steep price for a brand-new book, so I went to the library and checked it out. One thing all the stories have in common are really bizarre concepts, and usually I like that, but these stories didn’t really work for me. I like what she’s trying to do here, but she doesn’t seem to accomplish it. Obviously, other people get it, but I don’t. If somebody had done a super-short cliffnotes version of all these stories, I’d be craving the real thing. The concepts are exactly the kind of metaphysical stuff I love, like Clive Barker. “Bog Girl” is about a teenage boy falling in love with a thousands year old mummy and having a relationship with her. Great idea! “The Tornado Auction” is about a guy manufacturing tornadoes and it gets out of control. Great idea! “Black Corfu” is about a medieval doctor who operates on the dead to keep them from becoming zombies. Another great idea! Ideas are necessary for stories, but these just don’t pan out. The short story “Orange World” is probably the best one. I suggest you read that one and skip the rest. If you want great short story collections, I suggest horror stuff like Night Shift and Skeleton Crew by Stephen King, also 21st Century Ghosts by Joe Hill. Shirley Jackson has some great short stories too.

And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

I listened to the audiobook read by the author. I almost always enjoy books read by the author, and this was no exception. It was special how she put so much of her personality into the tonality and rhythm of her reading. My two favorite poems from the book were “Still I Rise” and “Life Doesn’t Frighten Me.” They both represent the courage and strength she must have had to have in order to prosper in her difficult life.

“Still I Rise” is about her “rising up” in the face of her oppressors. No matter how hard they try to keep her down, she always rises, and they don’t like this at all. Her laughter at the oppressors’ anger in this reading is genuine. They just can’t stand to see someone so defiant. “Life Doesn’t Frighten Me” is dedicated to children who refuse admit they are frightened, but I think it could help people of any age to have courage in the face of fear. All the poems in this volume express hope in difficult times. The slaves kept trudging on so she could have a better life, and she does the same for future generations.

Macbeth by William Shakespeare

I had to read the No Fear version in modern English because I couldn’t comprehend Shakespeare’s early modern English. No Fear Shakespeare puts both texts side-by-side, so it was fun to glance over at the original text when I felt curious. I thought SparkNotes did a great “translation” that was easy to understand. I also read Charles and Mary Lamb’s version, kind of as a primer. It might be interesting to go back and read the original now that I know the story-line. It also might help me understand the early modern English of Shakespeare’s time.

The story of Macbeth’s tragic life is an entertaining and emotional read. The witches told him he would never be defeated by anyone born of a woman. To me, deception with the intent to deceive is the same as lying. Say what you mean and mean what you say! It was interesting to watch Macbeth’s attitude change throughout the story. He was reluctant to commit his evil acts until Lady Macbeth convinced him, and after his deeds he felt remorse. But towards the end he lost his reservations and became more ruthless. His downfall was spectacular and violent.

srsly Hamlet by Courtney Carbone

ROFLMFAO

I was in the middle of reading Hamlet, and I saw this book on sale for $2.97 at BAM!, so I had to get it. It’s a great novelty item, and I even used it as a fun way of revisiting the story to see what I missed after reading the (No Fear) Hamlet. There are some funny moments, and this part was hilarious:

[image]

But the novelty soon wore off and the joke didn’t stay funny as the story progressed. The back cover of the book says “Hamlet just got a lot more interesting.” This is probably a joke too, but in case you take it srsly, the other Hamlet is pretty darn interesting. Another small gripe I have is the excessive use of emojis. It wouldn’t be what it is without those, but most texters I know don’t use them THAT much, amirite? I give it 2.5 stars, which is good. (A 2 star rating on my scale is good.) Idk, it seems sacrilegious to give this a super-high rating compared to all the classical literature out there lol

Update 12/22/19: I’m actually just now finishing this and I’m gonna go ahead and bump it up to 3 stars. It was a kool refresher since I had finished reading the No Fear version a few months earlier. Ophelia’s exclusive use of emojis after she went crazy was really neat-o. Now that I’m familiar with the No Fear and srsly versions of Hamlet, I’ll probably give Shakespeare’s original version a shot in 2020.

Full Throttle by Joe Hill

Joe Hill is a rare author whose books I always anticipate being released. I’ve read and loved most of them, and 20th Century Ghosts was one of my favorites (“Best New Horror” is the scariest short story I’ve ever read. No contest.), so I was pleased to see that he had a new short-story collection. I bought it and started reading the day it came out. I didn’t expect it to be as good as good as 20th Century Ghosts, although there was a little hope for that. Even though it wasn’t quite as great as that masterpiece, I still thoroughly enjoyed it. Some of the stories were just okay, while others were amazing. “Throttle” was co-written with Stephen King. It’s the best thing I’ve read by King in years. “Late Returns” was great, being a unique take on the common topic of time travel. “All I Care About Is You” was another great one about robots in the future. It’s funny to think you can get attached to a character that isn’t even having a conscious experience. “In The Tall Grass” was one, co-written with King, that’s been hyped up for its Netflix movie. Because of that, I was expecting it to be better than it was. There was too much of them running around, lost in the grass, and it got repetitive. That being said, the great stories more than counterbalanced the okay ones. And even though none of them scared me like some of his other stuff has, the book was good enough that I finished it in only a few days. It’s a great one for spooky season!

The Mueller Report by Robert Mueller

This is a well-written, comprehensive report, so I appreciate the work of Robert Mueller, but when I give a star-rating, I’m rating my own experience with the book. Because of its vast length, I listened to almost all of it on audiobook, in my car, on fairly long trips. Unfortunately, I drifted off during a great deal of it and didn’t retain everything. One wouldn’t expect a legal document to be exciting, and it was a dry read for sure, so I’m forced to subtract one star for said dryness. I did obtain a hard copy of the report, reading only a small portion of it, but it was more rewarding than the audio, so I recommend the printed format it you have time. Another star had to be subtracted for the redactions, which removed probably the best parts. It’s unfortunate that entire pages would often be redacted. On a positive note, this has helped build my interest in legal matters. It rekindled some of my knowledge from law classes in college and helped my understanding of the constitution, especially Articles One and Two. I was glad to already be familiar with much of the content from watching mainstream news stations over the last two years, but since the news cycle moves so quickly from one event to the next, I’d almost forgotten about major players like James Comey and Sean Spicer. The Mueller Report was like of a refresher course on Trump’s horrible presidency.

The Way of Zen by Alan Watts

Tao Te Ching was my introduction to Eastern philosophy, and I didn’t really get it the first time I read it. I think it can be difficult for Westerners to truly understand Eastern ideas because our culture and world-view are so different. Western writers like Arthur Schopenhauer and Herman Hesse have improved my understanding, but The Way of Zen is the first book I’ve read that had the specific goal of teaching the reader about Zen from a Western perspective. I had plenty of “a-ha” moments while reading this where I suddenly realized what some of these ancient texts meant. The point is to do things effortlessly, which can be a difficult task. Zen is full of paradoxes like that, and they never end. If you try really hard not to try, then you have missed the point; it’s a vicious circle. Whatever act you are doing, you have to become one with that act, and when meditating, become one with the art of sitting. Once you get it, you’ll know; you can’t over-intellectualize it. There’s plenty of information in this book about the history of Zen and comparisons between Eastern and Western thought. Western philosophy tends to focus more on the subject/object relationship while Eastern philosophy sees them both as one. Although this book was good, I prefer Alan Watt’s lectures. There are plenty of them you can check out on YouTube.

Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Slaughterhouse-Five is widely acclaimed as one of the best science-fiction novels of all time, and it was a great introduction to the genre for me. I was familiar with a lot of Kurt Vonnegut’s ideas before reading this, like four dimensions of space and all moments in time existing simultaneously. I read A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking a few weeks earlier, and it covers those topics in a different way.

Since the Tralfamadorians who captured Billy Pilgrim experience all points in time simultaneously, he’s always jumping around to different time periods on Earth. While reading the book, I sometimes found myself forgetting what time he was currently in, but it didn’t seem to matter because Billy himself couldn’t remember. He alternates from the 1940’s where he’s an American soldier in Nazi Germany, to the ’60’s and other decades, to the planet of Tralfamadore millions of light-years away from Earth. Because Billy knows the ways of the Tralfamadorians, he understands the true nature of time and reality, but most Earthlings don’t believe him or understand where he’s coming from. For me, this book is an interesting take on what it means to have an enlightened or “Zen” worldview.

It is my belief that unlike philosophy or science, there is no right or wrong way to interpret literary fiction. I interpreted Tralfamadore as being real rather than a hallucination. I however can see how it could work either way.

Mystification by Edgar Allan Poe

I suppose this first-person narrative is called ‘Mystification’ because one of the main characters, the Baron Ritzner Von Jung, acted so mysteriously that it piqued everybody’s curiosity as to what he was really like. Everyone at the narrator’s university becomes excited when they find out that he will be visiting. After he has been staying there for a while, Von Jung gets into a heated argument at a party with a man named Johan Hermann about the ‘duello,’ which is the study of the rules and art of dueling. After the party, they continue the debate with a series of letters, using the narrator as a medium. It turns out that Hermann didn’t know much about the topic at all and was really just kind of being a blow-hard, so it proves what lengths some people will go to to show that they are smarter than others.

If this doesn’t sound interesting to you, it’s because it isn’t. This is one of the few books on here that has an average rating of less than three stars, so it’s good to know that I wasn’t the only one who disliked it. It didn’t have the darkness and creepiness that I expect from an Edgar Allan Poe horror story. The only redeeming quality is that it had the same eloquent prose that I have come to admire in all of Poe’s tales. He’s a great author, and I’ve given him some good reviews, but it’s definitely hit-or-miss.

The New Jim Crow by Michell Alexander

This was my first time reading legal nonfiction and it gave me a new perspective about how African-Americans are treated by our criminal justice system. It was also informative in that it gave a historical perspective, referencing slavery, the Jim Crow era, the start of the war on drugs, and present times. I was glad that I had read “Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglas” and “The Autobiography of Malcolm X” beforehand because the subject material in both books is relevant to this. African-Americans face many of the same problems that those two men faced, although it may not seem apparent to some.

The author claims that mass incarceration is a new caste system that replaces Jim Crow, just like Jim Crow replaced slavery. She says that the war on drugs is what made this possible. The prison population is much more than it was before the drug-war, full of non-violent offenders. Many more blacks are convicted of drug-crimes than whites, despite statistics that show whites using drugs at a higher rate than blacks. When prisoners are thrown back into society, there are stigmas attached to them that are even worse than the stigmas that were placed on minorities by Jim Crow.

This book was written eight years ago in 2010, so it’s not up-to-date with current events. Barack Obama had just been elected, and many may have believed that we were living in a post-racial society. This book made the argument that there was still much more work to be done. Since then, events have happened that have hopefully made people more aware of racism. However, I doubt that they are entirely aware of the implicit racism of the criminal justice system. I know I wasn’t.

Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin

I think James Baldwin is one the most underrated authors of the 20th century, and what a gripping novel this is! The subject matter must have been taboo back in the 1950s when it was written and I was surprised to find something like this from that era. I imagine it must have been way ahead of its time. It’s about a man named David who moves from New York City to Paris, France and discovers the gay bars in that city. He has a girlfriend named Hella who is staying in Spain while he is in France, and he must keep her from finding out about his homosexual relationship with Giovanni, whom he meets at one of the bars and lives with for a time. It’s suspenseful when Hella returns from Spain to meet David and Giovanni shows up. There is anticipation of David’s infidelity being exposed, but he is safe this time. Baldwin describes David’s struggle with realizing he is more attracted to men than the woman he is in a relationship with. He finally can’t stand staying with Hella anymore and leaves to go meet men at the bars. One night, Hella comes into one of the bars and catches him with a man. She is livid and decides to leave him, returning to the United States. This book gives a perspective about what it must have been like to be gay back in a time when society was very homophobic. Baldwin himself was gay; kudos to him for having the courage to write this.

Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice

“Do not act as if thou wert going to live ten thousand years. Death hangs over thee.” -Marcus Aurelius

If you don’t count NOS4A2 by Joe Hill, this is my first vampire novel. The concept of vampires is unique to me because of the psychology of immortality. I imagine some people might think of it as a good thing, but be careful what you wish for. It may be exciting at first with so much power and heightened sensibilities, but forever is a long, long time. People get old and set in their ways, resistant to change, so imagine adapting over centuries!

The fact of the vampires’ isolation and evil nature could be traumatic. When Louis, the protagonist, was young and still clinging to his mortal ways, he despised the predatory behavior of his elder, Lestat. But he eventually had to accept this evil as inevitable in all vampires. Most vampires don’t live to be many centuries old, because despite their never-aging bodies, their souls grow tired. I appreciate authors like Anne Rice describing the sorrow and other emotions of her characters so well. They can feel love and hate, but as centuries pass, they grow numb, wishing they had the gift of mortality.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Jtpf…

The Myth of Sisyphus and other Essays by Albert Camus

After reading The Stranger, I became so interested in absurdist philosophy that I immediately drove several miles to Barnes & Noble to buy The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays. The opening line to “The Myth of Sisyphus” piqued my curiosity, but as I got deeper into the text, it wasn’t as amazing as I expected. Don’t get me wrong, it had its moments, especially its description of the character of Sisyphus, but I had to trudge through some of it. He references several authors, but the only one I was familiar with was Nietzsche. It did make me appreciate Nietzsche’s influence even more than I already did.

The other essays were great. My favorite was “Summer in Algiers” and it deserves five stars. It made me want to visit Algiers in the 1930’s. Sadly, I’ll never get to do that. I have a fascination with major cities and have visited many of the ones in the United States. The only European city I’ve visited is London and the essays at the end of this book gave me a desire to visit cities in Europe and North Africa because of the history and old architecture.

Hamlet by William Shakespeare

This is Shakespeare’s most famous play with two of the most popular catchphrases ever:

“To be, or not to be,” and

“The lady doth protest to much, methinks.”

But there are a couple of less popular lines in Act 5, Scene 2 that mean more to me and really sum up Hamlet’s mentality:

“Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting

That would not let me sleep. Methought I lay

Worse than the mutines in the bilboes.”

And here’s the No Fear version:

“There was a kind of war in my brain that wouldn’t let me sleep. It was worse than being a captive in chains.”

There are different interpretations to this play, but I think we can all agree that Hamlet wasn’t quite right in the head. Most people probably view Claudius as the villain, but I think Hamlet was a victim of his own thoughts. Perhaps he could have benefited from Stoic philosophy. The ghost was the one who told him of Claudius’s misdeeds; I don’t know about you, but to me it seems foolish to put 100% confidence in what a ghost says. This “ghost” may have been a figment of his imagination. Regardless of whether the ghost was real or not, Claudius confessed to his crimes, so maybe Hamlet should’ve just killed him while he was praying instead of worrying about religion. It seems like a lose/lose situation, but if he had acted then, they might’ve ended up with a few less dead bodies.

This is my second Shakespeare play and I read them both in No Fear modern English. I’m loving them so far! Some of the translations are hilarious, and there are even graphic novel versions of these plays. I can’t wait to check out more No Fear versions of Shakespeare, Chaucer, Milton, and Beowulf.

The Art of War for Managers by Gerald A. Michaelson

I just can’t stand this kind of stuff. Like many others, I was forced to read these kinds of business strategy books as an undergrad business major. Being the enthusiastic reader that I am, I expected to get some entertainment or enlightenment out of them, but was sadly disappointed. When I was working a contract job as a network systems integrator, our contracts had run out and we didn’t have much to do, so our boss gave me and my coworker this book to study, thinking it would help us. We would read a few chapters and then have a book discussion with him. He wasn’t a pleasant man, so it was no fun for either of us. We spent a lot of time at my boss’s home, and I got a chance to see his tiny bookshelf (I have any affinity for bookshelves); all I recall seeing on there was a few different versions of this book and maybe the original Art of War. I don’t think he ever actually read this book. We were laid off from our job before we had a chance to finish our book study, so this book remained unfinished for over a year. I finally finished it just so I could give it this rating. Here are some of the things I found off-putting: I didn’t care for the concubine story at the beginning, although my boss absolutely loved it. It seemed like there wasn’t much difference between the chapters and they were just kind of paraphrasing the same things over and over. And I’m not crazy about the idea of comparing business management with war. Apples and oranges. However, I am a student of philosophy, so the original Art of War may need to be put on my TBR. I’m almost certain it’s better.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X as told to Alex Haley

I have always been interested in Malcolm X’s role in the civil rights movement, and after watching some of his speeches and interviews on YouTube, I decided to delve a little deeper into the subject of his life. And I’m glad I did, because this is the best biography that I have read to date. I have nothing but respect for this man. Some people have been critical of him, which is even more reason to read the book, because he is often misrepresented. He evolved so much during his lifetime, especially after he quit using drugs and converted to Islam. After he left prison and became a social activist, his views continued to change. His constant evolution and life changes are what made the book so interesting to read. Many closed-minded people have dogmatic views that prevent them from ever changing or evolving. I feel like this is the reason for many of the problems in the world, and I’m glad Malcolm X was not that way. Both X and Martin Luther King seemed to be aware that they were going to be assassinated. He mentions in the book several times that he has always believed he would die a violent death. The book seems somewhat prophetic in that way. It was great on audio book so I’d love to read it in paperback.

The Source of Self-Regard by Toni Morrison

R.I.P. Toni Morrison. This is my favorite book to come out so far in 2019. Certainly a nuanced and challenging take on social-justice, much deeper than other books I’ve read on the subject. Race and gender issues are a common theme throughout the book, although the coverage of these themes takes on many forms. Whether she’s writing about her own experience, giving tributes to mentors and influences, or critiquing books by herself and others, it’s always engaging and enlightening. I especially appreciated her literary criticism. First of all, it reinforced my belief that great authors like Morrison are well-read and have a deeper understanding of literature than most. Secondly, it fueled my desire to become better-read myself, because of my unfamiliarity with the classics she covered, from Moby Dick to Huckleberry Finn. When she wrote about her own books, I again felt less-than-prepared, because Sula was the only book by her I’d read besides this newest one. She wrote mostly about Beloved, her most popular one, and it’s on my tbr even though it’ll probably be a while before I get around to it. Thankfully, unfamiliarity with literature didn’t detract hardly any from the overall reading experience. You can use your imagination, and she helps open your mind to think about the mindset of authors in the past; I surely didn’t think about it this way before. With her own books, she gives you a first-hand account of the writing process. We lost a literary giant when she died.

An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding by David Hume

It was recommended that I read this because David Hume influenced Kant and it would help me understand the concepts in Critique of Pure Reason. He’s certainly an influential figure; in fact, without him, there would probably be no Arthur Schopenhauer, my favorite philosopher ever. He also influenced Albert Einstein, and I can see how this book was revolutionary in the science world. Sometimes it seemed more like a science book than a philosophy book. But I felt as if I was already familiar with these ideas and that he was just “preaching to the choir.” Most of it is just common sense, and he seems to repeat the same things over and over. He writes about how there is no proof of miracles defying the laws of nature, or of a Deity interfering in human affairs. These must have been controversial topics at the time and it’s surprising that he didn’t get in trouble with the church. He writes about causation and determinism, which are interesting topics, but I had already heard these ideas through people he influenced. I appreciate Hume’s legacy and the importance of this book, but I didn’t get much out it.

The World as Will and Representation, Vol. 1 by Arthur Schopenhauer

To date I have read many works on philosophy (although I have yet to read Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason), so I have some reference points to the comparative greatness of this volume. If you are interested in metaphysics, this is the book for you. Arthur Schopenhauer had an encyclopedic knowledge on this topic and The World as Will and Representation, Volume 1 leaves no stone unturned. The scope of this volume is enormous. After reading only a small portion of it, I had gained so much knowledge on metaphysics that it was hard to imagine how he could elaborate further. But he does elaborate, and in a way greater than I have seen done by any other philosopher. There is no filler in this lengthy volume. It’s a damn shame this is not more popular than it is.

This volume is divided into four books. Book One deals with “representation.” As all philosophers who followed Kant were influenced by him, so was Schopenhauer, but his views are somewhat different. Kant argued that we have a limited perception of reality, and that we can never perceive an object as the “thing in itself.” Schopenhauer believes that “The world is representation.” This means that an object cannot exist without a subject, and that our perception is what the world is. He goes on to lecture more about the nature of subjects and objects. This was something discussed by Descartes as well, but Schopenhauer adds to Descartes’s metaphysics and is more interesting to read.

Book Two deals with “will.” I had heard lectures on “free will” by contemporary philosophers like Sam Harris, but Schopenhauer puts Harris to shame, because he has a more nuanced view. He lectures in this book on how the will relates to the body. The subject feels that he is “willing” the body (object) to take action. Therefore action (object) and will (subject) exist separately and simultaneously. We view others as objects, but we can view ourselves as both objects and subjects. Therefore, the subject is the “thing in itself.”

Book Three returns to the topic of representation by discussing how the will of objects are represented to the subject. The universe is perpetuated through the will. It expresses itself through individuals, be they inorganic, plants, animals, or humans. It is the will of the rock that has been thrown to fly through the air, just like it is the will of a human to make the choices he makes. A human has more “freedom” than a lower form of life, and a lower form of life has more freedom than inorganic matter.

