That was a GREAT book, btw. Finished it in three days (which is record time for me).
Now I'm reading a book by Neville Shute called Trustee From The Toolroom.
What are you reading? What was the last book you enjoyed?
- Thread starter Hatter
- Start date
That was a GREAT book, btw. Finished it in three days (which is record time for me).
Now I'm reading a book by Neville Shute called Trustee From The Toolroom.
That was a GREAT freakin' book!!
GO GET IT if you like political thrillers!
EMPIRE by Orson Scott Card
And with that one done, I'm out of books for the month. Having read three, I think I'm going to go watch some TV for a while.
P
Paulatron
Lurker
The Stuff of Thought: language as a window into human nature
by Steven Pinker
by Steven Pinker
I
irisher
Lurker
R
RockPile
Lurker
Devil in the White City - Erik Larson
True tale of the intertwinining fortunes of the lead architect of the Chicago Worlds Fair 1893 and the most notorious serial killer of the age.
True tale of the intertwinining fortunes of the lead architect of the Chicago Worlds Fair 1893 and the most notorious serial killer of the age.
J
job
Lurker
jerseydevil
I'llPutPenniesOnYourEyes
Duma Key...Stephen King
L
lagwagon0
Lurker
and
V
VCRW
Lurker
...a very disturbing but still riveting book.
My current is Polity Agent by Neal Asher to be followed by Physics For Poets by Robert H. March.
L
lvforalice
Lurker
John Adams by David McCullough
I
irisher
Lurker
DLEOS91745
P I M P I N
FAMOUS AUTHORS
PREDICT THE WINNER
OF SUPER BOWL XLII.
BY SHANE RYAN
http://www.mcsweeneys.net/
- - - -
Cormac McCarthy
Overhead, the sun is a wrathful god. It is made to ravage a dying land.
The boy stands in a dry gulch. He tilts his hat to the sting of the wind.
These men are patriots, says The Coach.
I reckon.
Do you know their soul?
Reckon not.
A hoarse laugh echoes through the heat. It singes the cragged escarpments of the red canyon.
You won't be the first, says The Coach.
I ain't scared of you.
Tengo otros cuerpos. Quiero el tuyo.
The Coach wears a bone around his neck. It is hung from dead sinew. Other bones he has ground by pestle and mortar. In the ancient caves he swallowed white dust.
I am here to erase you.
The boy squints at the arroyo bed. The earth is scorched in jagged lines.
It ain't no kind of life, he says.
Overhead, the sun is a wrathful god. It will bake the world.
Prediction: Patriots 27, Giants 6
Raymond Carver
I really admire what the Giants have done this season. It isn't often you see a team struggle early, eke out a series of road wins, and still manage to peak at the perfect moment. It's a rare occurrence, I'll say that much.
On the other side, you've got football's version of Goliath. Experts tell me the Patriots are the strongest team in NFL history. From the moment they beat the Colts, they've been earmarked as Super Bowl Champions. It's tough to pick against an undefeated record.
All that being said, I've been so impressed with Eli Manning's development these last four weeks that I'm willing to take the underdog. What can I say? I believe in the New York Giants.
Prediction: Giants 31, Patriots 28
Raymond Carver, edited by Gordon Lish
It isn't a thing you see often, I'll say that much.
They tell me this is Goliath.
I believe in Giants.
Prediction: G.
Ayn Rand
When he saw Bill Belichick in the hallway before the press conference, Tom Coughlin's face contorted into a whine. "It isn't fair!" he shrieked. "You have all the best players!" he whimpered. "What happened to helping your fellow man?!" he mewled. "You ... all you care about is winning!" he sniveled.
The muscular coach set his prominent jaw, and his hard, handsome eyes glistened. "Why, Tom," he asked with a smile, "isn't winning what the NFL is all about?"
Coughlin's face turned bright red as he flapped his effeminate hands in hysterical gestures. By this time, a large crowd of reporters had gathered. "But, but ... your players are the best in the league! Your offense is unstoppable! How am I supposed to go on the field with my weak players or my simple, predictable playcalling?? We'll be destroyed! I tell you it isn't fair! We deserve to be helped! This is social treason!"
