We made it through 2 hours of soccer practice before Pukefest 2007 began; first Lexi, then Zack. We have been spared by the Vomitgods until recently, nothing for years. Yay, lucky us. Then over Memorial weekend, Lexi redecorated our friends' bathroom in the middle of the night. (Such a resourceful girl, working the late shift.) Zack treated his bed, his room, my room and the bathroom to a makeover that took all morning to make right again.
Can you smell the Lysol?
So, we are watching Star Wars, waiting for Aunt Lori to run some popsicles to our doorstep.
While I am charming you with tales of gore and wretchedness, let me tell you about some books I just read: Rant: An Oral Biography of Buster Casey and Blindness.
I began Rant shortly after going to the Palahniuk reading in Portland, but couldn't get past page 30. I was disappointed. I don't fancy this style of writing - different characters 'tell' the story in turn - it feels disjointed. I took a break, read Blindness, and came back to it. Leave it to Palahniuk to come up with some crazy things like a health crisis from a Superspreader of a drug resistant form of rabies, or a fella that uses black widow spider bites to bring about priapism, a natural Viagra of sorts. Then days later, the news was crawling with the Andrew Speaker story and this tidbit about spiders in Chile. Palahniuk seems to be 2 steps ahead of the headlines. I hope the next title is written in good ol' prose.
Blindness was a turn-off at first glance. The translation from Portuguese to English comes with long paragraphs of dialogue with nary a quotation mark in sight. It hurt my head. It's a dark allegorical tale (couldn't resist) about a blindness that sweeps a city, leaving the inhabitants desperate and starving. I wish I could say that it was heavy-handed, that rape and murder and government tyranny wouldn't happen during a widespread crisis, but I am too cynical today. (Remember, I am not feeling groovy on the inside.) It is a worthy read, worthy of the Nobel prize it garnered. I picked up the sequel, Seeing, from the library. I'll let you know how it goes.
Still feeling happy? Rent Hannibal Rising; it'll bring you down. Rising did not meet critical or commercial success, but I thought it was better than the brain-eating Hannibal . The childhood story of Hannibal Lecter of Silence of the Lambs fame is horrifying. Think World War II famine in Lithuania, loss of family, loss of hope. There was a part of me that felt pity for him early in the movie, watching him lose his humanity. But at some point the young Hannibal becomes the monster that taunts Jodie Foster in later years, and how he got there fades away.
That's all the grimness I can muster in one sitting. Tomorrow I will turn to unicorns and pastel pink lollies, for your reading pleasure.
Edited to add: Blindness is being brought to the big screen.
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