Book Four gets ethical and spiritual in its return to the topic of the will. One can become familiar with the idea of “oneness” through meditation, and there are many great books throughout the ages that cover it. Tao Te Ching is a great example. But I have yet to find one as thorough and articulate as this book. The “will-to-life” is what drives us and our ever-demanding desires can never be met; the only way to escape misery is to acknowledge the illusion of our separateness and that the will of the world is One. My review has only scratched the surface of this volume. If you care about philosophy, you’ve got to check out this masterpiece by the greatest metaphysician of all time!

Brain Droppings by George Carlin

I listened to this on audio book during a long road trip, and it was perfect for that because there’s no plot to follow and not a lot of intricate details that you must understand while you’re concentrating on the road. It was read by the author, which is always a plus. Even though he claims at the start of the book to really be an optimist, I can’t help but think it would have been hard to come up with most of his material without being a little bitter. In typical Carlin fashion, he ridicules many of the stupid things that people in society say and do. He claims to love individuals but despises when they start to form groups and tribes. The groups are where many of these stupid ideas come from. Although he makes good points, I believe that many of these observations are tongue-in-cheek. One of my favorite parts of the book was “A Place for My Stuff.” I have never been materialistic, so I appreciated his ridicule of people who place so much value on material possessions. Carlin was a big part of the counter-culture, and I enjoy his political commentary, especially when his bitterness shines through. This book was less political than his other material, and that is one reason why I found it lacking. Much of his other material is better.

On the Way to Language by Martin Heidegger

Several months ago, I purchased this paperback in a used bookstore in Florence, AL. I started reading it and finished most of it, then put it down for several months. I picked it back up a few days ago and finished it. I don’t fully recall the middle chapters, so I’m only going to discuss the first and last chapters, “A Dialogue On Language” and “Language In The Poem.” “A Dialogue On Language” is a discussion between a Westerner and a Japanese person. As I recall, they talk about the differences between Eastern and Western languages. It occurred to me that because the alphabets are so drastically different, it would be hard to translate Eastern language into Western language, and vice-versa. Each are saying things that the other can’t possibly understand. I see this when I read various translations of Tao Te Ching. “Language In The Poem” talks about ambiguity in poetry. I haven’t read much poetry and am unfamiliar with it, so I thought I wouldn’t get much out of this chapter; I was wrong. Heidegger’s writing about the poetry is ambiguous itself, and it sparked my imagination to fill in the gaps. This book may have gotten 5 stars if the middle chapters were not slightly less amazing than the bookends.

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius

Translated by George Long

This is a review for George Long’s translation. To see my 5 star review for John Piazza and Jacob Needleman’s translation, go here https://www.goodreads.com/review/show…

“I could have made the language more easy and flowing…” p.124

George Long says it himself right here. Although this book has its own value, I’m so glad I read the other one first. One problem for me was that Long’s translation was in 19th century British English. Piazza and Needleman’s version was in American English, published in 2008. Another factor was that Long’s was a complete version, with Piazza/Needleman being only selected writings, probably the easiest to understand and apply. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy reading English lit. I’m currently reading Dickens, and I plan on taking on some of Shakespeare’s stuff soon. But a big part of the challenge I enjoy in those books is understanding the language. At this point in my Stoic journey, I just want an easy read that I can apply to my life.

The Lottery and Other Stories by Shirley Jackson

I read the first and last stories in this collection, “The Intoxicated” and “The Lottery,” about a year before reading it in its entirety. Here are the reviews I wrote for those stories:

The Intoxicated

“If people had been really, honestly scared when you were young we wouldn’t be so badly off today.”

The Intoxicated is not one of Shirley Jackson’s best short stories, but it’s still pretty good. I saw that it had a lot of negative reviews on here, but I knew it couldn’t be that bad. I’ve never read anything by her that I didn’t like. The style of her writing always pulls me in and creeps me out; sometimes it’s not as much about what she says as how she says it.

In a conversation she has with a drunk man at her parents’ party, a young girl gives her prophetic vision for the future of the world, blaming his generation’s decisions for the dark days ahead. She seems almost gleeful as she tells what her plans are for this armageddon. The man acts as if she’s getting on his nerves, but if you read between the lines, you can tell he’s just feigning irritation to mask his fear.

“Kids nowadays”

The Lottery

** spoiler alert ** WARNING: SPOILERS

If you haven’t read this yet, I highly recommend you read the story first, then come back and read my review.

I don’t know why I had never heard of her until now, because Shirley Jackson is a horror author who gives Lovecraft and Poe a run for their money. This short story was recommended to me, and I started listening to the audio book not knowing what to expect. When I first started into it, I didn’t know it was horror; I just thought it was probably a feel-good story about a small-town lottery. I didn’t know why they were piling up the rocks at the start of the story, but I didn’t think much of it. The tradition of having a lottery in a small town was charming, and it seemed nice that the townspeople got together for such events. I thought it must have been annoying to everyone when Tessie started complaining, and I really didn’t understand why she was. I got a chill at the end. It’s the best and most surprising short story ending that I’ve ever read.

When I finally started reading the whole series of short stories, I noticed a theme that made the stories more interesting in the context of the book. “The Witch” and “The Lottery” are the only stories that fit neatly in the horror genre, but most of them deal with the struggles of being a woman in the 1940’s, which was perhaps a horror in itself. Sections II, III, and IV are introduced with excerpts from Sadducismus Triumphatus, which could be associated with Gothic literature, or could be a reference to how women were treated at the time.

Outgrowing God by Richard Dawkins

I overheard some co-workers (one of them being an engineer, ironically) having a “philosophical” discussion, and one of them said that he believed in adaptation, but not evolution. The other one agreed and had some ridiculous comments to add. It then occurred to me that I may be the only one of my coworkers who believes in evolution. That’s frustrating, and religion is to blame for them not accepting this scientific fact. They should outgrow god.

I’ve read anti-religion books by Nietzsche and Hitchens, as well as The God Delusion by Dawkins, and Outgrowing God is the most compelling argument for atheism I’ve read. Dawkins’s critics say that atheism is a worn-out topic, but I think as long as people are denying facts, it needs to be discussed and elaborated on. He is right for being passionate about it. Although I was already convinced before reading this, this book further convinced me of the importance of atheism, especially with the Multiverse Theory and the “god of the gaps.” This theory wouldn’t exist if people hadn’t freed their minds of that idea.

Medgar Evers by Jennie Brown

My parents have accumulated a lot of things throughout the years, and I always enjoy browsing through their basement for stuff I can use, especially books. I ran across this gem there a few weeks ago and immediately started reading it. It must not be widely published, considering it came out in 1994 and I’m the first person to rate and review it. I didn’t know who this martyr was, and that goes to show how uninformed I’ve been about the civil rights movement, something that happened where I’ve lived all my life. This is a great history lesson and biography of a man whose legacy has perhaps been over shadowed by that of other civil rights leaders. A thing that always comes to mind when I read these kinds of books is how relevant all this is still today. Evers’s killer was not brought to justice until ’94, the same year this was published. Emmett Till’s accuser is still alive today and walking free. Nelson Mandela was finally taken off the U.S. terrorist watch list in 2008. In Mississippi, where Evers was an activist and was assassinated, the confederate flag is still part of the state flag. Confederate monuments are displayed at courthouses all over the South. It’s ridiculous that people say “Things are better now and people should get over the past.”

The Assignation by Edgar Allan Poe

I started reading Poe because he was an influence on HP Lovecraft and I can clearly see his influence in this story. It’s a first-person narrative that starts off with a baby being dropped into a canal in Venice by its mother. The narrator observes how she doesn’t seem distraught. He also talks about how beautiful she is and describes her appearance in great detail. His description of the mother seems to be hinting on some unknown facts that are left to the reader’s imagination. He attempts to rescue the child but another man is more capable of performing the task. His description of the man’s heroism shows that he clearly admires him. Later, the narrator goes with the hero to visit his apartment. He stands in awe of its architecture and decoration. They start drinking and, as the hero reveals more about himself and his experiences, the narrator becomes suspicious of his character. The ending is fairly predictable and I won’t give it away here even though you’ll probably be able to guess what’s going to happen on your own. Despite its predictability, it’s a good, solid ending. Much of the writing in this story is vague so it leaves a lot up to the reader’s imagination. I thought it was great and I highly recommend it. Also, it’s so short that even if you don’t like it, you won’t have wasted much of your time.

The Drummer Boy of Shiloh by Ray Bradbury

Well, that was short and sweet! I believe stories can be interpreted many ways. They may just reaffirm some people’s beliefs, while enlightening others. Some may take a meaning totally different from what the author intended. One of the main reasons I read is because I’m always searching for ideas. Like some of James Joyce’s stories, this was so short I probably spent more time thinking of what to write in my review than I did reading it. What’s important is it got me thinking.

For me it was a testament to the power of music. Being a musician myself made it easier to identify with the drummer boy, but what the General in the story talks about is how his music affects the soldiers. Everyone knows how music can give you motivation or hope; it can evoke several different emotions. The soldiers are fearing for their lives, thinking of themselves more than the good of the army and victory. The drummer unites them and gives them courage. The General even hinted that the drummer’s job was as important as his. (Drums were also used for technical reasons not discussed in this story.) I didn’t know nor ever really thought about why they had drummers in battles, so this was informative as well as inspirational.

Sonny’s Blues by James Baldwin

“Tell you a little secret about the blues; it’s not enough to know which notes to play, you gotta know why they need to be played.” -George Carlin

Sonny knew why they needed to be played.

This is the second book by James Baldwin that I’ve read, and he is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. It’s one of those books that makes me wonder why it isn’t more popular. If you’re a musician or a fan of blues and jazz, then you’ve got to check this out. It’s a first-person narrative by Sonny’s brother, who is not as hip as Sonny and is always in altercations with him. Sonny gets busted for heroin and when he gets out of jail, the family is worried that he’ll cause more trouble. They’ve suffered many hardships and don’t need any more added to the list. You can imagine the shock when Sonny tells his brother he wants to play jazz! The story ends with him going to see Sonny’s band play. Baldwin’s description of the performance gives a great account of what it means to be an authentic jazz musician.

Letter from Birmingham Jail by Martin Luther King

In spite of the fact that this letter was written in 1963, it is still relevant to current events. Today, people are criticized for protesting at the wrong place and/or time. Examples would be kneeling during the National Anthem or blocking traffic. People also accused Martin Luther King Jr. of poor timing and he defended his actions in this letter. Another issue currently being discussed is the justification of separating immigrant families by people like Jeff Sessions and Sarah Sanders who point out that the Bible says you must obey the law of the land. King’s critics used the same arguments, and he was jailed (in Birmingham) for his actions. King was a Biblical scholar and he claimed in this letter that although it is immoral to disobey just laws, it is moral to disobey unjust laws. It’s sad that so many people don’t know what he really stood for. Today he is popular among liberals and conservatives but he was one of the most hated men in the United States while he was alive. I’m a fan of philosophy, so it was especially pleasing for me when he referenced Socrates and Saint Thomas Aquinas. His prose was entertaining and his message was enlightening. It clocks in at under an hour on audio book but it says a lot in a short amount of time. I highly recommend it because it might give you a new perspective.

Update 1/29/2020: I actually got a day off from work for MLK day this year so I listened to the audiobook again and found it refreshing. One part that made me think was when he talks about “white moderates.” I know a few people like that. If this audio was playing somewhere in public, a lot of people would probably get mad, not knowing who the author was.

Homage to Switzerland by Ernest Hemingway

I’ve really tried to give Hemingway a chance and have read about half of his short stories, but I’m starting to realize that it’s just not for me. I don’t care too much for the “iceberg theory.” Hemingway’s style is to give the reader a vague idea of what’s going on and then let them figure out the rest from there. I like authors who are more descriptive and make you figure out less on your own than this. Besides, the act of reading itself forces you to use your imagination to create images of what the words describe, at least a lot more than TV and movies do.

This story has three sections about three different men who all go to the same station cafe at different times. The first one tries to make a connection with the waitress, eventually offering her money for sex. She refuses. The second one starts a conversation with a group of men and tells them about his divorce, thinking it will blunt the pain. It only made it worse though. The third one is approached by a man who is a member of the National Geographic Society. He tells the man that his father was also a member of that group. They discuss it for a while, and he has to feign interest in a topic that he really cares nothing about. All three characters are trying to make a connection with others but fail miserably. It’s a really sad story.

Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart by Gordon Livingston 

This, in addition to Daring Greatly, was recommended by my therapist. It’s unique in that a lot of these types of books may target younger people, but this one addresses problems if people who may be older and have already been through a lot; they might just be tired of life and the constant struggle. The author has seen a lot, from war to death in the family. I found it to be an entertaining read, but I have failed in utilizing the book for my own problems. It does, however, share a hope that things can get better. It’s divided up neatly with bite sized chapters/stories/lessons that keep you moving through the book. 

The Social Leap by William Von Hippel 

I’m guilty of watching Joe Rogan’s podcast from time to time, and when I saw Von Hippel on there promoting this book, it sparked my interest. (The podcast is basically a synopsis of this book. Worth a listen.) Since I discovered Richard Dawkins’s books, I’ve been fascinated with evolution, especially evolution of the human brain. This book makes some interesting points about why we think the way we do, although I don’t know how much is based on speculation vs. hard facts. It held my interest and was an easy read. With our big brains, we are so different from other members of the animal kingdom. It’s fun to think about how we got that way. 

Pretty Girls by Karin Slaughter 

This was a book recommended by Gillian Flynn, but unfortunately it looks like the books she recommends are not nearly on the same level as her own writing. I like crime novels, but the detective work in these types of books usually bore me. That was the case here. The gruesome, disturbing parts were the most interesting. There just wasn’t enough of that stuff. I also liked the letters the dad wrote to his murdered daughter. There was a mystery element that was somewhat surprising at the end of the book. I’m easily surprised just because I usually don’t put much thought into predicting outcomes. I actually put this book down for a while, read some other books, and came back to it. It was more refreshing on my return. 

Red by Jack Ketchum 

The Kindle version I got had “Red” and an additional story called “The Passenger.” At first, I was going to give this two stars but after reading The Passenger, I’m going to give it three. Red was only ok. I generally don’t like dog stories that much, and it also wasn’t as shocking or disturbing as what I’ve come to want and expect from Ketchum. The Passenger, on the other hand, was quite good. It made me think of when I used to party a lot, getting in some stranger’s car and going on an adventure. Luckily, none of my adventures turned out the way this one did for Janet! 

Garden of Fiends arranged by Mark Matthews 

I immediately started this one after I finished Lullabies for Suffering. Everything by Mark Matthews is really cheap on Kindle, so I’ve already bought a lot of his stuff. These short stories are the same theme as Lullabies, and they’re just as good. A cool thing about collections like this is it exposes you to different authors, so you can decide which ones you like the best and check out their other stuff, their longer reads. 

Sunburn by Laura Lippman 

**spoiler alert** This book started off pretty good. It was cool to read about Polly’s escape to a new town and her love affair/triangle with Adam was exciting. But, as often happens to me in books, boredom hit with the detective work, and I had to put it down and pick it back up again later, refreshed. One character that kept me going was Gregg. I felt sorry for him, and his fate was the final blow from this homicidal woman. Lippman wraps the book up like Shakespeare usually does, with a bloodbath. I’m just glad the protagonist finally gave up dating. 

Inferno by Dante, translated by John Ciardi 

John Ciardi’s translation is unreadable. Mark Musa’s is much better.

I read Musa’s translation for a Western Literature class when I was in college and thought it was easy to understand. Years later, I picked up Ciardi’s translation in a bookstore, so I could revisit this masterpiece. I didn’t think about who the translator was. I had never paid any attention to that kind of thing before, so it was surprising when I started reading it and it was so terrible. Finally, I found my old college textbook in a used bookstore and bought it. That brought back the nostalgic feeling I was hoping for.

The Divine Comedy is terza rima, meaning that the last words of the first and third lines in a segment must rhyme. Ciardi made all these words rhyme in English also, which was problematic. I wish I could read Italian so I could get the most out of this poetry, but since I can’t, I stuck with the English version that didn’t rhyme. 

Peaceable Kingdom by Jack Ketchum 

**spoiler alert** I got on a big Ketchum kick after reading The Girl Next Door. I’ve been switching back and forth between novels and short story collections to keep things interesting. This is a short story collection that I got a lot of mileage out of. All the stories are great, but I’d say the most disturbing ones are towards the front of the book. The only gripe I have is one another reviewer mentioned: that some of the stories aren’t resolved at the end. However, the very last story gave me a great sense of satisfaction and redemption when he finally references the books title and wraps it up nicely. 

Sweet Virginia by Caroline Kepnes 

I’m a huge fan of Kepnes and wanted to give it a higher rating, but just couldn’t. It started off pretty interesting and the peak of the story was when the protagonist started getting text messages from a stranger. I thought the story was going to get exciting at that point (I’ve come to expect excitement from a great author like Kepnes), but it just went downhill from there. I kept expecting more from the story than what I got; it ended abruptly and was too short. If you want to read a great short story from Kepnes, read “Monsters,” from Lullabies for Suffering. That one is five stars. I’m just eager for her to write a new full-length novel. 

 

Rosshalde by Herman Hesse 

“Loneliness is such a drag.” -Burning of the Midnight Lamp, The Jimi Hendrix Experience

If you’ve never read anything by Hesse and are thinking of starting with this one, don’t. Put this down and go get a copy of Siddhartha to read. It’s better. Not that this isn’t good, it’s just that Siddhartha is one of the GOATs. Hesse was into Eastern philosophy, and I feel that because of this, his writing can have a calming effect. I’d sometimes read a couple pages of this book during my morning meditation and it would calm my mind. It’s one of those things where it’s not what he’s writing but the way he’s writing. But I was just a little disappointed by the plot of the story. I kept on wondering if he was going to hurry up and go to India. I thought the book was going to be about his trip to India and whatever enlightenment he had on his journey. When I neared the end, I slowly realized that wasn’t going to happen, but I was still expecting it 3/4 of the way through. The end was a major drag, not that I minded; I admire Hesse’s ability to portray that sentiment as well as he did. I suppose the point of the story is the protagonist’s ability to make peace with his misery. 3.5 stars. 

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn 

Now that I’m in quarantine, I’m seeking out easy comfort reads to pass the time away in isolation. This one hit the spot, and I finished it in just a few days. It took me only a short time to adjust to the frequent changes between Amy and Nick’s first-person narratives, and after that I was off and running. It’s obvious that Flynn’s intention was for this to be a page-turner, and it’s chock full of plot twists that stimulate your curiosity. (Page-turners like this always make me think of Misery by Stephen King, which for me is one of the greatest, and few of them live up to it. This one, although good, didn’t.) Amy and Nick both seem like terrible people, but I found myself rooting for Nick for some reason. Toward the end, I was hoping that he’d end up killing her, but I doubted that would happen, even though I had no idea what was going to happen. Part of the element of surprise is that the characters’ personalities change so much during the novel, they evolve and devolve, mask their true selves, and maybe are bipolar, so you can’t judge their character and make predictions well. This book did an excellent job of holding my attention the whole time, but Gillian, if you could change the ending to have Nick kill Amy, that’d be great! 

Origins by Neil DeGrasse Tyson 

I can honestly say that I’m now smarter and know more about the universe than I was before I started reading this. I’ve read quite a few of Tyson’s books at this point, but lately I’ve been getting more out of them and learning more. Some reviews on here talk of the difficulty of the book, and one had a problem with retaining the audio book. I would not recommend this in audio form unless you are really good at retaining books in that form. I know I’m not, and that’s why I usually save easier reads for audio. This book is a challenge, but not overbearingly difficult, somewhere between Kant and King. Some parts were dull at first, like the quantum-level stuff, but even that paid off in the end with delayed gratification. When he talks about the expansion of the universe, I don’t always completely understand, but the light-bulb moments where it clicks are mind-blowing and rewarding. Having just finished The Extended Phenotype and found value in its glossary for reference, I didn’t feel the need to reference many terms in Origins’s glossary, but I went ahead and read the whole thing after I finished the main text. I’m glad I did. The glossary gets five stars. I suggest you read the glossary first before you read the actual book. I wish I had. 

Sapiens by Noah Yuval Harari 

I bought Sapeins: A Brief History of Humankind because I thought it was going to be about the biology and neuroscience of how homo-sapiens evolved. Only the first part, “The Cognitive Revolution” is about that. A larger portion is about the history of human culture. So, it’s not exactly what I was looking for, but it’s still informative and entertaining. I certainly feel like I’m smarter than I was before I started it, well-armed with historical facts that could be used in a debate on these topics. People tend to view history through a modern perspective, thinking that individuals, cultures, and governments were similar to how they are today. But this book demonstrates that attitudes, behavior, and life-situations were a lot different from what we would assume. The sections “Agricultural Revolution”, “Unification of Mankind”, and “Scientific Revolution” outline the major events that changed history.