Belichick squared his broad shoulders as he stared Coughlin in the eye. The smaller man cowed and threw his hands to his face in a pathetic flail. "Tom," said Belichick, "I bet nobody has been honest with you in your entire life, so let me be the first. I was taught in the ways of strength. Yes, my men will win today. But it's because we've had the courage to act on our judgment, and the fortitude to trust our decisions. Long ago, we were faced with a choice?the same choice you faced. We chose conviction. You chose impotence. And now, today, you ask me not only to cut my wrists and bleed on your behalf ... oh no. You would also have me fund, design, and build the knife. You accuse me of social treason, and yet you beg me to betray myself." The beautiful man laughed a throaty, attractive laugh. "You are a coward, Tom, and a coward in this world deserves nothing."
With a great cheer, the reporters stood in unison and applauded.
Prediction: Patriots 326, Giants ?27
Jack Kerouac
Like BAM-skip-a-tap young Eli shouts down the line and oh me oh my it's a beautiful thing to behold out in rusty Arizona twilight where American ghosts have come to die and be born again in a land of ten thousandzilliontrillion dry summers nursing the prickles on a cactus's back. Don't sing to me about patriots, old man, because iftheretrulyis agoddamnflagatall it was wrought from what we did not what we said and young Eli knows it without knowing and says it without speaking down on that dusky field all brown and bright green with blueclad muscled lineboys gone berserk and fierce A-FWOP-youaintseennothinyetoldman-CRACK-POP.
Watch while those hard-raised salt-of-this-or-any-other-earth calloused hands uphold what became more than a youngman's idea. Watch them put down those others, oh America, those slinkingshirking fallen boys who for sixty true minutes (may the Blue God bless you one and all) are no kind of patriot I'd ever dream.
Would a man be baptized in all that?
You're goddamn right.
Prediction: Giants35 and a dance in goldendusk
Jane Austen
Hyacinth and amethyst adorned the landscape of her heart, betrothed to fragrant oakmoss and blazing scarlet within the amorous lovestrokes of an incandescent horizon. In the shade of the gray branches, she put pen to paper. "I love you, Tom Brady," it began. "Though others call you wicked."
Prediction: Handsome Tom 46, Stern Aunt Louisa 9
James Joyce
Thusly and thricely slaked he uptrod the spiral staircase and fancied for himself only a briny frieze.
? Give out, Jesuit, or forever in peace may you lie.
Sardonic, sardonic was the smile then adopted. It can twist forever (if the vicars will allow, if the oxen pull the plow).
? Dearly beloved, he quipped through shut mouth, did not Rapunzel cry from on high?
She skipped with a slow whistle to the first stone slab. As at Young Colin's, on the eve of Fata Morgana, all rose quietly. How could it be remiss?
Thanatopsis. Requiescat In Pace.
Prediction: Unclear
PREDICT THE WINNER
OF SUPER BOWL XLII.
BY SHANE RYAN
http://www.mcsweeneys.net/
- - - -
Cormac McCarthy
Overhead, the sun is a wrathful god. It is made to ravage a dying land.
The boy stands in a dry gulch. He tilts his hat to the sting of the wind.
These men are patriots, says The Coach.
I reckon.
Do you know their soul?
Reckon not.
A hoarse laugh echoes through the heat. It singes the cragged escarpments of the red canyon.
You won't be the first, says The Coach.
I ain't scared of you.
Tengo otros cuerpos. Quiero el tuyo.
The Coach wears a bone around his neck. It is hung from dead sinew. Other bones he has ground by pestle and mortar. In the ancient caves he swallowed white dust.
I am here to erase you.
The boy squints at the arroyo bed. The earth is scorched in jagged lines.
It ain't no kind of life, he says.
Overhead, the sun is a wrathful god. It will bake the world.
Prediction: Patriots 27, Giants 6
Raymond Carver
I really admire what the Giants have done this season. It isn't often you see a team struggle early, eke out a series of road wins, and still manage to peak at the perfect moment. It's a rare occurrence, I'll say that much.
On the other side, you've got football's version of Goliath. Experts tell me the Patriots are the strongest team in NFL history. From the moment they beat the Colts, they've been earmarked as Super Bowl Champions. It's tough to pick against an undefeated record.
All that being said, I've been so impressed with Eli Manning's development these last four weeks that I'm willing to take the underdog. What can I say? I believe in the New York Giants.
Prediction: Giants 31, Patriots 28
Raymond Carver, edited by Gordon Lish
It isn't a thing you see often, I'll say that much.
They tell me this is Goliath.
I believe in Giants.
Prediction: G.
Ayn Rand
When he saw Bill Belichick in the hallway before the press conference, Tom Coughlin's face contorted into a whine. "It isn't fair!" he shrieked. "You have all the best players!" he whimpered. "What happened to helping your fellow man?!" he mewled. "You ... all you care about is winning!" he sniveled.