Note-worthy points from the book:
*The agricultural revolution didn’t really improve people’s lives. It just caused overpopulation.
*Europe was the only continent concerned with imperialism. The East had the means to conquer but no desire to.
*Factory-farming is heinous. The book describes in detail how the animals we eat are treated. It wasn’t always this way for them.

The book is somewhat derivative, putting a different spin on some things I already knew. But I recommend it for laypeople who are interested in history; you’ll learn a lot. 3 1/2 stars. 

The Painted Skin by Pu Songling 

**spoiler alert** What did I just read?! This guy must have had some good drugs! Seriously though, reading things from different cultures and time-periods can be mind-blowing at times. The Painted Skin is the most famous short-story from Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio by Pu Songling, so it was the one I decided to read first. I’m really pleased with this discovery, knowing there are close to five hundred more stories like this in the book. Having read some reviews of Pu Songling, I was expecting something bizarre, and that’s what I got.

“Painted skin” means a demon painted itself to look like a girl in order to trick a man named Wang into taking her (it) into his home. When Wang sees the demon painting itself to look like a girl, the demon kills him. Then Wang’s wife goes to a priest, so he can help her save him. The priest tells her that if she drinks some of his spit it will make her puke up a heart that she can rub on Wang’s wound and bring him back to life. Then that’s what she does and they live happily ever after. Ha ha! I think this story has some metaphorical lessons about marriage, adultery, and religion, but I really just liked the examples it used. 

Ishmael by Daniel Quinn 

Since I’m such a big reader, I try to read anything anybody ever recommends. Months ago, my aunt gave me a copy of this to read. I told her I had a lot of other things ahead of it on my tbr, and that I’d definitely read it but it might be a while. Every time I’d see her after that though, she’d ask me if I’d started it yet, I’d say no, and she’d look annoyed, so I moved it up a few notched on the list. This is a really easy, entertaining read, and quite enlightening in its own way. However, it is a work of fiction, and sometimes I felt like a talking gorilla was one of the most realistic parts of the story. Ishmael’s philosophy is based on the concept of “Taker” and “Leaver” culture, Taker being our current culture and Leaver being primitive cultures. Ishmael, being a gorilla, is pro-Leaver. My argument is that this philosophy is binary, something that, ironically, would be associated with Taker culture. Humans have done tremendous damage to the world and their own species, but this didn’t only happen in the last 10,000 years. Hunter-gatherers caused many animals to go extinct, like the woolly mammoth, way before the agricultural revolution. This is a good book but it seems a little dogmatic. It’s not as black-and-white as the gorilla thinks. Correct me if I’m wrong. 

The Gods of Pegana by Lord Dunsany 

Lovecraft brought me here, and I’m glad he did. In H.P. Lovecraft, The Complete Fiction, S.T. Joshi claims that The White Ship, The Street, and The Doom that Came to Sarnath were influenced by Dunsany. Being the Lovecraft fanatic I am, I couldn’t justify not reading something by Dunsany. After reading this, his influence on Lovecraft’s gods is obvious to me. This story puts a cool twist on Greek polytheism, making me eager to revisit Homer’s poems. The weird names he gives his gods is probably what affected Lovecraft the most, possibly giving him the idea for “Cthulhu.” Without Dunsany, there would be no Lovecraft. 

Wolfpack by Abby Wombach 

I challenged myself to read 10 books published in 2019, by the end of 2019, so I could make a top 10 list at the end of the year; I knew an easy way would be to make some, but not all, of them short, and this is one of the short ones. I just picked this in Books-A-Million and read the whole thing there. And I need to clarify, a two star review means it’s good. It’s just not on the level of some of the amazing literature I’ve read. I’d classify this under self-help/motivation, and it does a good job at that. In fact it did motivate and inspire me, on the day I read it, to go out and be part of my “wolfpack.” I’m generally a solitary person, but the solitary lifestyle has its limitations. I understood what she meant when she said her workouts became boring after she left soccer and lost her wolfpack. Working out can be a chore, and I’ve tried different ways to make it something to look forward to. I’ve enjoyed Crossfit because there are people there who inspire you and there’s a fun, competitive spirit. You have to be able to make the right connections wherever you go. I’d like to be part of a wolfpack that has members helping each other accomplish their goals, not dragging each other off to do things that aren’t productive. That’s what this book is about. 

How Not to Get Shot by D.L. Hughley 

3 1/2 stars. D.L. Hughley has some interesting and enlightening takes on a lot of social issues. I’ve listened to some of his interviews and agree with most of what he has to say, and that’s what made me want to buy this book. The book is an easy read and quite entertaining, but I was hoping it would go deeper into the topics he talks about in his interviews; it just seems to scratch the surface. It opened my eyes about some obvious things, like how most black families have been in the United States longer than white families who immigrated from Europe. My German ancestors came here in the late 19th century, long after most black ancestors were brought on slave ships.

This book made me angry at a lot of the white people I know, even the ones who don’t support Trump. Hughley does a great job of pointing out how they rationalize their opinions without trying to have any kind of nuanced point of view, because acknowledging the truth might cause them to lose the power they have from white-supremacy. Even liberals, who know that right-wing economic policies don’t benefit them, still may want to benefit by the double-standards society applies to the races. 

Three Lives by Gertrude Stein 

The late, great Toni Morrison wrote an essay called “Gertrude Stein and the Difference She Makes” in her last book, The Source of Self Regard. It discusses how white authors like Stein portrayed black characters. That’s what led me to check out this book, and I suggest you read Morrison’s essay before you read this, because it’ll give you a perspective you wouldn’t otherwise have. If I hadn’t read that, I doubt I would’ve finished this. I found it on Kindle for 99 cents. As much as I like to go against the grain, I’m going to have to agree with the consensus here and give it a low rating. I think the first and third lives were the best stories, just because the second life dragged on for way too long. If the second one hadn’t been so long I might’ve given it three stars. Melanctha’s relationship with her first boyfriend, Jeff Campbell, was the longest and most boring part of the book. They kept on fighting and making-up; I didn’t think it was ever going to end. But the tragic ending of Melanctha’s life, especially when her friend rejected her, was sad and evoked an emotion in me, a real tear-jerker; that was some good writing. The end of the third life was also tragic, but didn’t elicit quite the same emotional response as the second. You just have to wade through a bunch of filler to get to the good parts. 

Gutted arranged by Doug Murano 

I’ve been reading a lot of horror short-story collections like these and have gotten a lot of mileage out of them. I grew up on Stephen King and the like, but never got as much into lesser-known horror writers as I did this year, so I’m glad to call myself a fan of “indie-horror” now. If you crave page-turners like I do, you might want to look into this kind of stuff. Most of these are less than five bucks on Kindle, (sometimes you’ll find something for a buck or free!) but they’re hard to find in bookstores. You can pick out your favorite authors from the collections and look into their full-length novels. one thing that made this special for me was the inclusion of Clive Barker’s 1988 story, “Coming to Grief.” Barker was like my “gateway drug” into horror fiction, so it was a pleasure to get to revisit his writing. All the stories leading up to Barker’s were great, and when I got to the page with Clive’s name on it, it was surreal. I’ve read The Great and Secret Show three times over the years, as well as many of his other books, but somehow I’d missed this one. It captured the metaphysical vibe of his other work, and gave me a nostalgic feeling. There’s no filler in this collection, and it’s an all-star lineup. I love books like these that only take me a day or two to finish. 

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin 

I’m open to reading almost all types of literature, with very few exceptions, and when choosing my first romance novel (Is it okay to call this that?), I decided to go with the mother of them all. I was not disappointed. If you’ve read many of my book reviews, you may have noticed me sometimes whining about having to keep up with a lot of characters, and there were a lot of them in this book, but I enjoyed the challenge here. Halfway through, I still hadn’t familiarized myself too well, but nearing the end, I prided myself in knowing a good amount of them. I’m sure a second reading would be even more rewarding because of my familiarity from the first. Here’s my take on the suitors: Mr. Collins is a pretentious prick; Mr. Wickham is a douche, just your typical fuccboi; Mr. Bingley plays a major role in the book, but I failed to retain his personality traits. Now, Mr. Darcy, what a gentleman. No wonder Elizabeth couldn’t help falling in love with him. And Lady Catherine gets an honorable mention. She’s so annoying; the character you love to hate. Finally, there’s Liz, with her take-no-nonsense attitude, is the badass protagonist. This book has some of the best character development of any of the classics I’ve read. 

Crossroads by Laurel Hightower 

I love books like this that waste no time and get straight to the point, sucking you in. This is one of the best ghost stories I’ve read. It shares a characteristic with other great psychological horror in that it leaves something to the imagination. Is the ghost real or just in Chris’s mind? Or is it an evil spirit disguised as who she hopes it is? The book gives some hints, but essentially leaves it up to the reader. I decided it was some demon that stole her son’s soul so it could use him to trick her and devour her also. Her desperation made it easy for that demon. Books give us an opportunity to create visuals in our head in a way that television can’t. There’s a cross on the side of the road on Hwy 43, near the Alabama/Tennessee state line where a man was killed by a drunk driver. While reading, I imagined Chris there making her sacrifices to her son/demon. The book also leaves some flexibility with the characters’ personas. Chris makes her own mother out to be a terrible person, but I could sympathize with her and didn’t see her as villainous. And what a great title! I’ve been listening to Robert Johnson for decades and this book vibes with the darkness of that man’s music. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsB_c… 

Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy by Bertrand Russell 

I picked this book up not knowing what to expect. Maybe I thought, since it was fairly short, and had the word “Introduction” in the title, that I could finish it quickly and easily. The first part of the book was interesting and easy to understand. It made me think about math, numbers, and language in a totally different way. Most people take things like math and language for granted. (I know I used to.) They don’t really think about how hard it would actually be to come up with these concepts in the first place. Russell’s explanation of this is fascinating, but he quickly got into explanations and formulas way over my head. A lot of this stuff is as difficult to understand as Kant, and I just wasn’t prepared for it, but I also think he should’ve left some of it out of the “Introduction.” A lot of it should’ve just been left in Principia Mathematica. One concept I struggled with was the Dedekindian Gap, and how the square root of two presents a gap in rational numbers. I listened to a Partially Examined Life podcast on this book, and at the end of the podcast, they explained it, and a light bulb went off for me, so I was proud of myself for finally understanding. To Russell’s credit, he can cover a lot of different ground in philosophy. The History of Western Philosophy is a totally different reading experience than this. 

The Taoist Priest of Laoshan Mountain by Pu Songling 

**spoiler alert** This is one of the many short-stories from Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio. It’s a little tamer than “The Painted Skin,” perhaps because the characters were more into meditation and spirituality than crazy antics. I enjoy Eastern philosophy and am familiar with the Taoist religion through Tao Te Ching, so perhaps that helped me understand this text on a deeper level. I feel like the moral lesson of humility is at the center of this story. It’s certainly an important lesson and a sentiment that I agree with and can relate to, but what I really enjoyed was how bizarre the story was.

Mr. Wang, the protagonist, has to work hard to earn his lessons from the priest. The priest finally decides to teach him how to walk through walls. At first Mr. Wang is too scared to run really fast at the wall, but the priest tells him he has to man-up. He finally runs through the wall and magically ends up on the other side. After this, Mr. Wang gets all cocky and starts bragging to everybody about his new ability, but when he tries to show it off, he ends up hitting the wall and busting his noggin! The moral of the story: Don’t get too cocky about your spiritual lessons. 

Talking to Strangers by Malcolm Gladwell 

I was introduced to Gladwell’s writing when I was required to read Outliers in college. I was mostly into genre-fiction at the time, so I wasn’t crazy about it then. I’d probably like it at lot more if I went back and read it now. I can see the similarities in Talking to Strangers and Outliers in that in both books he analyzes situations and has a unique take on why the were that way. This book was so interesting and hard to put down that I won’t give it a low rating despite its controversy. The most I can take off is one star. What I remember about Outliers is that it showed how luck, strategy, and talent all combine in the right way to create success. Talking to Strangers claims that misunderstanding contributes to tragic situations. Like in Outliers, he gives a nuanced view to specific instances. There are nuances in every situation; to deny that is wrong. This time though, there seems to be more holes in his philosophy. Gladwell’s been all over the media lately promoting this book. I watched a little of his appearance on the Joe Rogan podcast where Rogan challenges him on his views of the Sandra Bland case. This convinced me even more of his flawed logic. I’m not going to give it minus a million stars though, nor would I any book. 

Dead Inside by Chandler Morrison 

A lot of people are talking about how horrible and disturbing this is, and I agree that the subject matter is taboo, but it didn’t bug me at all, really. I guess I’m just numb to that kind of stuff. It’s just necrophilia and cannibalism, c’mon! But I knew from how the reviewers went on about it that it’d be fun read, and it was. It’s a love story, really. Perhaps somebody should put it in the romance section of a bookstore so fans of that genre can read about the “relationship” between the two in this book! The protagonist seems to have a moral compass even though he has weird, unconventional habits. A non-conformist, if you will. His girlfriend, on the other hand, is more malicious. So the taboo parts are super-entertaining, but when the plot turns from sick to evil, it creates a cool dynamic. One part was predictable, but it was still fun to see when it turned out like I thought. There are probably more pop-culture references that I recognized in here than any other book I’ve read. Poe, Bukowski, Palahniuk, Ministry, and I’m probably leaving out one or two. This is another one of those books on my indie-horror kick that I knocked out in a couple nights, and like the others, it’s cheap on Kindle. If you like Jack Ketchum, you’ll probably like this. 

More Better Deals by Joe Lansdale 

(mild spoilers)

It’s been years since I’ve read anything by Lansdale, and I’m glad to see he hasn’t lost his touch! Such a fun, exciting read that was hard to put down. I was always wondering what was going to happen next, and when it got to Chapter 32, my heart was literally pumping; it’s amazing that a book can have that effect on me, just words on a page. One thing that I think makes me different from other readers is that I don’t usually try to figure out the characters and their ulterior motives. I just kind of go with the flow. So I was probably just as gullible as the protagonist was about his love interest. I should have known (and he should have to) that she was a scam artist. But then, when it was finally revealed in the book, I was like, “oh yeah, duh!” The book got me thinking about how important money is and what lengths people will go to to get it. I know it’s important to me, and I worry about it some, but most of us have never had this kind of relationship with money (at least I hope not.) Sometimes it’s hard to find an author who can keep you glued to the page, but Lansdale has proven he can do that. I spent a while browsing through Kindle, reading samples, and I finally decided on Of Mice and Minestrome by Lansdale as my next read. 

The Measure of a Man by MLK 

Wow, that was inspiring. I’ll attempt to compare and contrast this with Letter from Birmingham Jail, which is also great. I think they are both a blend of spirituality and civil rights, but this leans more towards the spiritual while Letter leans the other way. The two sermons in this short 99 cent Kindle book are a kind of first century style of Christianity that I can get on with. The first sermon, The Measure of a Man, is a story of redemption I needed to hear. Things are getting better in my life and I’m finally reading something that helps me in a real way. The reference to Revelations in the second sermon, The Dimensions of a Complete Life, reminds me that I need to read the Bible again. It’s on my tbr, but I don’t know when I’ll get around to it. Maybe a little religious hand waving in here but that doesn’t bother me. These sermons remind me of what really matters in life. 

The Art of Living inspired by Epictetus 

I feel like I got tricked into buying this. I walked into BAM! one day and went straight to the philosophy section like I always do, where I saw this small paperback. I’d read George Long’s translation of Epictetus, and didn’t get much out of it, but I didn’t like his translation of Marcus Aurelius either, so I thought a different, more current translation would probably be better. It turned out that this isn’t even an actual translation. It’s just an interpretation. It even says here on Goodreads that it’s “by” Epictetus. It’s not! I don’t care too much to know about what Stoic philosophers would have thought today. They were a product of their time. I want to read more about slaves, asses, and wretches! Also (this may be on me), I wasn’t able to incorporate this into any kind of mindfulness like I could with some other books. But I’m not giving up on ole’ Epictetus. I think when I come across an actual modern translation it will probably be good. I’m open to suggestions. 

Does Santa Exist? by Eric Kaplan 

I ran across this guy’s Twitter account, and find him to be one of the most interesting people I follow, even if I don’t understand everything he tweets about. When I saw this book in the library, I decided it might give me a greater insight into his thought. He’s a big fan of Heidegger, so you can expect this book to be fairly bizarre and difficult. At first it was a hard read, and the part about Bertrand Russell was so mind boggling it made my head hurt thinking about it (I think it may be mentioned in the book that this might happen.), but as the book went on, I found it easier to understand. The subject matter is inspiring in a strange way. Definitely not your typical approach to finding meaning in life. 

Nine Perfect Strangers by Liane Moriarty 

I don’t know what’s up with all the haters on here giving bad reviews. Maybe they’re looking for another Big Little Lies (which was great also), or maybe the people who typically read Moriarty’s books don’t have the same taste as I do. I give it 4 1/2 stars, and decided to round up after reading some of these reviews. Especially when someone in the comments says “I read your one-star review, so I decided not to read it. Thanks!” There were a lot of characters, but they weren’t hard to keep up with, and I got attached to all of them. I’m pretty open-minded about books and don’t expect a certain thing; I like to be surprised. A lot of this has to do with Zen philosophy, but it’s combined with an excitement, edge, and thrill that most Zen books don’t have. At the end of the book, Moriarty references The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley. That’s a great book and you can see where some of the ideas about psychedelic drugs came from. If you’re reading this, I urge you, don’t believe all the negative reviews. Providence by Caroline Kepnes is another great book that has bad reviews on here. Most of the readers were wanting another “YOU.” You don’t get YOU with Providence, and you don’t get Big Little Lies with Nine Perfect Strangers; you get something great but different. I don’t care that much about popular culture, and don’t even have my TV hooked up because I’m always reading. (I like YouTube though.) I know these people have movies and shows based on their books, but I probably wouldn’t know about them if it weren’t for their books. OK. Rant over. 

A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle 

I practice meditation every day, so the main reason I bought this paperback for $1 at Spring Hill Public Library was for help in that meditation. A lot of the book was divided up neatly into sections that only took a few minutes to read, and those sections were convenient to meditate on. As the book implied, I viewed myself as pure consciousness during these sessions, which helped me see the world in a non-judgmental way. This book, among many others, has helped me achieve peace and happiness.

On the other hand, although these ideas are fun to think about and may be metaphorically true, I don’t know if they are literally true. For example, a big part of the book is about how “you” are not your ego or identity, but “you” are consciousness. I think that maybe I’m all those things. It could just be seen as a debate about semantics. There’s at least one part in the book where he implies that consciousness doesn’t come from the brain. Nobody can prove where consciousness comes from, but I’d say it’s likely the brain. Dan Dennett would agree with me on this. When I’m calm and non-judgmental, that’s my brain working. When I’m anxious and fearful, that’s also my brain working. It all comes from the brain. So maybe there’s some pseudoscience there, not as bad as Deepak Chopra, though. There’s a debate online between Richard Dawkins and Deepak Chopra that shows some of the conflicts between science and gurus like this. Tolle mentions Friedrich Nietzsche, favorably, to my surprise, a few times in the book. Being the contrarian he was, I wonder what Nietzsche would think of Tolle and people of his ilk if he were alive today. 

The David Foster Wallace Reader 

Of course this gets five stars! Having never read DFW before, I checked this hardcover out of Florence-Lauderdale Public Library in Alabama and read a few of the short-stories at the beginning. I found them to be surprisingly easy for a so-called literary writer and on par with the best short stories I’ve read. I was in the process of moving to Tennessee, so I had to return the book when I was only about 100 pages in. A few months passed, and I kept on thinking about those bizarre short stories. Then one day, I was browsing my Kindle and found The DFW Reader for cheap, so I bought it and picked up where I left off. The book quickly moved on from the short story section to the many other sections, all equally great in their own ways. One of the many things that make this collection great is that it showcases Wallace’s versatility, rivaled by few. He can cover a broad range of topics but still maintain his own unique style which consists of numerous footnotes, big words (Like with Kant, I needed to look up two to three per page. This is where the Kindle comes in handy.), and insightfulness, a lot of which one would miss out on if they skipped said footnotes. I skipped over the “Infinite Jest” section, because I’m currently reading it and would just be doubling down. 

The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice 

I gave Interview five stars, but I think this is even better. Rice is the only vampire author I’ve read. I tried to read Dracula a couple times, but got bored and put it down; I’ll probably go back to it. So maybe I’m not well-read enough to say this, but I think Rice probably took the vampire genre to a whole other level. She had to know about history to be able to write this, and although I was already interested in this type of history, Lestat added an extra excitement to my curiosity. I’ve already started Queen of the Damned. 

Will Haunt You by Brian Kirk 

I discovered Brian Kirk’s writing from a short story he contributed to Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories. It was great, but was more straight-up horror than this. This book is bizarre, and that difference showcases his versatility as a horror author. I agree with the reviews that say some people won’t get this book, so in a way, I understand the low rating. But I was one who did get it, and I loved it! Being a sober musician myself who has played for drunk audiences, I could totally relate to the protagonist, and there were moments that scared the shit out of me! 

A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce 

Perhaps this was easier for me than for others because I could relate so much to the protagonist. I think this is one of those types of books where you’re supposed to draw your own conclusions, and my interpretation may not be “right” but it’s mine. I felt Stephen’s pain when he got in trouble for something that wasn’t really his fault. And it seemed like he never quite fit in with his school friends. He was a solitary character, like myself.

…and people say we read this stuff so we can feel smart. No, I already know I’m smart. I genuinely liked this fun read. It touched my heart. 

Screamscapes: Tales of Terror by Evans Light 

The first short story in this collection, “Crawlspace,” I got on Kindle for free. That story is in my top-10 (maybe top-5) short stories of all time. Maybe part of the reason it had such an effect on me was because I’ve put insulation up underneath a house before, and found the experience quite unsettling. After reading it, it seemed foolish not to buy this book, and Crawlspace had already made this collection 5 stars, even before I read the other stories. Light set the bar high for himself, but the other stories were great too, so much that you can spend hours reading and not realize the time has slipped away. 

The Girl Next Door by Jack Ketchum 

Most reviewers are calling this the creepiest, sickest, most disturbing book they’ve ever read. I’m not sure if that’s true for me, but it’s definitely up there, top-10 at least. It got off to a slow start, but after reading the reviews, I was confident it’d pick up, and it did once the terrors started. At that point, I couldn’t put it down. It pulled me along; I had to know what these monsters would do next. The psychology of it all is what really gets you. I guess some people think the environment they grow up in is what’s normal. This is partially true-crime, nothing metaphysical here, which makes it worse, knowing this can really happen. I finished it in two days. 

Up from Slavery by Booker T. Washington 

I listened to this on audiobook. What an amazing life this man had, rising up from oppression to his ultimate success. His gratitude was inspiring, reminding me to be thankful, and as with many of the books I’ve been reading lately, it showcases the joy of helping others. On the other hand, the rest of the 20th century didn’t turn out as well for civil rights as he’d probably hoped for. If you read this, I suggest you also read W.E.B. Du Bois, his contemporary who he praises in the book. I believe Washington represents a conservative approach while Du Bois is more progressive. Although the two men had their differences, I think they both made the world a better place. 

Off Season by Jack Ketchum 

Since reading The Girl Next Door, I’ve been chasing the experience of that book. Like TGND, Off Season spends a lot of time at the start of the book with character development before it gets into the gruesome stuff. In both cases, I think I’d have preferred if he’d just gone ahead and got started with it. But with TGND, once it got going, it was incredible. With Off Season, while still good writing and classic Ketchum, it was slightly less amazing. Still, Ketchum has carved out his own niche in the horror genre, and unlike most writers, I enjoy his epilogues as much as the main text. If you’re new to Ketchum, I suggest starting with TGND and then moving on to his other stuff. 

Milk Blood by Mark Matthews 

This is a bizarre mixture of realism and fantasy. It reminds of Slaughterhouse Five where I never knew if Tralfamadore was real or just imagination. Drugs can cause hallucinations and different realities, and I think heroin does so in this book, but what was really horrific was the realism. People get away with murder and kids start drugs at a young age, although many of us are sheltered from this harsh reality. Among the drugs being used in this story, Xanax plays a secondary but important role. It’s a drug that is not as notorious as it should be. When mixed with alcohol, or on its own, it can turn its user into a real Mr. Hyde. The author does an excellent job of portraying this change. 

Daring Greatly by Brene Brown 

My therapist asked me to read this. This was interesting and an easy/fun read, but I guess the reason it only gets 3 stars is because I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to implement it in my life. It did give us a reference point in our therapy sessions though. It talks a lot about how society can change for the better be allowing people to be vulnerable, but I don’t have much control over society other than what I contribute to it. There were also some things in there that I already kind of believed but had never heard articulated. Perhaps if I’d read this at a different time, I would have been able to use it more. I don’t know, maybe it’ll end up helping me more than I think. 

Freedom Evolves by Daniel Dennett 

This is the book that turned me into a major Dennett fanboy. Before this, I’d read Consciousness Explained, but felt frustrated because I didn’t feel like I understood consciousness any better after reading it. But this book is a whole other deal, leaving me feeling satisfied. I think Dennett has made a lot of progress on these difficult topics in his long career. Free will and consciousness are kind of intertwined mysteries, so when you talk about one, it’s common to bring up the other. The title of the book pretty much describes the content. Since I’m also a fan of Richard Dawkins, it’s nice that Dennett is friends with him and influenced by his work on evolution. The fact that it’s impossible for our human brains to fully understand billions of years of evolution cannot be overstated. This, I think, is what makes these topics so difficult. The way things are are not as they have always been. 

The Allowable Rhyme by H.P. Lovecraft 

I recently read Providence by Caroline Kepnes, and in the book, she explains that you should read H.P. Lovecraft’s essays and letters along with his fiction to have a better understanding of where he is coming from in his writing. I got a copy of Selections of Letters and Essays from Howard Phillips Lovecraft; The Allowable Rhyme was the second selection in the book. (This book was published by Odin Library Classics and cannot be found on Goodreads.) Another essay found in the book that works well as a companion piece is Metrical Regularity. I found these two essays to be quite interesting because they got me thinking critically about what little poetry I’m familiar with. Lovecraft’s assertion is that good poetry should have perfect meter and rhyme. In Metrical Regularity, he criticizes a “choppy” translation of the Aeneid; I personally found John Ciardi’s translation of Inferno difficult for the same reason. Immediately after reading these two essays, I read The Raven by Lovecraft’s idol, Edgar Allan Poe, and found that it met his requirements. Every meter has perfect regularity, and it uses actual rhyme rather than the “assonance” that he speaks ill of. These essays along with The Raven have piqued my interest in poetry and I will be checking out more poetry from the 18th and 19th century soon. 

Second Treatise of Government by John Locke 

I’ve been in the process of reading books from every time period in order to form my own type of structuralism; I’m now reading a lot of books from the 17th century, including Paradise Lost, a few from Shakespeare, and this one. I find it important to read old literature, even if it’s problematic, to understand how our society developed its way of thinking. This treatise is one of the most revelatory in that area. It’s full of the ideas that lead up to the American revolution, but there were some things the Founding Fathers deviated from. Unlike many of the Founders’ secularism, Locke’s philosophy is based on Christianity. Although I have a secular worldview, I was fascinated by his interpretation of the Bible. Many of the literature of his time is entrenched in religious dogma, but I feel Locke had a unique take. Part of the treatise explains how governments were formed up to that point; it’s a historical figure’s seemingly accurate view of history. When families grew larger, they formed patriarchal structures that later turned into monarchies; Locke argues that what worked well at the time may need to be improved or replaced.
There were some statements that pleasantly surprised me; here’s one of them:
“…a child is born a subject of no country or government. He is under his father’s tuition and authority, till he comes to age of discretion; and then he is a freeman, at liberty what government he will put himself under…”
It sounds like he’s against nationalism and for open borders. What do you think? 

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin  

“The only thing white people have that black people need, or should want, is power.” -James Baldwin

Although it was first published in ’63, this quote made me think of current events. In fact, I couldn’t help but think of current events the whole time I was reading the book. I feel tempted to go on some rant about right-wing politics, but I won’t. I’m sure you’ve already heard what I was going to say. This book is autobiographical and an interesting history lesson; it’s a great commentary on religion and the psychology of race-relations in the United States. Baldwin joined the Christian church at an early age as an alternative to the hustling lifestyle, but finally left because he found some aspects of it problematic. Much later in life he went to a dinner with Elijah Muhammad, the leader of the Nation of Islam, where he learned more about that movement. The experience he had with both religions gave him knowledge to write about both of their roles in U.S. race relations, and it gave me a new perspective on the topic. James Baldwin was one of most important authors of the civil-rights movement and has written many books, so I will definitely be checking more of them out. 

A Politics of Love by Marrianne Williamson 

“Can’t we all just get along?” -Rodney King

This is the first book I’ve read by a Presidential candidate, and perhaps she’s the wackiest of all the Democratic candidates this election cycle. I started reading it in Books-A-Million and didn’t know what to expect. I’m not sure why I picked this, probably because I’m always looking for different things. It was a lot better than what I thought it was going to be. According to Williamson, our society has made progress because we love and help one another; when we do things out of love rather than profit motive, things are better. She’s well versed in history and politics, as any Presidential candidate should be, and she uses historical, personal, and political examples of how love has helped our society and can help us in our current situation. So it’s a feel-good book. I mostly agree with her politically but can’t say I’m as tolerant as she is of people I disagree with. In fact, when reading in the book about horrible right-wing policies, I would sometimes get angry, even though it wasn’t her intention to cause anger. She’s a good author, but maybe not the best Presidential candidate. I’m still voting for Bernie. 

Dubliners by James Joyce 

For a long part of my reading journey, I mostly read genre fiction and other easy stuff like biographies. My first experience with literary stuff like this that just kind of leaves you hanging was with Hemingway’s short stories. They left me frustrated and I didn’t like them much. I thought the writer was supposed to do all the work and the reader shouldn’t have to come up with their own ending. But I now that I’ve opened my mind a little, I get excited about reading this kind of stuff, even though I have to Google an analysis of almost every story. Since it’s a collection of short stories, I stretched out this book over a couple years by reading them periodically, until I finally decided to put in the time and finish it all together a couple days ago. “The Dead” is hands-down my favorite story in the book. Here are some reviews I wrote for individual stories a couple years ago:

Araby
“In the particular is contained the universal.”

Great fiction is the embodiment of this quote. The first fiction authors I became obsessed with were horror authors like Stephen King and Clive Barker. What appealed to me was not the horror aspect of their writing. (Christine is one of my all-time favorite books, but I couldn’t care less about a self-driving car that kills people. I always thought the idea was corny.) It was that I could relate to the characters; that I could envision myself in their shoes. But all the relatable books I’ve read have been fairly recent, from the late 1970’s up. That’s before I discovered Dubliners, from 1914.

“Araby,” like Joyce’s other stories, is somewhat vague and requires you to use your imagination. You must put yourself inside the protagonist’s head, where he can’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality. Many readers can probably relate to wanting something so bad that you believe it’s true and it effects your actions, before you finally snap out of it.

Eveline
This is the first story in Dubliners to have a female protagonist and boy, does she have a rough life. I’m starting to see a trend in James Joyce’s writing; none of his stories ever have a happy ending. It’s usually a mix of circumstances, psychology, and bad decisions that keeps the characters from finding happiness. She had a lot of death in her family and her father was abusive. The story tells about her miserable family life and how she wants to escape. She starts dating a kind man who treats her well and can help her escape this misery. But her father was sometimes kind, and she had many good memories in her home. Also, her late mother had made her promise to never leave the family. The emotions of Joyce’s characters are always relatable. I believe that many people romanticize the past and emphasize the good times over the bad. Hind-sight is not always 20/20. She finally has a chance to move away with her boyfriend, but indecisiveness and conflicting emotions cause her to back out at the last minute. I finished the story thinking that she had made the wrong decision. 

Micromegas by Voltaire 

My Dad watches Ancient Aliens, and I guess he really believes in that stuff; I’ve had a few debates with him where I try to convince him that aliens probably never visited us. I recently went to see Richard Dawkins and Carolyn Porco give a talk, and one of the things they discussed was the likely-hood of aliens ever visiting Earth. Any life that exists in the universe is probably thousands or millions of light-years away, so it would take a long time for them to arrive here. And why would a life-form intelligent enough to travel here care anything about visiting us? They would probably think we were idiots, as Voltaire hints at in this story. In the story, two gigantic space-aliens visit Earth and have discussions with humans about philosophy; the humans tell them Aquinas believed the universe was made for mankind. The aliens laugh at this. They also tell them about all of mankind’s wars. The aliens are baffled and shocked by this, as any “intelligent” life-form would be.

Micromegas is one of the pioneering works of science-fiction and a great commentary on mankind’s folly. We tend to think we are important, but we are really quite insignificant in the grand scheme of things. 

Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals by Immanuel Kant 

**spoiler alert** If you’re a student of philosophy, it’s only a matter of time before you get around to reading Immanuel Kant. I had read a lot about him, including some harsh criticisms, so it was time for me to read his philosophy in his own words. Kant coined a lot of terms and you won’t understand his philosophy if you don’t know their meanings; reading these terms here in their original context will also help you understand post-Kantian philosophy. Although this is a short book, it was somewhat tedious, so I took breaks from it with a more animated book to make it less monotonous. He seems to reiterate his ideas more than he needs to before moving on to something else. However, in a weird way, this made it a page-turner because I was eager to find out how we can truly know what the categorical imperative is. This is an example of why people should never give a low rating without reading the whole book; it got better toward the end.

Spoiler: There’s no way of knowing what the categorical imperative is because our instinctual desires will always distort our sense of morality and duty. Our consciousness is a combination of two distinct worlds, the world of sensations and the world of moral duties. If we could separate these two worlds, we could see the categorical imperative clearly. But we can’t, so our sensations can sometimes trick us into believing what we are doing is right. We can never see the categorical imperative as “the thing in itself.” This book challenged some of my beliefs and hopefully it made me familiar with some of the ideas that will be discussed in the book I’m going to read next, Critique of Pure Reason. 

Letters from an Astrophysicist by Neil Degrasse Tyson 

This is the third book I’ve read by Tyson, and by far the best. He’s the king of fun facts. What makes this better than the other two is that it appeals in the same way his television persona originally appealed to me. He answers people’s questions and responds to their challenges in an articulate, and tactful yet direct, way. For a while, I’ve had the notion that letter writing might be one of the best forms of communication. There are obvious flaws in comment sections, which often seem like roast battles where nobody changes their mind or learns anything. And with debate formats, people have to come up with their responses on the spot. In letter writing, you have time to write and edit your responses to be as clear as possible. Tyson doesn’t care about winning arguments. He wants to educate. He seldom comes off as very opinionated. (He does, however, give his opinion on the importance of philosophy and Sam Cooke’s singing, when asked.) He mostly deals with objective facts. It’s puzzling to me that people sometimes find his facts to be controversial. Perhaps they think it’s because of how he states them, but it never seems mean-spirited to me, just truthful. This book made a strong defense against any charges of so-called “scientism.” 

Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace 

**spoiler alert** I was reading this at the same time I was reading The David Foster Wallace Reader, and finished the two around the same time also. Doing so further made me aware of Wallace’s ability to write in a variety of ways. This book has a reputation of being challenging, but to me, it wasn’t as difficult as its been made out to be. There were a lot of different scenarios at first, and it was like reading a lot of different, interesting, short-stories. Then, slowly, all these “stories” started to congeal. The best example of this would be uniting of the narratives of the tennis academy and the recovery meetings. The purpose of some literary works is to let the reader draw their own conclusions on the subject matter. My unique experience with this “literary” work was that the ideas naturally sprang from my mind, while with other authors I had to struggle.

Something I’ve often thought was cool that artists do is to introduce the title later on in the work. Bob Dylan does this with All Along the Watchtower. The song doesn’t have a chorus, and he only says “all along the watchtower” once, in the last verse. In Great Expectations, Dickens doesn’t use the phrase “great expectations” until about 100 pages in, but after that he uses it repeatedly. In Infinite Jest, the words “Infinite Jest” are introduced about 800 pages in, and they are only used once, if I’m not mistaken. Correct me if I’m wrong. 

The Grownup by Gillian Flynn 

It’s been a little while since I read some awesome, page-turner, genre-fiction like this, and I needed it. I was browsing the books in the library when I saw how short this was, so I just sat in there and read it in one sitting. It took me about an hour and a half. It had a lot of plot twists and I liked how she described how certain types of people typically act. It’s always interesting when people don’t fit their stereotype. The protagonist does psychic work for a living, but she doesn’t really believe in any of it. I don’t believe in astrology and it annoys me that people do, so it was cool to hear her take on how they plan out what they’re going to say, tricking their clients. It made me think of “the basement of the Alamo” in Peewee’s Big Adventure. This was my first time reading Flynn so I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but I had some ideas. Because of the talk of psychic powers and haunted houses, I was expecting some type supernatural occurrence that shattered the fake-psychic’s disbelief. The stepson is the plot’s architect and is so cunning that he fools the protagonist, and myself, into believing these things are really happening. Nothing supernatural ended up happening, so it’s always cool to be surprised! 

The Plague by Albert Camus 

**spoiler alert** I started reading this about a year ago and put it down when I had about 60 pages left to read. I just wasn’t feeling it at the time. But when corona hit, and since I had so little left to read, I felt an obligation to go ahead and finish. I’m glad I did. Page 228, Part IV, when Tarrou tells Rieux about his relationship with his father, and how that shaped his views on death, is one of the most powerful pieces of writing I’ve read, reminiscent of The Wall by Sartre. Looking at the notes I took when I read this last year, I see some things parallel and others do not, with our current situation. The book describes how people don’t always comprehend how things can change, and I think we can see that now. Many people, myself included, underestimated the impact of corona. In the book, when the people realize their dire situation, they come together in solidarity to fight the virus. I don’t think that’s how it’s going down currently, at least in the U.S., however. Since I slowed down while reading the ending and made sure I retained everything, I was better able to appreciate Camus’s insights. The very last part was great because it leaves future events open in the reader’s mind. The plague was not completely destroyed, only put into remission, so there’s a good chance it will return to wreak havoc in the distant future. 

The Most Dangerous Game by Richard Connell 

I guess this was supposed to scare me, but it didn’t. It’s quite a compelling read and a page-turner, although predictable. The villain in the story, General Zaroff, had gotten bored of hunting big-game and decided to try out the more challenging sport of hunting humans. It just didn’t seem like a novel concept; this could be because the book was written back in 1924 and the idea has been recycled a lot since then. I know I’ve seen something like that on television. But I’m sure the idea was fresh back in the day.

When our protagonist, Rainsford, meets Zaroff, they start into a long conversation about hunting, a topic that interests both men. You can feel the tension building when Rainsford slowly realizes that Zaroff hunts humans. I anticipated that what he hunted was humans but was hoping he hunted some mythical creature even more ferocious than a lion or tiger, like King Kong. I don’t care what Zaroff says; hunting King Kong would be more fun and challenging than hunting a human. I won’t spoil the ending, but you can probably guess what happens. I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much because it was entertaining and only cost 49 cents on Kindle. 

Consider This by Chuck Palahniuk 

I’ve been an avid reader for several years, and the amount that I read has only increased since I’ve been on goodreads, so, just like with music when I was younger, the fact that I consumed the art gave me desire to create it. So, I started writing book reviews on here. I had a desire to be a writer, and I was doing what writers do. They write. Then I started writing short essays. I noticed that my writing was sloppy, that nobody would probably want to read that. I created a discipline of writing at least 2 hours per week. I wanted to create a longer read, so I finally broke down and started writing fiction. That’s where this book comes in handy. It showed me what was wrong with my fiction, which was pretty much everything, sadly. As he’s telling me everything that’s wrong with the writing in my story, I’m thinking “but I already wrote it!” However, I’ve been using the advice in this book since I read it, and it’s helping. I purchased the audio book on Audible, and need to get a hard copy, because there’s so much stuff to make note of. I started the book over as soon as I finished because there were so many things I didn’t retain that I want to apply. I’ve read a lot of Palahniuk’s books, so an extra bonus was getting advice from an author I’m a fan of. 

The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx 

Whether it’s Kant, Leibniz, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, or Karl Marx, you can’t go wrong with German philosophy. The Communist Manifesto is an attack on the bourgeoisie and a call for revolution. Marx explains that although society has historically had feudal class systems within nations, the industrial revolution caused the rise of a bourgeoisie class that permeated borders and nations, replacing the old class systems. The proletariat is the working class that provides capital for the bourgeoisie; it remains poor while the bourgeoisie get richer with the accumulation of capital. This causes frustration with the laborers, but all they can do is compete with other members of their own class. Marx promises the Communist Party will help them overthrow the ruling class. I thought this book was well written, interesting, and a great history lesson. The idea that greed, money, and property rights shouldn’t be held in higher regard than human rights is spot on, and I can totally relate. I’m not really materialistic about anything besides books. Although I agree with the sentiment that pure, unregulated capitalism creates inequality, Marx’s philosophy of Communism has been disastrous in many situations. I think the best types of economies are based on a mixture of capitalism and socialism. 

Discourse on Method and Meditations on First Philosophy by Rene Descartes 

I read Meditations on First Philosophy before Discourse on Method and liked it better. Discourse was a harder read and some parts of it were boring. I give Meditations 4 stars and Discourse 2 stars, so that averages out to 3 stars. I started out listening to Dedication on audio book. It’s a letter he wrote to the Pope trying to prove that he wasn’t an atheist. He was a contemporary of Galileo, who was in hot water at the time for his astronomical heresies. It’s funny because the letter doesn’t seem sincere at all. But I guess the Pope bought it. Later on Descartes abandoned some of his writings in fear of getting in trouble with the church. I switched to paperback after Dedication because the prose is hard to follow on audio book. Meditation One is where he starts to doubt everything. I like the idea of him sitting next to the fire in his dressing gown meditating on this stuff. It’s just a cool, peaceful picture in my mind. Mediation Two is where he makes the famous statement “I think, therefore I am.” It occurred to me that Socrates knew nothing, but centuries later Descartes decided that he could at least know that he existed. The Third Meditation has some interesting theories trying to prove the existence of God. His argument that you can’t have infinite regress is pretty sound. According to Descartes, the universe could not exist without some type of God to set it in motion. This sounds like some form of Deism to me. I had been pondering these types of things myself. That is what initially attracted me to this book. Descartes is considered to be one of the first scientists, but we know a lot more about it than he did at the time. He even acknowledged that there was much more to be revealed, and science has probably refuted a lot of his claims. I won’t discuss meditations four through six here, but they are just as interesting as one through three.