The muscular coach set his prominent jaw, and his hard, handsome eyes glistened. "Why, Tom," he asked with a smile, "isn't winning what the NFL is all about?"
Coughlin's face turned bright red as he flapped his effeminate hands in hysterical gestures. By this time, a large crowd of reporters had gathered. "But, but ... your players are the best in the league! Your offense is unstoppable! How am I supposed to go on the field with my weak players or my simple, predictable playcalling?? We'll be destroyed! I tell you it isn't fair! We deserve to be helped! This is social treason!"
Belichick squared his broad shoulders as he stared Coughlin in the eye. The smaller man cowed and threw his hands to his face in a pathetic flail. "Tom," said Belichick, "I bet nobody has been honest with you in your entire life, so let me be the first. I was taught in the ways of strength. Yes, my men will win today. But it's because we've had the courage to act on our judgment, and the fortitude to trust our decisions. Long ago, we were faced with a choice?the same choice you faced. We chose conviction. You chose impotence. And now, today, you ask me not only to cut my wrists and bleed on your behalf ... oh no. You would also have me fund, design, and build the knife. You accuse me of social treason, and yet you beg me to betray myself." The beautiful man laughed a throaty, attractive laugh. "You are a coward, Tom, and a coward in this world deserves nothing."
With a great cheer, the reporters stood in unison and applauded.
Prediction: Patriots 326, Giants ?27
Jack Kerouac
Like BAM-skip-a-tap young Eli shouts down the line and oh me oh my it's a beautiful thing to behold out in rusty Arizona twilight where American ghosts have come to die and be born again in a land of ten thousandzilliontrillion dry summers nursing the prickles on a cactus's back. Don't sing to me about patriots, old man, because iftheretrulyis agoddamnflagatall it was wrought from what we did not what we said and young Eli knows it without knowing and says it without speaking down on that dusky field all brown and bright green with blueclad muscled lineboys gone berserk and fierce A-FWOP-youaintseennothinyetoldman-CRACK-POP.
Watch while those hard-raised salt-of-this-or-any-other-earth calloused hands uphold what became more than a youngman's idea. Watch them put down those others, oh America, those slinkingshirking fallen boys who for sixty true minutes (may the Blue God bless you one and all) are no kind of patriot I'd ever dream.
Would a man be baptized in all that?
You're goddamn right.
Prediction: Giants35 and a dance in goldendusk
Jane Austen
Hyacinth and amethyst adorned the landscape of her heart, betrothed to fragrant oakmoss and blazing scarlet within the amorous lovestrokes of an incandescent horizon. In the shade of the gray branches, she put pen to paper. "I love you, Tom Brady," it began. "Though others call you wicked."
Prediction: Handsome Tom 46, Stern Aunt Louisa 9
James Joyce
Thusly and thricely slaked he uptrod the spiral staircase and fancied for himself only a briny frieze.
? Give out, Jesuit, or forever in peace may you lie.
Sardonic, sardonic was the smile then adopted. It can twist forever (if the vicars will allow, if the oxen pull the plow).
? Dearly beloved, he quipped through shut mouth, did not Rapunzel cry from on high?
She skipped with a slow whistle to the first stone slab. As at Young Colin's, on the eve of Fata Morgana, all rose quietly. How could it be remiss?
Thanatopsis. Requiescat In Pace.
Prediction: Unclear
arizonabay
Prospect
Shakespeare's Sonnets.
KingsPride
What The Krap
Sword Song by Bernard Cornwell.
jerseydevil
I'llPutPenniesOnYourEyes
About halfway through this:
LOVE IT.
sorry if this posts twice...I tried earlier but it ain't here
anyway, you continue to impress me Adgy-San...Lansdale may be the best American author of our time...If you haven't read the Hap'n'Leonard series (Two-Bear Mambo,Bad Chili,Rumble-Tumble) you should...
Just finished this(w/tears in my eyes). I know it's become standard to bash the Master...but I still covet anything he writes. His work has become so much more relaxed since his retirement and this is a classic example. Is it horror??? Not entirely. Is it Shawshank/Stand-by-Me ish??? Li'lbit...What it is is a really well written and melancholy book dealing with loss. I really hope that Frank Darabont reads this because he could make another great film outta this. 5-stars people...and all the S.K.-haters...who gripe about "weak" endings...sometimes it is all about the voyage...not the destination.
And if you haven't read the Dark-Tower series...do yourself a favor...I envy you.
:Barney_2: there can be only one!!!!