Discourse on Method seems like a book prepping the reader for Meditations. This is unfortunate since I read Meditations first. In a way it’s good though because I might not have made it through if I didn’t know that Meditations was better. He talks about how he traveled all over Europe seeing sights and meeting new people. Sounds fun! His theory about animals being automations and not having any real feelings is interesting but disturbing. Darwin’s theory of evolution pretty much blows that idea out of the water. We are not nearly as separate from or different than animals as Descartes claimed. The part where he talks about how the heart pumps blood almost bored me to tears. I didn’t know if I was going to make it through that part. Then we get to the part where he calls out his critics. I really liked the writing here because he’s basically saying that they are not real philosophers like he is and he’s putting them in their place. In the end, he just wants everyone to leave him alone so he can chill out and write Meditations. I was just glad to be done with this so that I could put it up and move on to something else. 

Race Matters by Cornel West 

I heard Dr. West speak at a Bernie Sanders rally in Birmingham, AL, in 2016. I’ve also watched him a lot on TV and YouTube. His passion and message of love warms my heart, and I enjoy hearing him speak, so I was delighted to find out the book was read by the author. I listened to the 25th anniversary edition, which had a section talking about how this book relates to current events. The subjects in this book are as relevant today as they were when it was released. Perhaps more people are talking about what’s in this book now than they were back then. I don’t know; I was in high school then and probably wouldn’t have been reading a book like this, although I was somewhat interested in civil-rights history. A cool thing about this book is that he references two (5-star by me) books he taught classes on, Plato’s Republic and The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois. I got more out of it because I was familiar with them, and some of the other public figures he referenced. He loves to list off names of people who inspire him. Still, I’d rather just pull up a YouTube video of one of his speeches or interviews and play that in the car than listen to this audio book in the car. After I finished it, I started over at the beginning and listened for about an hour to see if I could get more out of it the second time around. I couldn’t. 

Can’t Hurt Me by David Goggins 

I’d watched Goggins on a podcast and seen some of his videos where he’s running and talking to the camera. I’d also seen a video where he’s leading a group workout that seemed super-intense (I didn’t follow along.) So this sounded like a book that would be inspiring for the “no excuses” attitude, and it was. I listened to this on Audible and it works well for audio book. It was easy to follow along and retain everything. He says in the book that this isn’t about him, it’s about me (the reader). At the very least, reading this should make it harder for somebody to be whiney and make excuses for why they can’t succeed, especially with, but not limited to, their fitness goals. I’ve been working out on-and-off for several years, and recently gotten into running and working with a pull-up bar, two of Goggins’s specialties. I ran my first 10k and will soon be attempting a half-marathon, thanks in-part to the inspiration from Goggins. A new philosophy I have from this is that running, weight-training, and other fitness activities have as much to do with being hardcore in the moment as they do with the end result you’re working toward. When I do wall-sits, for instance, it’s less about getting big legs than it is about embracing the discomfort. Or callousing the mind, as Goggins puts it. 

The Invention of Sound by Chuck Palahniuk 

This is classic Palahniuk. I love it. I think some critics of his newer stuff like this would call him a one-trick pony, and I get that, but feel he’s just doing what he does best. Most of his books have quite a bit of shock value, and I would probably have been disappointed if this one didn’t. He’s carved out a niche for himself, and there’s plenty of room for different ideas inside that niche. The concept of the book is original and bizarre. Since I’m a musician and somewhat of a microphone snob, the narrative of sound technology in horror was that much cooler to me. 

Dare Me by Megan Abbott 

I’m a huge fan of Gillian Flynn, and I was looking for books that were like, or as good as, her novels. I did a Google search for “books like Gillian Flynn” and this came up:
https://www.bookbub.com/blog/new-book…
That’s a list of books recommended by her. I’d had success with books recommended by Stephen King, so I thought, “cool!” Dare Me is on the list, so I started with that. It’s a murder mystery, with an edgy interpretation of small-town life, similar to what Flynn writes, just not quite on her level. It’s my first (and possibly last) book about cheerleaders. I’m ignorant about a lot of things that I don’t care about; I’ve never been into sports, and I know most people don’t take cheerleading seriously, but it can be challenging and dangerous. Still, I’d probably rather read about it than watch it. Something I’m coming to realize with books like this: A lot of the time, the “mystery” aspect of a book can get boring to me. It kept going through my head that so-and-so could be the killer, or maybe it’s somebody else, but I really didn’t care that much. I just impatiently waited for the author’s revelation. I started another book on Flynn’s list, Pretty Girls, which is the same kind of way. Not sure if I can finish that one. Turns out Flynn writes better books than she reads. 

The Wall and Other Stories by Jean-Paul Sartre 

“The Wall” was the best story in the book, as well as one of the best short-stories I’ve ever read. It would be great introduction to the philosophy of existentialism; it even put me in somewhat of an existential crisis. Everybody intellectually knows that we are going to die, but when I was younger, I had an illusion of living forever, or at least living longer than I actually would. As I grew older, the reality of death slowly dawned on me. The characters in “The Wall” struggle with the fact that they will be executed in a matter of hours. That really puts things in perspective!

The next three stories, “The Room,” “Erostratus,” and “Intimacy” were okay, but not Sartre’s best. (Sartre’s best is a high standard.)

“The Childhood of a Leader” dealt with the phases the protagonist went through before he discovered his life’s purpose as an evil dictator. I thought it paralleled with how some people today make the transition from Libertarian to Alt-Right. They start out with some decent ideas, move to pseudo-intellectualism, then arrive at their final destination. 

Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel 

I came to this through Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, but I enjoyed this better. Both books have the same kind of concept, which is learning or having a skill without intellectualizing it. So your craft should be a lot like breathing, and eventually you’ll be as good at it as you are at breathing. In this case, you become one with the target. This book was just a lot easier than Motorcycle Maintenance. Like other German takes on Eastern philosophy, such as Hesse, it was very soothing. I sat out on my patio and read it while experiencing inner peace. I’m a mess, and not very Zen at all, but while reading this, I caught a tiny glimpse of it.

I practice meditation daily, but this book reminded me how devoted you have to be to achieve enlightenment. I’m nowhere near it. The student practiced for years with much frustration before he became one with his craft. An unexpected tear-jerking moment in the book was when the student had to part ways with the teacher; they had a special bond.

I did have a moment of jealousy while reading this, wishing I could go practice Zen in Japan for five years. Instead, I have to grind away in this factory in Tennessee. Oh well. 

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn 

“Finally, much love and appreciation to my massive Missouri family-who I’m happy to say were absolutely no inspiration for the characters in the book.” -Acknowledgements, Sharp Objects
Ha! Thank God they’re not. This was my third comfort-read during quarantine, and the best one so far. Flynn is an author I can sit and read for hours, and her books have made the days pass by quickly. There are so many cool things about this book, one being that, like Gone Girl, most of it takes place in Missouri, a place I’ve driven through a few times and is similar to my home state of Tennessee in a lot of ways. Flynn clearly understands small-town life. Everybody knows everybody else, and a lot of people do drugs because there’s nothing else to do. Technically, you could call this a murder mystery, and it didn’t bother me that I guessed who one of the killers was early on because what really made this book interesting was the adventures and misbehaviors of the protagonist. I’ve recently been judging how authors can project their own virtues and opinions into their characters, but I think Flynn does a good job of steering clear of this. All the characters in this book are pretty messed up. This book put me in a trance for a while, which rarely happens. 

Lullabies for Suffering 

This is not actually written by Caroline Kepnes. She only wrote one story in the collection. It would be more accurate to give Mark Matthews writing credit, since he arranged it and wrote one of the stories. That being said, Kepnes is the reason I got the book; she has a good track record with me, and now I’ve read everything I know of by her. Her story was great, and so were the others. Heroin is a great theme for horror. Creepy and disturbing. 

Oedipus Rex by Sophocles 

“Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” -Proverbs 16:18

Two of the authors I’ve been recently reading, Aristotle and Sigmund Freud, have mentioned this Greek tragedy, so I felt it was important to use as a reference. Aristotle claimed in Poetics that this was one of the greatest achievements in tragedy, and I agree that it’s quite good. It certainly accomplishes what I think a tragedy is supposed to do by evoking an emotion of devastation in the reader. (I’m sure it would create the same if not more emotion for an audience in the form of a play.) How would it feel for someone to rise so high only to sink so low? Only a few people have known what this is like, and Oedipus Rex was one of them. It’s dramatic how he argues with and threatens the people who reluctantly tell him what really happened, until it dawns on him that they are telling the truth. The only gripe I have is that Sir George Young’s 1906 translation was difficult to understand so I didn’t feel like I retained everything in the play. I referenced Wikipedia’s synopsis for a better understanding. There are several different translations, so perhaps a more recent one would be an easier read. 

No Encore for the Donkey by Doug Stanhope 

Anybody who knows anything about Stanhope knows that he’s a straight-shooter, but this book shows a more vulnerable side of Stanhope that I like. I got it a couple days after it was released, and it wasn’t available on Kindle yet so I got it on audible. (His other books are pretty cheap on Kindle if you wanna check ’em out.) The first half of the book that talks about how things in his life started going downhill was pretty good, and I could relate. The last part about his girlfriend’s coma got kind of boring to me. There’s a song at the end of the audiobook that’s cool, but I think this song by the Smiths would be a great for a soundtrack if the book:
https://youtu.be/3GhoWZ5qTwI 

Anthem by Ayn Rand 

I’ve heard Rand’s name dropped so many times that I felt an obligation to read something by her, just in case I was ever going to debate one of her fans. She seems like someone you either love or hate, and with my politics, I should fall into the latter, but I didn’t hate this book. It was quite entertaining. A classic dystopian novel that reminded me of 1984, and almost as good. So, while I disagree with the philosophy here (perhaps some straw manning going on), I did enjoy the story. Not sure if I’m ready to commit to The Fountainhead or Atlas Shrugged quite yet, but I imagine I’d enjoy them as well. 

Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse 

If you’ve read many of my reviews, you know I’m a big fan of German philosophy and German writing in general. I believe Schopenhauer was the first Western philosopher who was influenced by Eastern thought, and I certainly appreciate his take on it in The World as Will and Representation. Hermann Hesse was also a German writer influenced by Eastern thought, but Siddhartha deals with Buddhism and its influence on real-life situations, unlike the pure metaphysics of Schopenhauer.

This book hit me hard; It’s a real tear-jerker. Hesse uses simple and beautiful language to describe relatable characters and the ups-and-downs in Siddhartha’s life. It’s one of the few books I’ve read that could evoke such emotion without complex character development. I believe many books try to express the same thing in Eastern philosophy because none can do it perfectly. This book is special in its demonstration of how real-life experience helps one gain wisdom. 

Adjustment Day by Chuck Palahniuk 

“So the last shall be first and the first last.” -Matthew 20:16

This is the quote that I obviously thought was most appropriate, because the hated leaders get killed off, leaving the losers in society to become powerful in this unique dystopian novel. It certainly made me think of George Orwell, but I wouldn’t dare call it derivative. The book appealed to me because I am a fan of Chuck Palahniuk and was especially interested in how he would reference current events. The book certainly had a unique take on them. He has a great imagination that never ceases to surprise me, which is refreshing because some of the contemporary page-turner novels I’ve been reading, while good, are not nearly as original as this.

Palahniuk truly has his own recognizable style of writing. I feel like I could tell it was him just by reading it, the same way you recognize somebody’s voice on the phone or how guitarists like Tom Morello stand out because of their unique sound. Part of this is because of his sarcasm and the shock-value of many things he writes. Another reason may be his vocabulary and punctuation. Yet another is the funny names he comes up with. The countries in the book were called “Gaysia,” “Blacktopia,” and “Caucasia.” This book didn’t have any chapters, which took some getting used to, but I ended up enjoying that aspect of it too; just another one of the author’s perks. I had not read any of his books in a while, so it was like visiting an old friend.

The plot goes like this: The young men of the United States have been reading a revolutionary book sort-of like Mein Kampf or Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-tung. They end up overthrowing the current government and reinstating a new form of government. In the new form of government, only blacks can live in the South, whites in the North, and gays out West, just like their revolutionary book says. These groups are supposed to revert to the cultures they had before integration. It’s hard to sensibly describe this book in a synopsis, so you should just read it to find out what it’s all about. I won’t spoil the ending for you here, but I’ll just let you know that it’s good. Go out and get the book! 

Enlightenment Now by Steven Pinker 

I had never read anything by Steven Pinker, and he appealed to me because of my newfound interest in psychology. He’s a well-known psychologist, so I thought I’d check this out. However, this book has more to do with society’s progress than the psychology and neuroscience that I am so fascinated by. I think that most left-leaning people like myself tend to be apathetic because of climate change, Trump, nuclear weapons, and many other current issues. This book is all about showing that things are actually getting better. The charts in it were interesting and helped me to realize how much people had to struggle in the past, how much better off people are now, and that the future may not be as grim as it seems. One of the things that I found the most fascinating was how slow progress had been up until recent history. The industrial revolution really changed things, and now progress is being made exponentially. I know that a lot of people have been critical of the book, saying that the charts are misleading. I have yet to investigate all of the criticisms of the book, so I remain skeptical. It got a little boring towards the end. Not much of a page-turner, but it did leave me enlightened. 

Providence by Caroline Kepnes 

I was first introduced to Caroline Kepnes’s writings by an online article titled “11 Books That Scared The Master of Horror, Stephen King, And Will Terrify You, Too.” I’d read a lot by King, so I thought we’d have the same taste in books, and it turned out to be true. YOU, by Kepnes, was on that list, along with The Girl On The Train by Paula Hawkins, and Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty. All three were great, but YOU was the best. I’ve been a fan of Kepnes ever since, so I was anticipating this book. And I was not disappointed.

It’s a crime novel with a first-person narrative from three different points of view. All three characters are easy to relate to and care about. It’s also an easy read and a page-turner. The protagonist gains powers that cause people around him to die of heart attacks. The detective in the novel is trying to solve these mysteries. Since I’m such a huge fan of H.P. Lovecraft, I was pleased to find out that much of the plot was based on his fiction, including the title, “Providence.” Providence was Lovecraft’s hometown and many of the events in this novel take place there.

There’s so much that makes this book special. I’ve read many crime novels, and I usually find the crimes themselves to be interesting, but the detective work is sometimes boring to read about. Not the case with this one. Kepnes does an excellent job in portraying the detective’s rocky relationship with his wife, as well as his struggle to solve the mystery. I found myself rooting for his success. Even the acknowledgements section of this book is great! I believe that Joe Hill and Caroline Kepnes are the two greatest fiction writers of our time. 

Lou Reed: A Life by Anthony DeCurtis 

I’m a pretty big fan of Reed, and I’ve never read a biography that I didn’t like, so I knew I’d be able to get through this one. It starts out talking about his childhood and college. Then it goes into the Velvet Underground years. I like everything that I’ve heard by the Velvets. I’ve listened to all of their studio albums, so it was interesting to read about the drama in the band and the true meanings of a lot of the songs. Then it went into his studio albums. A lot of this was really good, but I had to trudge through some of it because all of those albums were not that amazing. My favorite Reed solo albums are Transformer, Berlin, Rock and Roll Animal, and New York. It was interesting to read about his drug abuse and how he kept on switching out band members because he couldn’t get along with anybody. 2 guys from Yes played on his first solo album! The book got me listening to stuff by him that I had never heard. He was a real asshole most of his life but mellowed out as he got older. It made me sad at the end when he died. Good book. 

The Will to Power, Vols 1-2 by Friedrich Nietzsche 

Ever since I read Nietzsche for the first time in “On Truth and Untruth: Selected Writings,” a short book translated by Taylor Carman, I’d been unsuccessfully searching for a longer read that elaborated on the ideas covered there with the same frequency of mind-blowing moments. This is the closest I’ve come to rekindling the fascination I had then. The start of the book is a critique of religion, especially Christianity. Having read Kaufmann’s translation of “The Antichrist,” I was familiar with these ideas, and at first, I enjoyed revisiting them and jogging my memory, but it seemed to drag on with the religion bashing for too long. It really got good after that first section though. Since I’d read Schopenhauer’s “The World as Will and Representation,” I was familiar with what seems to be the main influence for this book, so perhaps that helped my understanding. He covers his concept of the “will to power” from many angles, including metaphysical, personal, and political, with each one shedding a new light. What a great intelligence and imagination it took to become the great contrarian he was! I didn’t agree with the critique of Darwin, but am reluctant in that stance because I don’t see Nietzsche as one to allow holes in his philosophy; sometimes the nuance may be beyond my comprehension. Although this review comes off as critical, the few lacking parts don’t detract from the invaluable and comprehensive material in the majority of the text. I prefer Ludovici over Kaufmann as a translator and feel this book deserves a strong and solid 5 stars. 

Cats and Dogs by H.P. Lovecraft 

This is the most pretentious thing I’ve ever read, and I love it. It should be essential reading for cat-lovers. But dog-lovers need to have some thick skin, or they might get triggered! I just thought it was hilarious; It made my day. I’m going to tell all my cat-owning friends to read this gem of an essay. I’m so glad that I decided to check out H.P. Lovecraft’s non-fiction because it’s vastly different from his fiction. It gives you a perspective into what kind of brain it takes to come up with those bizarre stories.

As I hinted at earlier, Lovecraft prefers cats over dogs. I knew he was a cat-lover before reading this but had no idea he was this passionate about it. He has a pious view of the virtues of cats and cat-owners while making a mockery of dogs and dog owners. I’m not sure Lovecraft’s intention was to be funny, so you could say I was laughing at him. He may not have been completely self-aware while writing this. He has an impressive vocabulary and uses a lot of big words (as he always does) to convince the reader that cats are better than dogs. But, you know, I still like dogs. 

The Sisters by James Joyce 

The cool thing about short-story collections is that it gives the reader a chance to check out an author without having to make a big commitment. Also, it can help you decide if you want to read any of the author’s full-length novels. When I read 20th Century Ghosts, a collection of short-stories by Joe Hill, I loved it so much that I knew I was going to have to read all of his novels. However, after I read some of Ernest Hemingway’s short stories, I decided that his full-length novels were probably not going to appeal to me. The latter is probably going to be the case with James Joyce.

I started reading “The Sisters” with an understanding that Joyce, like Hemingway, makes you read between the lines. I read the text slowly and tried to use my imagination as much as possible. I came to the conclusion that the priest in the story may have been abusive. Some of the analyses that I read online came to that same conclusion. Joyce’s language is easy to understand and paints vivid pictures in your mind. I am now a fan. I will be enjoying more of James Joyce, but only in small doses. 

A Chinese sage by Oscar Wilde 

“A Chinese Sage” is a scathing review of Chuang Tzu’s philosophy, written by Oscar Wilde. I read this review immediately after reading Chuang Tzu, so his parables and dialogues were fresh on my mind. Wilde’s take on his philosophy is quite interesting, and it gave me a perspective that is somewhat different from what I originally had. I viewed him as just a peaceful man, but Wilde made him out to be a monster. He gives a lengthy and accurate synopsis before he starts his critique, which explains why Chuang Tzu’s philosophy against “acknowledgement of virtue” could be dangerous if applied to the politics of Wilde’s time. He believes that although some people might find it useful to read, they should not talk about it. While I was reading Chuang Tzu, I never thought about it having a negative effect on society. Since Wilde’s review was written over a hundred years ago, it may have had a different effect back then, but I don’t think these ideas are harmful in our society today. I think most people who read it never try to push it on anybody, but as Wilde points out, some of the text does refer to public policy. If you’re looking for a “philosopher” who may have had a negative effect on today’s society, then try Ayn Rand. 

A Predicament by Edgar Allan Poe 

After reading A Predicament, I felt like I needed more information to write a good review. I read some of the Goodreads reviews, looked up the Wikipedia article on the story, and visited the story again, this time on audiobook. It turns out that I failed to retain a lot of what the story contained. I had previously read How To Write A Blackwood Article, but didn’t realize A Predicament was its sequel. I still can’t make any real connections between the two other than they are both bizarre and absurd in a dark comedic way. Perhaps Blackwood explains why A Predicament is written the way it is.

I did find that visiting the story the second time was more enjoyable than the first. This was because I had a better understanding of what was going on. I even had a little chuckle this time when Pompey refused to save Zenobia because of her name-calling. The fact that Zenobia remains conscious after being decapitated stays true to Poe’s bizarre narrative. Her eyeballs popping out and decapitation are some of the gory details Poe is known for. However, my experience has been that his more well-known stories are generally better and that his “deep-cuts” are not always as great. 

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare 

Oh wow, this can be really low brow at times. And what a pervert Mercutio is. He reminds me of a lot of the dude-bros I know, always cutting up about the same kinds of things he did. Too bad he got killed early on, or the humor could’ve lasted longer; it got more serious after his death. Typical of Shakespeare’s plays, there’s a lot of bloodshed, and at least with the No Fear version, they seem to take it lightly; I guess maybe life was cheap back then. Another thing that seemed strange to me was how quickly Romeo and Juliet fell in love. They didn’t have time to even have a short conversation to see if they hit it off. The definition of love-at-first-sight. (Maybe they were just “in lust” instead of “in love.” That’s probably what their families thought.) The real hero, or at least my hero, in the story, is Friar Lawrence. He acts selflessly in helping the couple, even though his plan doesn’t work out in the end. You can see why this play is such a timeless classic, the quintessential love story. It makes you feel like, although their relationship was short-lived, when Romeo and Juliet were together, they were the happiest people in the history of the world. Really makes you think about living in the moment, because time slips away quickly. 

Anarchism and Other Essays by Emma Goldman 

Anarchism and Other Essays made me aware of what I think are some common misconceptions about anarchism. Most people probably just associate punk rock with anarchism, but it was and is a legitimate political movement. They also probably think of it as being like a state of nature, but this book focused on progressivism over traditionalism, while hopefully some type of order could be maintained. I agreed with most of Emma Goldman’s political opinions and found what she said to be interesting in its historical context. Her views on the Catholic church and women’s suffrage were especially noteworthy. She had disdain for all religion, especially Catholicism, but there was no mention of sex abuse because few people knew about it. She was part of the first-wave of feminism, but cared little for women’s suffrage, thinking it wouldn’t do much to bring about equality. This was interesting considering how central that issue was to the movement. Part of the book covers the struggles of her anarchist contemporaries, which I found irrelevant. I’ve been told that her memoir, Living My Life, gives a better description of the political activism of Goldman and her contemporaries. 

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens 

“Bah! Humbug!” -Ebenezer Scrooge

Just as I read books for Halloween season, this year I read material appropriate for Christmas. It was my first time reading Charles Dickens, and now I know what all the fuss is about. What makes him such a great author is how well he portrays the emotions of the protagonist, Scrooge, and his final change of heart. Scrooge’s heart had been hardened by his own greed, so that he had become a recluse who cared little for his family and showed no sympathy towards others less fortunate, even during a time such as Christmas. Yet he was unaware of how his greed had caused his own misery, despite how much wealth he acquired. That’s when the ghosts come into the picture, showing him the error of his ways. For me, the ghosts are a metaphor for his own consciousness, and how people like his nephew reaching out to him made him aware of his folly. The plot thickens as you go along, with the last of the three ghosts being the pinnacle of the story. The last chapter is a great release where he has his change of heart; he goes around the town making amends and spreading good cheer. 

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens 

I’ve started a tradition of reading Dickens every December, and I started reading this on Dec. 1 of last year. The fact that I’m just now finishing it goes to show what a hard time I had with it. I would read some of it, take a break and read something else, then come back to it. I do that often, but I did it even more with this book. I thought the first part of it was pretty funny, with all the drama that happened with Pip and others before he came across his fortune. Another thing I appreciated was how Dickens didn’t even use the term “Great Expectations” until at least 100 pages in; that gave it a cool dynamic. But in the middle part of the book, I started to feel bored and lost: too many characters that I never really became familiar with and had to Google to understand their roles, and the language became harder to understand at this point. A redeeming quality here was that there were places in London mentioned that I had visited, so I had a first-hand visual picture. He wraps the story up quite nicely; it just takes too long. I like delayed gratification, but this is a little too delayed for my liking. The best, saddest, tug-at-the-heartstrings, parts of the book are about Pip’s relationship and absence from Joe. Poor Joe! One could arguably say it was a happy ending because of Pip’s reconciliation with Joe. 

Common Sense by Thomas Paine 

Common Sense is a short pamphlet by Thomas Paine that gives you a first-hand perspective of the American Revolution. The book starts with Paine’s theory of how small tribes historically turn into larger governments. The members of the tribe usually have each other’s best interest at heart, but corruption occurs when they grow larger and have to appoint more authority figures. Then he goes into his scathing attack on King George III and monarchy in general. This is where the book earns its title. “Common Sense” tells us heredity shouldn’t place somebody in a position to reign over others. It’s just ridiculous. A large portion of the book tries to convince the reader that it’s better to achieve independence than to remain Britain’s subjects, and that now is the time to separate. There’s a real sense of urgency that drew me into that time period and made me contemplate what life would be like today if things hadn’t gone as planned. I generally don’t understand why so many people fetishize the Founding Fathers, but I appreciate Paine’s contribution to the Revolution. In addition to his writings, Paine’s life and his fall from grace are also fascinating topics to read about. 

Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass 

This book narrates the life of Frederick Douglass and his quest for freedom. It starts out telling of his life as a child and how he was separated from his mother. He knew nothing about his family history or even how old he was. Then it goes on to tell many of the other hardships that he was forced to go through. The Atlantic slave trade was one of the cruelest institutions in history. Separating families, torture, starvation, and mind-control were all an integral part of it. This book documents it thoroughly.

Despite the obstacles, he rose above it all. He taught himself to read and even wrote one of the most important books in history. This is particularly impressive because it was basically illegal for a slave to read. The last thing they wanted was for a slave to become educated and have a deeper understanding of what was really going on. After educating himself and a few failed attempts at escape, he finally made it up North where he was free from slavery forever. Finally, there’s a poem that mocks the hypocrisy of the “Christian” slave-owners. This book will make you angry. I highly recommend it. 

Othello by William Shakespeare 

One novelty of this play is that it’s about an interracial relationship. Interracial marriage wasn’t made completely legal in the United States until 1967, so this means Shakespeare was more progressive in the 16th/17th centuries than America was in the mid/late 20th century. Pathetic. Othello, of African descent and from a Muslim culture, is the protagonist. He’s a war hero held in high regard by most, but Iago, for some reason, can’t stand him. The play doesn’t explicitly give Iago’s reason for hating Othello, but you can use your imagination. In my life, I’ve noticed how prejudiced people tend to treat outsiders. They can’t reveal the real reason they dislike them, so they’re sneaky about it. They criticize them for things they would never criticize one of their own for and hold them to unreasonably high standards that they themselves could never live up to. But I digress.

This is my third Shakespeare play, and I’m noticing a common theme. There’s usually some psychology, with the protagonist misinterpreting reality, either because of the villain’s manipulation, or because of their own depression. Iago is a master manipulator. His fake humility makes him the most detestable Shakespeare villains I’ve encountered so far, but, as could be expected, he got his just deserts in the end. They implemented torture techniques on poor Iago, eluding the former progressivism. No Fear Shakespeare is always entertaining and an easy read, but I don’t think this one is as classic as Hamlet and Macbeth. 

Napalm and Silly Putty by George Carlin 

I was a little disappointed with George Carlin’s first book, Brain Droppings, but Napalm & Silly Putty was a lot better. I felt like most of the material in Brain Droppings was petty and not that funny, and I was looking for that subversive commentary on society that Carlin’s stand-up comedy was so famous for. Brain Droppings was first published in 1997, and I feel like this might have been a low-point in his career, when the material he was putting out was just not that amazing. But Carlin got more angry and bitter as he got older, and it showed in his work. Napalm & Silly Putty came out at the start of 2001, four years after Brain Droppings, and it’s a good example of this trend. The book starts off with some petty stuff kind of like most of the material in Brain Droppings, but later it gets into the political commentary I was craving. The title really says it all. Life is brutal like napalm, but Carlin’s philosophy was to sit back and laugh at all the idiots the same way you do with silly putty. We’re all going to die, and the human race will go extinct because of war or climate change. There’s no reason to be optimistic, but you have to laugh. I wonder what Carlin would have to say about current events. It probably turned out just as he thought it would. 

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson 

Check out the book-cover! It’s one of the coolest ones I’ve seen. That’s Merricat and Constance in front, with Jonas the cat. They’re the recluses who “have always lived in the castle.” They used to have a larger family, before everyone was poisoned. Now, they and Uncle Julian are the only ones who remain. They never leave, except when Merricat has to go grocery shopping. When she goes, all the townspeople stare and mock her; she thinks about how she hates them and wants them all dead. Because of alleged murders by poisoning, few people ever visit them, and when they do, they don’t want to come back. When part of the “castle” burns down and Uncle Julian dies, many of the townspeople seem to take pleasure in their tragedies. The girls choose not to attend Julian’s funeral and remain secluded in the part of their home that was untouched by the fire. Shirley Jackson’s writing style is unique in its mixture of wholesomeness and creepiness. The psychology behind Merricat’s character is that she’s had a sheltered life, but has so much hate in her heart. Constance is always cooking, and the book goes into detail about how wonderful the food is, even though it might be poisoned. Don’t take too much sugar with your coffee. There might be arsenic in it!   

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance 

Maybe I should reread it to fully understand it. This book is about a man who goes on a motorcycle road-trip with his son, from Minnesota to California. There are two people riding with them for the first part of the trip, then they leave. Basically he’s thinking about philosophy the whole time and how Buddhism relates to working on a bike. You kind of have to “become one with the motorcycle.” He references some old-school philosophers like Plato and Aristotle, so I’m glad I became familiar with those two before I read this. Otherwise, it might have been even more difficult to read. It did help me understand the work of the old philosophers more, so I appreciate that. Later in the book, the main character has memories of his alter-ego, Phaedrus. Phaedrus has this really intense philosophical debate at his college. And he goes crazy because he realizes he’ll never find the meaning to these philosophical questions. There’s a lot of going back and forth between the motorcycle ride and Phaedrus’s struggles. I probably failed to understand everything in the book so that might be why I didn’t like it more than I did. It definitely didn’t blow my mind like some other philosophy has, but it was a decent book. 

United States Constitution 

This book contains the U.S. Constitution as well as additional commentary on the writing and historical application of the document. Because I follow American politics, I understand the context of the book a lot better than I would otherwise, and vice-versa. If you debate others on politics or current-events, the Constitution will give you an unbiased perspective. It’s essential in understanding the way our government is run. The Articles laid-out how the three branches keep each other balanced, and part of the book’s commentary explained the rise of the two-party system. I couldn’t help but think that if one party controlled all three branches, then that’s not very balanced at all. I found the amendments to be particularly interesting, especially looking at the dates the amendments were passed. There is usually a span of several decades between amendments. Only one amendment has been passed in my lifetime, and I think it’s a good one. It says if legislators vote themselves a raise, it can’t go into effect until after the next election. Tip O’Neill’s commentary towards the end of the book improved my understanding as well. Certainly an informative read, but could be potentially dry if you don’t care anything about politics. 

Dark Places by Gillian Flynn 

I’ve now read all of Flynn’s books. They’re all great, and I think this is the best one. I wish she had some more books. Most of the genre fiction I’ve been reading lately isn’t close to being on par with her stuff. Her last book, Gone Girl, was published eight years ago in 2012, so it seems like it’s past-due for her to come out with a new one. Then again, maybe she has written some other stuff, realized it wasn’t as amazing as this, and decided they shouldn’t be released. Anyway, I’m getting impatient.

Like Sharp Objects, this was a murder mystery. However, with Sharp Objects, it was pretty obvious who (one of) the killers was. With Dark Places, I was just as uncertain as the protagonist. The idea of two unrelated killers being in the same house at the same time seem a little too much of a coincidence to be realistic or for anybody to figure out. That may sound like I’m whining; I’m not; I understand you have to do these types of things to create great fiction. I think part of the reason Flynn’s writing is so addictive for me is that she’s Gen X from a rural area, like me, and relates growing up in the 80’s and 90’s to being an adult in present times, which is something I’m always thinking about. 

The Kilimanjaro Device by Ray Bradbury 

Who doesn’t have regrets in their life that they would like to go back and change? We tend to think of an ideal or perfect way of doing things, and there are moments in our lives that we find cringe-worthy. When working on a project or creating art, you can go back and fix your mistakes. But you can’t always do that with life. According to this story, the same thing applies to death. There is a bad way of dying and an ideal way of dying. An ideal death isn’t necessarily pain-free but rather one that is aesthetically suitable throughout the ages. The protagonist knew that his father’s grave didn’t belong where it was. His “Kilimanjaro Device” could travel across time (and space) to help him fix his father’s death and make it right. The topic of time-travel is certainly exciting, and it is touching when he gets to go back and meet his late father.

The Kilimanjaro Device was Ray Bradbury’s tribute to Ernest Hemingway, deriving its name from The Snows of Kilimanjaro. Although I am not a huge fan of Hemingway, I can certainly appreciate the influence he had on Bradbury and others. 

True Crime by Samantha Kolesnik 

I’ve been looking for things similar to The Girl Next Door by Jack Ketchum, and after reading more of his books and doing some research, I ran across this. True Crime has the same kind of essence as TGND, as others have pointed out. The protagonist was a victim of abuse, and the first person narrative really captures the nihilistic mindset that was caused by that abuse and contributed to her own criminal behavior. You see that she can’t help the way she is, that she doesn’t have the capacity to escape this nihilism. Just a total sense of hopelessness and emptiness even though others tried to help. 

North American Lake Monsters by Nathan Ballingrud 

All these stories held my attention and I finished this book rather quickly; the book was over before I knew it or would have liked it to be over. The same can be said about the individual stories. I’m not used to ambiguous literary horror like this or Shirley Jackson (I’m more used to Lovecraft-style endings), but it’s growing on me. They don’t seem like proper endings, but I realized the author did his job and I could use my imagination to fill in the rest of the story. All the stories followed a similar theme, and they really got me thinking, especially about the concept of “ghosts.” A great pick for Halloween season. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1-25-20: It’s 11PM as I write this. I’m sitting in my apartment in Spring Hill, TN. This week, I started 3^rd shift; it’s an interesting schedule, for sure. I have a fascination and affinity with this shift, simply because I’m awake when most people are asleep. For a few years, I’ve had a tradition of reading horror during these dark hours; early in 2019, I listened to the audiobook of Interview with the Vampire while on this shift. That added a whole other level to the fascination, because of the vampire narrative. My main purpose for starting this shift was so I could do tax preparation during the day, and my trainer at the tax place made a funny comment about me sleeping in my “vampire lair.” She didn’t know anything about me being a fan of horror and Anne Rice; it was just a coincidence. Since I’ve finished Interview, I now listen to The Vampire Lestat anytime I’m driving in my car and it’s dark. Despite the horror aspect, there are downsides to 3^rd shift. It opens me up to do anything I want during the day, but sometimes that will disturb my sleep schedule. One day this week, I got up “early” (whatever that means) to go do my tax job. When I got off, I went back home and slept a couple hours before going into my 3^rd shift job. Doing a lot of things during the day when you’re on 3^rd shift is the equivalent of doing things in the middle of the night for 1^st shift.

It seems like there’s less drama on 3^rd shift; I seem to get along with the people and there’s less stress. That’s a big thing for me, stress. I’m not lazy at all but I try to stay away from unpleasant people. Just let me do my job and I’m good. So, I might stay on this shift for a while eve after tax season, if the social situation stays the same. But society isn’t considerate of 3^rd shifters, and every does all their stuff during the day. It’s winter right now, so I don’t have to worry about weed eaters and leaf blowers. Oh. My. God. Those things are loud! During the summer, people doing yard work at my apartment will have a leaf blower right next to my window. It sounds like it’s in the room with me, making it impossible to sleep. I could try some time of noise blocker and a sound machine; I don’t know how well those will work. If they don’t, then I’ll have to get back on 2^nd or 1^st.

I do have an agenda for tonight, which includes my usual routine. I wake up, and the first thing I do is fifteen burpees. This gets my heartrate up quite well. Then I cook a healthy breakfast. Tonight, I had three scrambled eggs with cheese, a bowl of raw spinach, and two mandarins. After eating, I do a fifteen-minute meditation, followed by reading for 45 minutes. Tonight, it was Great Expectations. Later, I finished up all the spinach and carrots I had, as well as some tuna salad and crackers. Pretty healthy, huh? I’ll probably microwave a bowl of oatmeal here in a little bit. Another thing on the agenda is writing for three hours. I’m on my second hour right now. My first hour was spent writing my novella, titled West. (It’s on this page if you want to check it out.) I’m sure it’s terrible, but writers write. Before my third hour of writing, I plan on going to Planet Fitness in Franklin, TN and attempt to run on a treadmill for 2.3 miles. It’ll be interesting to see how many people are at the gym this late at night. Gym chains are neat because you can go to different locations. In addition to my home gym in Franklin, I’ve been to locations in Florence, AL, Columbia, TN, Nashville, and New York City. It’s just another one of my exciting travel adventures.

Introduction

In the beginning, even before the material world, consciousness was part the universe. Simple subjective points of view existed in the forms of blobs. They darted across the universe frantically, desperately searching for bodies to occupy, but none were there at first. Then, the material world formed, and human life evolved on Earth. Finally, they could occupy human bodies and have opportunities never seen before. This is the story of four humans and their adventures with the mystery of the blobs.

Chapter One: Natalie Nabors

Natalie Nabors was born in a small, early 20^th century, Indiana town as part of a strict Catholic household. Her father was a farmer, almost always at work and never home, while her mother Edith stayed with the children. Unlike many people of that time, she only had one younger sibling, her brother Frank, born shortly after her. Edith was unable to have any more children after these two. Because of this, Natalie and her brother were very close. They spent much time in church together when they were very young, but when Natalie grew older, she became weary of the restriction in the Catholic religion and wanted to branch out into other ideas. She had been an avid reader from the time she learned and was always looking for ways to stimulate her imagination, but her strict mother would only allow her access to certain things, mostly related to Catholicism. Natalie had a rebellious streak in her early on though, so she was cunning in finding ways to get the information she needed, and she had a big influence on her younger brother, who always just went along with whatever she did. One day, unbeknownst to Mother, she found a copy of Changto, an old Eastern book full of bizarre meditative rituals. She and her brother were both experienced in Catholic meditation because of their rosary devotions, or Hail Mary’s, which consisted of reciting the same phrases over-and-over; Hail Mary’s were good at training one’s mind to focus, however limited that focus was. But Changto was different; it focused on nothing and everything at the same time, and opened her up to notice things, just little things at first, that she’d never picked up on before. Mother would have a cow if she found out about this, so she had to keep the book well-hidden, but brother was always eager to participate in her mischief. Although similar to other Eastern books in many ways, Changto distinguished itself with topics like time-travel and body-swapping. She would just sit alone in her room and practice these rituals for extended periods of time. At first, she started to notice things she wouldn’t notice before like items in her room being out of place and needing straightening. She paid more attention to nature and became less interested at the thoughts in the forefront of her mind. As she put more hours into this practice, she started to feel a lot different. More ideas started to appear from her subconscious, and she started to notice things as she looked out into the world that didn’t seem to come from the physical realm. Some of these things appeared to be blobs. They floated around in her field of vision, and she had this strange feeling that they may be ghosts. She practiced and experienced this on her own for a while before she revealed the book to her brother.

Then one day she told her brother “I’ve got something to show you.”

“What is it?” asked Frank.

She locked the door to their room and said, “You can’t tell mother.”

“Okay, you know I won’t, sis. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“You know how we always recite our Hail Mary’s? I found this book of different kinds of rituals that open you up to other worlds different from the one of our church.” She handed him the book. “I’ve been secretly reading this, and it’s changed the way I see things. I want you to read it with me. We’ll get up early tomorrow morning before Mother awakes to practice the rituals in it.”

“Sounds strange and dangerous,” said Frank “but if you think it’s a good idea, then it must be.” He was always docile towards his sister.

Frank was eager to please so he woke up early, way before they had to be at school, and woke up Natalie to do what they planned. It was still dark, but they had a small lantern to read by. Natalie read a passage out of Changto, then they sat in silence for several minutes. Nothing much happened this time, but she explained to her brother that, as described in the book, they must be patient. Later, mother awoke and took them to school; the day went on just like any other. But that night Frank had a strange dream. In the dream, he was floating about somewhat formlessly and aimlessly. The material world seemed vague. The nuns in his school had taught him about purgatory, and he thought this felt a lot like what that must be like. He wanted and felt he needed to get out of this purgatory. Catholicism taught that one had to be rid of his impurities and sins to get into the kingdom of heaven; Frank felt like other things had to change to get out of this place in his dream. A heartbreaking aspect of this dream was that he felt cut-off from his family, especially his sister. Like in Catholicism, in this world, heaven meant reconciliation with family. He felt helpless in his current form; if only he could occupy a more stable form or body, then he could try to take some action or communicate with others. The only thing he could do now, if he tried hard, was lunge in different directions, with varying degrees of force. Perhaps if he mustered up enough strength, he could lunge hard enough to pierce the veil and break out of this state. Suddenly he felt himself being shaken violently. Fear gripped him. He saw a face looking him in the eye. It was the face of his sister.

“Wake up!” she said. “It’s time to do our ritual.”

It took Frank a little while to realize he’d only been dreaming. The physical awakening was abrupt, but the mental one was slower.

When he finally awoke completely, he told Natalie “I had the strangest dream. I think it had to do with that book.”

“Good” said Natalie. “Let’s do our ritual!”

Like the day before, they read from the book and sat silently for several minutes. After they were done, they talked about what they saw, and he told her more about his dream.

“In the dream, I felt like I was in a strange kind of purgatory.” Said Frank.

“The book talks a lot about purgatory. It warns that when most people die, they’ll be stuck there for a long time, maybe even forever. The dreams we have can be prophetic, and if we explore them, we can find clues to help us escape this purgatory after we die.”

“Okay, but I’m still young, and we’re pretty well off. I hope I don’t die for a long time. Why do we have to worry about this right now?”

“Because it’s fun!” she said. “Plus, we might be able to see into the future.”

“I guess you’re right.” As always, Frank trusted his sister’s judgment better than his own.

As the days and weeks passed, they continued their practice and their learning increased exponentially. Frank’s dreams became more vivid; they were realistic, and he could move around in different physical realms and time periods. When they did their rituals, they could hear each other’s thoughts and could sometimes think together as one. They started planning a postmortem journey in time where they could secure their fate in heaven together. This would have to be done in one of Frank’s dreams. Natalie would meet him in his dream, and they would take their trip to the future together. They would both be able to travel to 21^st century and observe the world from the outside. They’d see all the living souls who occupied bodies, but would also see the numerous dead souls, or blobs, in purgatory, overlapping the physical world, with no bodies to occupy. Changto had given them heightened intuition, so they knew their souls were among those in this future purgatory. It would take much searching to find their future selves among this legion.

Unfortunately, when they arrived in the dream, their intuition wasn’t yet sharp enough yet to do everything they wanted. Frank awoke before they were able to. It was morning again, and they were ready to do their waking ritual. They were so advanced now that they never talked during their practice. Natalie read the words from the page, and Frank retained it without her speaking. They knew that they would die at different times, and that this would be when their souls would be separated. At the time of the first one’s death, the living one would also be in purgatory because of the separation of family. They would also be separated geographically, making the reconciliation even harder. They would need help from people who were alive then. But the helpers would have to come to them, not vice-versa. Most of all, their fate depended on sibling love and loyalty.

They continued to practice these rituals, but some future events were yet to be revealed, even after several months of the practice. When Natalie got older, she moved out to Hollywood to pursue an acting career and was very successful, starring in several movies and becoming one of the most famous actresses of the time. Meanwhile, Frank stayed back home in Indiana and helped his father on the farm. Natalie’s agent, Charles Feldman, would sometimes drive her back home, on famous Route 66, to visit her family. Although disappointed in her career choice, Mother and Father were always happy to see her. Frank was always excited and had a million questions, not just about her acting, but about their rituals. He didn’t have his own copy of Changto, but he’d written down and memorized several verses that he repeated every morning. This helped them stay connected even when they were miles apart. On one of their visits, Frank convinced Charles to take him out to California with them for a visit. He couldn’t stay long because he had to get back to help Father on the farm, but it would be an exciting experience. Frank packed his things, and the three of them piled into the Model-T to head out West. Charles had plenty of fascinating stories about his career as one of the first Hollywood agents; he was a pioneer of the film industry, working with Charlie Chaplin and others. Natalie and Frank told stories about their childhood together in Indiana; how they always rebelled against their strict upbringing. They never revealed the secret of their rituals though. When Frank finally returned home from this adventure, he vowed to visit his sister every few years, and they maintained a steady long-distance relationship this way for decades. As they grew older, Natalie became an established movie-star, and Frank took over the family farm. It was a successful business and Frank had his own transportation to travel out West whenever he wanted. He would sometimes drive her to visit their elderly parents. Frank had discovered a newly built truck stop called Simon’s Truck Stop in New Mexico. Next door to the truck stop was a restaurant with some of the tastiest food he’d ever had. It also gave him a strange feeling, like déjà vu. He made sure Natalie went there to eat with him several times, and she had the same feeling about it. By this time, she was so famous that people recognized almost everywhere she went. Many people at Simon’s would approach her and ask for autographs, and this didn’t bother her in the least. She enjoyed the recognition, and Frank enjoyed the attention he got by affiliation. He was proud of his sister; he always had been. Their patronizing the establishment helped in its popularity and success. Other celebrities visited Simon’s, but Natalie was always the favorite. Her picture, along with the pictures of other stars, was put up on the wall for decoration and recognition. One day, they came in for one of their regular visits to the place. The truck stop had added on a building that would be a museum for cars and memorabilia. To their surprise, a life-size statue of Natalie was on display. They both immediately thought of the rituals, because this provided a metaphysical body for her soul to occupy after death. It was perfect, because it would be visited by many other souls, with potential for communication. This was meant to be. They had found one more piece to the puzzle in the mystery of Changto. Many years passed, and Simon’s remained a rite of passage between their home and the West. When Natalie died, Frank spread her ashes out in the field behind Simon’s. This allowed her easy access to the body that would hold her for decades.

Because the siblings were so very close, Frank was depressed after her death, but he still felt the strong bond with her that he’d always had. Sometimes it was like she wasn’t even gone. After their parents had passed, he’d sold the farm and moved to Las Vegas. This was at a time that Vegas was run by the mob; he became entrenched in this burgeoning city, was successful as a professional gambler, and even became involved with the politics of that town. But law and order were not a big part of the scene in the early days of the casinos, so along with the success and excitement came danger. Though Frank was not a major public figure, since Vegas was close to Hollywood, many people in the area knew about him being Natalie’s brother, and there was some jealousy and bad blood. He had supported a mayoral candidate that ended up losing the election, and the mayor who won held that against him. Because of his huge success as a gambler, the casinos were always watching him closely. One night at the casino, during one of Frank’s winning streaks, a couple huge bouncers came and grabbed him by the arms, manhandling him roughly and carrying him off to a private room.

Inside was one of the casino bosses. “Frank, I’ve been watching you.” He said. “I suspect you’ve been counting cards.”

“I’ve done nothing of the sort.” Frank replied. The bouncers were still holding him by the arms, creating discomfort.

“There’s no way you could have won that many games without cheating. You’ve costed the casino a lot of money because of your tricks. I’m going to make sure we put an end to it.”

“You don’t have any proof of anything, because I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Frank’s protests meant nothing, however, and they held him in that room until the police showed up. The police roughed him up the same way the bouncers had, and he was held in a jail cell for a few days before he was let out due to lack of evidence. While he was in the cell, he thought of Natalie. He wondered what she would think of his situation. He’d always valued her opinion so much, and it was strange and confusing not having her input. He felt like the end was near. A few weeks after his release from jail, his dead body was found in a back alleyway. No one was ever convicted of his murder. Such was the way of Vegas at that time. Only a few friends attended his funeral and his ashes were scattered behind one of the casinos, as a tribute to his passion. His soul would float around aimlessly for years until a strange mannequin store would eventually be put up, giving him a body to occupy. He would then only be able to wait for his saviors, Kenny and Troy.

Chapter Two: The Trip

“I’m ready to go,” Kenny told Troy.

Kenneth Lawson played guitar and sang in a band called Creem Dreem. They’d been together for a few years, starting as a two piece with only drums, guitar and vocals. Later, they added a bassist and rhythm guitarist to make it a four-piece. But the drummer and co-founder, Troy Smith, had just moved from Alabama, the band’s location, to Las Vegas, NV, for work as a cable provider. Because the band was so important to him and he was still stuck in the South, Troy and the other two members quickly decided to find another drummer to take his place so they could continue playing shows and try to build the momentum they so desperately needed. They were in a small college town, but it had a decent music scene considering the circumstances. Nate had a passion for rock music because he felt it could be honest and real. He sometimes felt frustrated with society and it gave him the purpose of “sticking it to the man.” But he felt he couldn’t really “stick it” the way he wanted to, unless he got to a bigger town. That town was Las Vegas, so he was ready to tell his other bandmates goodbye.

Troy had recommended Kenny for the job, he had been hired, and now was ready to drive out West. He had never taken a road trip like this, and the thought of it was exciting. He packed his things, including all his music equipment, and was on his way. At first, it was all familiar territory, until he crossed the beautiful Mississippi River into Arkansas. But Arkansas still looked the same, with all the trees, greenery, and, he imagined, rednecks. It was a long day driving but he had caffeine to power him through and CDs to keep him entertained. He finally crossed into Oklahoma, and that’s when things started to change. Unlike where he was from, casinos were everywhere. Kenny had never been much of a gambler; he hardly ever won at gambling, and it bored him. But he was happy to see all the casinos and billboards for them because it was different. Shortly after he crossed into Oklahoma, he stopped at a hotel. He felt that since he’d crossed into truly unknown territory, it was time for a rest.

Kenny awoke the next morning full of energy and ready for his next adventure. He had a positive mindset, because of the many possibilities of discovery. He was ready to drive out of the South, and into the West. When he made it through the Texas panhandle, he’d be there. So, it was driving and more driving for Ken. Hours later he crossed into New Mexico and arrived at a truck stop for some gas, munchies, and bathroom break. The first thing he noticed was men with cowboy boots and hats. He thought he should have been expecting this; after all, it was the Wild West. But he wasn’t. He was now on classic Route 66, full of history. Books like The Grapes of Wrath made him interested in this history, and he felt like in a strange way, his trip paralleled the trip of the poor people in that story, though his was obviously more privileged. The truck stop was called Simon’s Truck Stop, and it had an antique car museum in the back. When he walked in, he had a strange feeling that he had been transported back in time. There were the classic cars, and large photos of the people who drove them back in the 1950’s, including ordinary people but also celebrities like Clark Gable and one of his favorite actresses, the beautiful Natalie Nabors. There were amazingly realistic statues of these three icons. They were so realistic that it creeped him out a bit. He had always had a strange idea of the past still existing through movies, music, and literature; that people became immortal through these formats. He looked Gable straight in the eye. He knew it was just a statue, but it felt so real, like Gable was looking back at him, in a staring contest Kenny was sure to lose.

Gable said “I travelled this path years ago on the way to my career in Hollywood. That is the place where you will secure your immortality. You are on the right path, Kenneth.”

Kenny was not shocked by this. He had always felt a connection to Gable through his acting and it seemed like they should make a connection; well, here it was. But he never knew what to say when he met celebrities, so he simply responded by saying “Thank you,” and moved on to Natalie.

“Hey handsome,” Natalie said in her flirty way. Nate was shocked and pleased by this. He wasn’t expecting her to be so affectionate. “I hope you’re enjoying your trip. You’re going to love it out West.”

“Thanks!” said Kenny. “Um, how do you like it in here?”

“It’s incredibly lonely in here. Shortly after my death, my soul was transported here; it’s hard to understand and explain why, but I think I get the gist of it. I was born and raised in Indiana, and when I travelled back and forth from there to the West coast, I often passed through this city and visited this building, so it was a rite of passage between the two worlds I lived in when I was alive. Now I’m stuck here in the middle, looking in both directions. My body died long ago, and I’ve been stuck here in this purgatory ever since. I’m ready to go home. I rarely see people like you who can communicate with me. You have a rare ability, Ken. I hope you can help me.”

It just now occurred to him how bizarre this situation was. It all seemed so natural at first, but the statement about his special ability made him realize this was not normal. Still, he played along.

“I don’t know what I can do to help.”

“Try to find other souls that are in the same type of purgatory I’m in. If you talk to them, maybe we can team up to figure something out.”

They talked for hours before Kenny decided he had to get back on the road. He felt like they had made a real connection talking about her career and his life and ambition, so he didn’t want to go, but he knew he couldn’t make headway on his trip and meet the responsibilities of his new job, so they parted. When he got back on the road, it really hit him how different the scenery was now, mostly desert. And he felt different; he felt like he had a totally new life; he’d passed through the rite of passage just like Natalie had. It felt good; he felt high. He didn’t even bother listening to CDs now because they would only disturb his thoughts about Natalie, and he didn’t want that. But as the miles and hours passed by, his pleasant thoughts turned into obsession. He wanted to go back and see her. He didn’t want to go out West on this adventure unless she was involved. Now he tried putting on music to distract the thoughts of his one-track mind, but to no avail. He felt like he was going crazy, but he had to stay focused. Now he had a mission: to help get Natalie connected with her allies so they could work together and get out of purgatory. Hours later, he crossed Arizona state line and stopped for the night.

That night his dreams were more intense than they ever had been in his life. In one of the dreams, he was waking up in some random hotel room out West. He was walking down to the lobby to get some coffee, still drowsy. As he was walking, he noticed random portions of his field of vision where the coloration was darker. They seemed to float about, increasing and decreasing in size as he walked, so they somewhat appeared as objects. They looked like blobs. He moved his hand toward one of the blobs, and it retreated, as if it were alive. He decided, since it was so early in the morning, that after he had his coffee and cleared his head, he could figure out this mystery. He asked the lady at the front desk if she noticed anything strange and she said she didn’t. He made his coffee strong like he liked it and sat down in the lobby drinking it and staring at the blobs. Perhaps the lady thought something was wrong with him; he didn’t care. He sat there staring for an indefinite amount of time; he almost completely forgot about his coffee. It occurred to him that these blobs were souls, and since they didn’t possess physical bodies, the proper term for them would be ghosts. The lady couldn’t see them so he thought that he and possibly some others were the only ones who could see them. Suddenly, one of the blobs started to barrel at him aggressively with a rapid pace causing him to think he was going to be hit; it startled him greatly.

He awoke suddenly and jumped up in his bed. He could remember the dream vividly; it seemed so real. Now that he was awake, he thought of Natalie, whom he had not thought of in his dream. Like the blobs, she was a ghost, but unlike the blobs, she occupied a type of physicality that could be seen in the waking world. It never occurred to him he was crazy. After he had crossed over his rite of passage, this was the new normal; he just had to figure everything out. Since Natalie was in a type of purgatory, perhaps these blobs were in a different type of purgatory; she occupied the waking world and they the dream-world. They were in two different rooms, with him being the mediator: the only one (he knew of) who could pass through the doors. After all, as much as he had been thinking of Natalie, she had not been in the dream. And the blobs might never appear while he was awake. Though Natalie couldn’t leave Simon’s Truck Stop, apparently the blobs could move freely through the space of the dream-world, and, judging by the blob that awakened him, quite speedily. So, this dream gave clues, but no real answers (yet) to what Natalie needed him to do. After lying in bed and thinking for a while, he finally got up and got in the shower. Then he walked down the steps into the lobby, just like in his dream. Everything was the same except for the blobs. The same lady was there, and he got his coffee and sat in the chair just like in the dream. He sat in the chair thinking for a long time, further analyzing his situation and planning his next move. Just like the dream except no blobs. Déjà vu.

He had been practicing meditation on and off, and this was a time he felt like he really needed it to get his mind straight. Perhaps the answers would come to him during that time. So, he concentrated on breathing for a short time, but it didn’t take long for his thought to return to Natalie and the blobs. Since his current experience was so much like the dream, the blobs must be there, somewhere under the surface of the reality he was able to perceive while awake. They, like Natalie, may need his help but can’t find a way to reach him. Perhaps all his physical surroundings occupied the foreground while their presence were stuck in the background, unable to break through, except in dreams. And then only slightly. His though returned to the blob that awakened him by approaching so rapidly and wondered why it had. Maybe it was desperately trying to occupy his body, which was already occupied by his own soul. Maybe Natalie had been lucky enough to have a ready-made, unoccupied, physicality she could occupy, while these blobs were stuck in a dream-world they couldn’t escape. So perhaps Kenny could help some of them find bodies to occupy. He started thinking of places where he saw mannequins, statues, fatheads, or any life size depictions of human beings. In addition to museums that had mannequins of public figures, department stores had mannequins to model clothing. If a ghost was not famous, it was unlikely they would ever have one made in their image, so maybe they could occupy one of these generic department store mannequins. But how? Nate had a lot of brainstorming to do if he was going to figure this all out, but he was up to the challenge. Right now, these ghosts could not pass through the doors of the dream/waking world, but maybe there was some way he could open one the doors and allow them to pass through. He thought of that blob that approached him so rapidly in the dream. Perhaps it was trying to enter his body ad use him as a vessel for transport into the waking world, but he resisted its approach. All this brainstorming made him anticipate the next time he would go to sleep and what his dreams would be like then. He was almost certain the blobs would be there, although the dream may be in a different setting or location. He thought he could interact differently with them, because he wouldn’t be surprised and had had time to think about the situation. Suddenly he realized he had been sitting in the chair in the lobby for well over an hour. He snapped back into reality. There were other responsibilities to be taken care of outside of the bizarre world of ghosts, blobs, and statues. He had to get ready to check out of the hotel and drive the rest of the way into Las Vegas to meet up with Troy and the rest of the people he’d be working with. He was back in the world of reality, and suddenly felt all the emotions associated with it: nervousness about the job, and the excitement meeting other musicians to play shows in a new city. He almost completely forgot about Natalie and the blobs. He packed up his things, checked out, got in the car, found his CD of Black Sabbath’s first album and turned it up loud for the ride. It was 10 AM, and he should be at his destination by 2. For the rest of his drive, he was engrossed by the music and the scenery. He didn’t think about Natalie the whole time.

Chapter Three: Troy’s Psychosis

Troy was having another one of his crazy dreams. This one, like so many of the others, was full of chaos and anxiety. He was strapped to a chair in an empty room; empty except for the blobs. He didn’t know how he got there. He must’ve been in some type of blackout when he was tied up. Perhaps someone had drugged him. The ropes hurt his arms. He had been trying to escape by manipulating the ropes but to no avail. He was not blindfolded or gagged, but somehow felt that was unfortunate because he didn’t want to be able to see the horror before him. The room was full of blobs; it made him think of scenes he had seen in factory farming where the living conditions of the animals were so cruel due to them being packed together too tightly. Yet somehow it wasn’t too tight for the blobs to be moving around frantically. They seemed to be moving through each other. And occasionally one would dart at him, shocking him and raising his fear even more. At first, he would blankly stare at this legion, only screaming when one would dart forward. But when three of them darted at him simultaneously, he screamed and kept screaming, trying to drown everything else out with his voice. He started shaking and the chair broke beneath him, causing him to fall to the floor.

He woke up screaming. The memory of the dream vanished quickly, and his first thought was how loud his scream had been, and if his roommate, Ethan, had heard it. He got up out of bed to see Ethan’s bedroom door closed. It was Sunday morning, and Ethan drank a lot last night (he did every night), so Troy assumed he was pretty zonked out due to that. Troy’s door had also been closed, so these circumstances provided him with some relief. It wasn’t that Troy was self-conscious; he just didn’t want to have to explain to anybody what was happening. This always led to people giving him advice and he hated having people tell him what to do, so he avoided it like the plague. With the relief of not having to explain himself, he went back to bed happy, knowing that Kenny would probably be here tomorrow, and they could start working on their music together.

He woke up for good two hours later. Ethan was still asleep, and probably would be for a while. He was hardly ever hungry when he first woke up and thought the best way to stay thin was just not to eat, so he just made coffee and turned on the morning news. It looked like it was going to be a slow news day, so he flipped through the channels for a while and finally got bored with it. Then he picked up his acoustic guitar and messed around with chord patterns, trying to come up with new ideas for songs. After coming up with a neat little riff and repeating it over and over, he recorded the audio on his phone so he wouldn’t forget it. Then he got a notepad and wrote some words that seemed to fit the riff. After that, he went back and tried to sing them while playing the guitar, recording that also. Troy couldn’t sing well, but it didn’t matter because the recording only served as a blueprint for what Kenny, Creem Dreem’s singer, could transform it into. He emailed the recordings to Kenny, hoping Kenny would be able to do something with it. Kenny didn’t have the same amount of drive as Troy had for writing and recording, so he had to be patient. Sometimes it would be weeks before Kenny got around to trying to work on one of the songs. Music was essential in Troy’s life because it was the only thing that relieved his existential angst. He had been through a nasty divorce that didn’t end in his favor, had huge child-support payments, always had high-stress jobs, and felt pressure in his other responsibilities. And worse than all that, he felt anxiety that seemed to come from an unknown source. He couldn’t pinpoint it. Music was his pressure gauge for all these things; he’d be miserable without it. This music was getting him excited, so he decided to break out the electric guitar and plug it into the amp. Setting it to what he thought was a reasonable volume, he started jamming the new song, playing that same riff over and over, making small adjustments. He loved the sound of the guitar and amp that he had recently purchased. The potential of the new song mixed with the sweet sound of the new amp made him ecstatic. For just a moment, all his troubles were washed away. Meanwhile, Ethan lay in his bed, getting annoyed by all the racket.

Ethan busted out of his bedroom door and yelled, “Turn it down, you son-of-a-bitch!”

“It’s too loud?” Troy calmly asked. He was flustered by Ethan’s scathing reaction, but had developed, out of necessity, a knack for concealing his anxiety.

“Hell yes. What the fuck’s wrong with you? Plus, I have a terrible hangover, and that noise you’re making doesn’t help at all.”

“I’ll turn it down.” Said Troy. He hoped Ethan would go back to sleep for a while, but it looked like he was up for good. Ethan looked in the refrigerator, hoping to find a beer, but there were none left from the night before. He had lost his license for DUI several months ago, so he didn’t have any way to get to the store.

“Can you give me a ride to the store to get some beer?”

“Sure. Just give me a minute to work on this song a little bit more. Then I got to take a shower. Then we can go.”

“Okay,” said Ethan, as he sat down on the couch next to Troy and started flipping through the channels. Troy went back to playing his guitar, with the volume turned down a notch, but his inspiration was all gone. The anxiety had returned, like it always did, in one form or another. The moments of reprieve that music provided were always fleeting. He got up and went to the shower.

“You ready to go?” asked Troy, after he had showered and gotten dressed.

“Yep.”

They both got in the car and headed out. It wasn’t much of a drive, but Troy was still annoyed because he didn’t feel like going anywhere. He wanted to be playing music. The traffic was terrible, and Ethan was talking a million miles an hour. He tried to tune out Ethan’s rambling. They pulled up to the store. Troy waited in the car while Ethan walked in and bought a case of Budweiser. It was going to be another drunk Sunday for Ethan. Troy would only drink two or three out of boredom. He got back in the car and cracked one open immediately, asking Troy if he wanted one. Troy told him he’d wait until they got back to the house. They pulled out onto the road and headed back. Ethan was still rambling, and in the midst of it, Troy started daydreaming. He thought of how great the future could be if he could get away from his current job and play music for a living, writing, recording, and playing shows all the time. He was getting deeper and deeper in this fantasy, when suddenly a blob appeared out of nowhere and darted at him. He reflexively swerved his car, crossing the median and almost hitting an oncoming car. Their horn blared, and he crossed back into his lane.

“Holy shit, you motherfucker!” cried Ethan. “Are you tryin’ to get us killed?”

“Sorry” said Troy. “I got distracted.”

Ethan laughed. “You don’t need no beer if you drive like that sober. Or maybe you do. It might help you drive better.”

“Yeah, give me one.”

Ethan cracked one open and handed it to him. He took a few sips to satisfy his thirst but didn’t finish it. When they got home, Ethan plopped down on the couch, ready to binge on alcohol and television. Troy headed straight to the bedroom to take a nap. He was already ready for this day to be over. He didn’t do much for the rest of the day other than avoid talking to Ethan.

Chapter Four: The Meeting

Monday greeted Troy with an alarm clock sounding. The night had been free of intense dreams about the blobs and he woke up refreshed. Ethan was already up when Troy got up. Despite his heavy drinking, Ethan had a good work ethic that didn’t seem to be affected by alcohol. They rode together to their boss’s house where they would have the menial task of cutting and labelling wires. A few hours into the shift, Troy got a text-message from Kenny. He had arrived at the house where Ethan and Troy stayed. Troy texted him back, telling him he was on his way to meet him. He got permission from his boss and headed out. When he arrived at the house, Kenny was sitting in his car in the driveway. They got out of their cars and greeted each other. They had many things to catch up on but had to keep the conversation brief so they could focus on work. Troy trained Kenny on a labelling job he could do at the house and then headed back to his boss’s house so he could finish off his job and bring Ethan back. That afternoon, when the shift was over, they finally got to talk. They talked for hours about Ethan’s road trip, Troy’s Vegas experience so far, work, and of course, music. But something was missing in their conversation. Kenny wanted to tell about his meeting with Natalie, but was too embarrassed, knowing the story would make him sound crazy. He wasn’t ready to share the story yet but thought Troy would be more likely to understand than anybody else he knew. And Troy wanted to talk about this strange cause of his anxiety but didn’t quite know how to explain it. Ethan had caught a glimpse of what sometimes happened to him, but Ethan wasn’t somebody he trusted enough to confide in. Surely Kenny would see one of Troy’s “episodes” soon enough, and then perhaps he could try to explain it to someone who would be more likely to understand. After their talk, they unpacked Kenny’s things into the third bedroom of the house. The two of them living together with Ethan was going to be an interesting experience.

The rest of the week at work went smoothly, and when the weekend arrived, the three of them decided to go check out Fremont Street. They all piled in Troy’s car and headed out. They had all gotten paid and Ethan was ready to spend his money drinking and gambling in the casinos. Kenny and Troy didn’t care much for gambling, but Kenny was curious and wanted to explore the city. When they got there, they ran into some of their coworkers and Ethan went with them to play the card tables. Kenny and Troy walked up and down Fremont a couple times, then decided to go down some of the other streets. There were record stores, bookstores, cool artwork, bars, and of course, casinos. As they walked, it became less and less crowded. They arrived at what looked like an abandoned building. Troy asked Kenny to stop so they could look inside and check it out. There were dozens of mannequin heads and other body parts lying around; it was intriguing. Out front was a full mannequin, looking like it was either guarding the heads or waiting for somebody.

“I wonder who arranged this. It looks bizarre.” Said Troy.

“You’re right.” said Kenny. “I could stare at it for days.” They both stood silently for several minutes looking at the mannequins. Then Kenny spoke up. “Who are you?” Troy saw that Kenny appeared to be talking to the mannequin in the front. Troy had a strange notion that Kenny had an ability to communicate with the mannequin that Troy didn’t possess. Then Kenny appeared to be listening to the mannequin, like the mannequin was asking him a question that Troy couldn’t hear. He responded, “Yes, I know Natalie. She’s in New Mexico.” Though conversing with mannequins was obviously absurd, what Kenny was doing didn’t seem strange in the moment. He spoke again to the mannequin. “I went to this truck stop in New Mexico just for a break from driving on my way out here from Alabama. There was a museum in there with classic cars, old photos, and these statues. One of the statues was of Clark Gable. Amazingly, I had a conversation with him just like I’m having with you. It was short though, and then I moved on to my conversation with Natalie. We talked for a long time and she convinced me to go on this mission. It looks like I’ve found one of the clues here with you.” Then Kenny was silent for several minutes; he appeared to again be listening to the mannequin with Troy looking on. Then he responded. “I’ll see what I can do. Obviously, from what you’ve told me, and since you’re her brother, the two of you had a close relationship. If you’re reunited, it can help get both of you out of purgatory and get you to your metaphysical home. We’ll need to be strategic in our approach. There are unknown powers that may try to work against us. My friend Troy and I travel back and forth across the country a lot, and we may get to visit the truck stop soon. Perhaps I can recruit him in this bizarre mission.” Kenny glanced at Troy. Troy nodded in agreement. “I want to talk to Natalie before we make any drastic moves.” Kenny appeared to be listening again. After a minute, he nodded his head and said “Okay, we’ll be back.” The mannequin held the soul of Frank Nabors.

“That was far out.” Troy said, as they walked back toward Fremont Street. “Most people would see you talking to a mannequin and think you were crazy, but I felt like something real was going on there, and I’ve also been having some strange experiences I’ve wanted to discuss with somebody. Sometimes I see blobs. It’s like they’re trying to attack me.”

“The blobs!” cried Kenny.

“You see them too?” asked Troy.

“Yeah. I see them in my dreams.”

“It seems like I have dreams about them too, although I can’t remember them well. I have encounters with them in waking hours that really shock me.”

“I’ve never seen them when awake.”

“They dart at me and distract me really badly. They almost made me wreck my car the other day when Ethan was riding with me. Speaking of Ethan, let’s see what he’s doing. After all that, I’m ready to go home.” Troy texted Ethan and found out he was going to get a ride back with his gambling buddies, so they headed home without him. On the ride back, they told each other about all the bizarre things they had experienced. They agreed to go to the truck stop so Kenny could talk to Natalie and tell her about talking to the soul of her brother in the mannequin’s body. Frank claimed that he and Natalie were close, and it now occurred to Kenny that their reunification and love may have more to do with “home” than a geographical location like Indiana. Natalie wanted to leave purgatory and go home, and this could be the key. So, they continued their job in Vegas for several weeks before they had the opportunity to drive back home.

Kenny and Troy left out from Vegas early one Saturday morning in Kenny’s car. It was a long drive, but they made it to Simon’s Truck Stop late that night. Troy had never been there but thought the museum looked cool. He had an affinity for classic cars and couldn’t believe he’d never heard of this place before. They looked around for a while before they got down to business. They approached the statue of Natalie, staring at it for a while. Troy was amazed at how realistic it looked. Troy was not as big a fan as Kenny but had seen some of her movies. The statue looked just like her.

“Hey Natalie” said Kenny. Like when Kenny had the conversation with the mannequin that contained Frank’s soul, Troy looked on in silence, only able to hear Kenny’s side. “I found Frank. He wants to reunite with you. I told him I’d come talk to you before I took any drastic action. We agreed that you might have some ideas on what we could do to accomplish our goal.” Kenny was silent for a moment. “Yes, I know about the blobs. Troy and I both have had experiences with them” This next silence was longer. It occurred to Troy that Natalie might be explaining the mystery of the blobs. “Yes Natalie, that makes sense. Troy and I were put together as a team for a reason. I’m the one who communicates with souls such as yourself and Frank. Though Troy lacks the communication skills, he is better suited to be used as a vehicle for souls such as yourself and Frank. His capacity for this is so strong that the blobs try to penetrate him even during waking hours. I must explain all this to him, but I think he’ll cooperate when he understands. I should be seeing you soon. Goodbye.”

They went out to the parking lot and got back in Kenny’s car. Troy said “Well, it looks like she explained a lot to you. What’s up?”

“This blob situation is pretty hard to understand and explain, but I’m going to give it my best shot. You see, these blobs are souls that were forced to leave their bodies when they died. They’re in hell or purgatory and are desperate to find a body to occupy. That’s why they dart at us. What makes the situation for the blobs so difficult is that they can’t travel too far from where they were buried, where their ashes were scattered, or, if there was no ritual, where their bodies laid when they died. They are so desperate that they will try to penetrate any humans they come across. Most humans are not aware of their presence, and when the blobs try to penetrate them, their body unconsciously and instinctually repels them. Two souls occupying the same body can be problematic, for obvious reasons, like conflict in decision making. Our heightened sensitivity and awareness give us the option of letting the blobs in if we want. This is why Natalie and Frank reached out to us, using a strategic approach. They knew about us before they died and even before we were born, because they used drams for time-travel and saw us. We all don’t have a concrete plan yet; it will take some work.”

They still had several hours to drive before they got home to Alabama. When they arrived, Kenny dropped Troy off at his apartment and went straight to his own house. He was very tired and went into a deep sleep immediately, but with no dreams about the blobs this time. When he woke up, he was excited that he was home with some time off to do whatever he wanted. Since Kenny was obsessed with reading, one of his favorite pastimes was visiting bookstores. There was a corporate bookstore near his house, and one of his plans for the day was to visit it. He was excited to get there. He had visited this bookstore several times when he stayed here, and this strangely felt like a homecoming. The first thing he did when he walked in was check out the new releases at the front of the store. Joe Hill, Caroline Kepnes, and Chuck Palahniuk were some of his favorite contemporary authors, but they didn’t have anything new. After that, he made a beeline for the philosophy section. There was nothing new there, just the same old books that were there months earlier, but he still enjoyed glancing in a few of them to read a few lines and ponder if they would make it onto his to-be-read list. Across from the philosophy section was the spirituality section, a section Kenny generally dismissed, because it was full of astrology and other things that he found ridiculous. But his recent experiences gave him a new perspective. He started browsing this section. Along with astrology, there was Deepak Chopra, Eckhart Tolle, an interesting variety of things. One book that caught his eye was called Necronomicon. This was the title of a book H.P. Lovecraft mentioned in some of his stories that Kenny read. At first, he was surprised to see that Lovecraft’s fiction was based on a real book of witchcraft, not something made-up, then he looked inside the cover to see the author had written it in the 1980’s, decades after Lovecraft’s death. What a hack! So much for the spirituality section. But as he was getting ready to turn away and visit the science section, something caught his eye. It was a large hardcover book with a blue cover and gold embroidery. It stood out among the other books so much that he couldn’t believe he didn’t notice it before. There were Chinese characters in gold on the spine. Everything he went through with Natalie, Frank, and the blobs came rushing back to him all at once. He picked up the book and looked at the front cover. The name of the book was Changto. $14.99 was not a bad price for such a cool looking book. It’d make a great addition to his shelf. He skipped the science section and headed straight to checkout. Then back home for a few hours of reading. Changto had just made it to the top of his to-be-read list. But before he started reading, he had to call Troy.

“Hello.” Said Troy.

“Hey man, I just got this cool new book.”

“You called just to tell me that? What is it?”

“It’s called Changto. It’s thousands of years old Eastern philosophy.”

“Ah, well, I’ve got some sci-fi I’ve been reading that’s probably better than that. I don’t give a damn about reading that bullcrap. You knock yourself out with that though, buddy.”

“I had an intuition that this book will help us help Natalie and Frank. I feel like I have a sixth sense that’s telling me that they may have used this book when they were alive.’

“Ha ha! You have some silly ideas. There’s no such thing as a sixth sense. You don’t know what happened to them and that book is a bunch of nonsense.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Do you not remember all the weird things that have been happening?”

So, Troy reluctantly agreed to read the book with Kenny and do the “rituals” that it described. After they did that a few times, Troy decided that he liked it. When they returned to Vegas, they made a weekly practice of it. Months passed and they had not been back to see the mannequins. One day, when they were doing the ritual, Natalie and Frank appeared before them. They weren’t shocked; the weekly rituals had prepared them for this moment. Frank spoke to Kenny, but unlike the other times, Troy could hear all their conversation.

“We’re in-between the dreaming and waking world,” Frank said, “where we can transcend dimensions but also have access to the material world.”

The four held hands in a circle, sitting Indian-style, as Changto instructed.

“The dream world allows us to move across space and leave our mannequin bodies.” Frank continued, “The waking world can potentially allow us to penetrate other bodies in the physical realm. When that blob attacked Troy while he was driving, it had crossed the dream/waking threshold and did physical damage. Blobs in dreams can’t affect you except mentally. It’s just like anything else. So, what’s gonna happen next is, my soul’s gonna enter your body. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Said Kenny.

“Open your heart, just like Changto says.”

Frank’s body started to float up off the ground. It started to lose its human form. As the details of his form became less pronounced and Frank became less recognizable, Kenny realized that Frank was turning into a gooey, slimy blob. The blob started darting rapidly in all directions, bouncing off the walls. Everyone there had seen this before, the unique thing was that it was Frank doing it. Frank’s blob suddenly returned to where it had been floating in the middle of the room. It was shaking wildly. Kenny was still sitting on the floor Indian style, with his arms spread out, opening himself up mentally and spiritually. Finally, Frank’s blob darted at Kenny and entered his body. Frank went into a hibernation as soon as he arrived. Conflict between two souls in one body would be fatal, according to Changto. Now it was just the three of them sitting there: Natalie, Frank, and Troy.

Natalie stood up. “Well, I gotta go!” and she disappeared.

Now it was only two, Kenny and Troy.

“That was wild!” Troy said. “You know what we gotta do now. We’ve got to head to New Mexico immediately. To hell with work, we’ll have to miss a couple days. And I’ll drive; we’ll take my car. You ain’t drivin’ nowhere with Frankie inside you, ha!”

“I don’t trust you to drive too much with those damn blobs attacking you all the time,” said Kenny “but I guess I don’t have much choice.”

“Naw, man, you don’t. I guess you’ll have to deal with it. Maybe we won’t die.”

“Just be careful.”

“I always am.”

So, the two friends were headed out to New Mexico. Simon’s Truck Stop was about a 12-hour drive, but it wouldn’t be boring. Troy’s driving was fine; he didn’t get attacked by any blobs. Although Frank was supposed to be hibernating inside Kenny, it seemed as if he awakened sometimes during the trip which would cause Kenny to mutter incoherent ramblings. This disturbed Kenny’s psyche quite a bit, and Troy got a kick out of it. Because of this entertainment, the trip seemed a lot shorter than 12 hours; they arrived at Simon’s around midnight. The only people there were the ones working; Kenny and Troy had the museum all to themselves, so nobody was there to think they were weird for talking to mannequins. To Troy’s surprise, Kenny didn’t walk over to Natalie first, but went to talk to Clark Gable.

“Clark, my man, how you been?” asked Kenny.

“I’ve been alright; it’s kind of boring here in purgatory, but it’s fairly peaceful. A lot different from the chaos I experienced in Hollywood.” Said Gable.

“Do you not ever think of getting out of here? My buddy Troy and I are experts at saving people from purgatory.”

“Nah, I’m good, but thanks for the offer.”

“No prob!”

Troy suddenly became aware that he could now hear both sides of the conversation, unlike before when he could only hear Kenny’s side. The rituals finally gave him the same powers as Kenny. Next, Kenny and Troy walked over to Natalie.

Hi Kenny. Hi Troy.” Said Natalie.

Kenny and Troy both said “Hi.” Simultaneously.

“Let’s skip the conversation and get down to business. Kenny, come here and give me a hug.”

Kenny walked over and hugged the mannequin as Troy looked on. It was a good thing they were alone in the museum. Any onlookers would have thought that quite strange. Kenny and Natalie held each other for several minutes, while Frank’s soul slipped from Kenny’s body to Natalie’s. Then Kenny stepped back to observe the subsequent events. Kenny and Troy watched as the two blobs swirled out of Natalie’s mannequin. They were swirling together with a combination of blue and red colors, in a snake-like shape, jolting in different directions across the large room. After a while, the two united blue and red blobs moved to the center of the room, changing into the shape of a ball, no longer moving in any direction but swirling even more rapidly. The two friends focused intensely on the blobs. The ball shot upwards, flattening out and covering the entire ceiling. They looked up there for a long time, wondering what was next. They seemed to be permeating the ceiling, the blue and red slowly fading. They watched until the blue and red was gone, leaving nothing but the ceiling. Natalie and Frank were no longer with them. With the help of Kenny, Troy, and Changto, they had transcended into the kingdom of heaven.

 

 

 

When discussing music theory, comedian Bill Bailey once labelled the major scale too “eager to please.” It was always asking people to “like me.” I’d always thought of the major key as a happy one but had never thought about it quite the way he put it. His way of talking may have been completely tongue-in-cheek, but it got me thinking about things in a way he probably didn’t even intend. Having played in a band and co-written many songs to perform for others, I understand the need for appeal, and we always thought the major scale was one of the best ways to get people to like us. We knew we would never be a major commercial success; we were just shooting for a handful of fans on a local level. The goal was for them to like us while we remained genuine. It wasn’t “art for art’s sake” (that could remain in a vacuum), it was performance art. And we knew the major scale could work on others, because it worked so well when other bands used it on us.

The minor scale, on the other hand, was more introspective. I used it for music in my younger years when I thought nobody understood me. I didn’t care about pleasing anybody unless we made a real connection. Dark and gloomy stuff was what I was into, because that’s how I felt. I didn’t pay any attention to how I dressed because I wasn’t trying to impress anybody. Whether I was staying at home or going out, I looked the same, because that was me. Fashion wasn’t a performance art. So, I wrote these gloomy songs with the music expressing what the words couldn’t; there was a truth expressed that couldn’t be described by words. Of course, I still wanted people to like it; otherwise I never would have played those songs for anybody and just kept them for myself. But I was longing for a connection with other people that I never found and eventually succumbed to a more superficial approach.

The other day, I was thinking about what Bill Bailey had said. I had drifted away from my band because I just don’t like people very much and had stopped caring for that kind of performance art. I was not listening to as much music and was mostly listening to audiobooks in the car at this point. It was a solitary journey. I was curious and wanted to learn truth more than be entertained. Because of my love for books and admiration for authors, I decided to start writing. But this writing was going to be “art for art’s sake,” not performance art. I cared little if people read it. I put it on WordPress, with no more than 4 people ever liking one of my blogs. Whenever I felt like playing music, I had a keyboard I liked to mess around with. I started to write a neo-classical piece, but instead of writing in a major key, I chose minor. I just played and let the music flow. I didn’t care. No lyrics for this piece either; instrumentals were my forte.

This brings me around to the great contrarian philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. He knew he wouldn’t be recognized for his writing in his lifetime, only posthumously. He didn’t care. It occurred to me that if he were a musician, he probably wouldn’t use the major scale frequently. (This could be investigated further, since he was a big fan of Wagner, even writing about him, and I’m unsure what scales Wagner mostly used.) But here’s the crazy thing: You know how music is like a drug that enhances and emboldens your ideas and beliefs? Well, I was wired on caffeine and listening to Eddie Money’s “Think I’m in Love” (really feeling it) in the car when the thought occurred to me. So, this major-key song was what reinforced my anti-major-key belief. This concept can tie into neoliberalism and other things, but it begs the question: Just how hard is it to get to the truth about the truth?

Libraries & bookstores are a great place to see

Near infinite knowledge for which is almost free

Peaceful places to write & sit & think & learn

Enlightening pages for which I often yearn

Put the brush to your template

And let the feelings flow

In your mind, there’s a great urge

Needing to make a show

Tell the world about your dream

In the mind, there’s a glow

Needing to find the outside

Give of oneself and show