Monday, August 15, 2016

Roth's Owl

Some of you may think I'm "blogging" again. Well, I'm not! But can I help it if every book I read has an owl in it? It's my curse! This Philip Roth book has a collegiate coffee shop called "The Owl." (It is also the eighth book I have read with Jell-O in it, including another one by Roth.)

Friday, August 12, 2016

Drunk Smurf Ox

Even though I have stopped "blogging" there are some things that must be "blogged" because there is no place else to put them. Here we see the foam letters from Jon Host's shower, for example. They have been there since time immemorial. "The challenge is to use ALL 24 letters," Jon writes. "Consonant blends are a must. Shrek is a popular subject, as are hex and jab. Abbreviations are discouraged. I wish I had been cataloging them all these years." I count just 23 letters in this one, I am sad to report.

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Pepper, Montana and Rio

You know I'm not "blogging" anymore, but I do have to "blog" about McNeil at least once a month so I'll have something to fill out his yearly birthday tribute. Well, McNeil alerted me to the fact that Dean Martin's son just died. I read in the obituary that Dean Martin's granddaughters are named Pepper, Montana and Rio!

Tuesday, August 09, 2016

If You Get a Chance

"If you get a chance, you ought to look for the owls." Thus do the owls first appear in this Stephen King novel BAG OF BONES I'm reading. You know me! I'm the fella who finds owls in every book he reads, so it's like the character was talking straight to me. The owls in question are plastic owls, just like the one in GRINGOS by Charles Portis, and in conclusion I will remind you that I have read every book by Charles Portis and every book by Charles Portis has an owl in it.

Friday, July 22, 2016

Experiments in Intercourse

First of all, relax! There is nothing at all wrong with the "blog." The culprit that drove me mad was just a curious virus that only I could see, infecting a particular browser in the hotel's business center... the very business center immortalized (in a tastefully fictionalized version, of course) in my almost-new book MOVIE STARS, suddenly the toast of New York town! I, however, was out in Los Angeles, and I brought my jotting book of precious jottings, but in my new anti-"blogging" spirit, I jotted nearly nothing on my trip. And yes, I made that decision out of pure spite! Okay, I will tell you one thing. Julia and I walked up to Ako and I said, "Ako, tell Julia what you told me about the miraculous powers of coconuts!" And Ako shouted with hilarious urgency, "IT'S NOT TRUE!" It turns out that I have been going around telling lies that Ako accidentally told me about the miraculous powers of coconuts. One day, as she related to us ruefully, she was telling the same story when it dawned on her with the force of epiphany how suspicious it sounded. So she looked it up and was mortified at the extent to which she had been misleading an innocent coconut-buying public for so many years. Then she explained to Julia and me what the powers of coconuts REALLY are, and to be honest, the coconuts still sounded pretty miraculous. Okay, I feel bad for you, so I am going to tell you two funny things from the airplane ride home. There was a peperoncino garnishing the plate of food they gave me. So I bit into it. It was just a small, ordinary peperoncino but it seemed to contain an abundance of juice. The amazing quantity of juice expelled even by my rather timid bite squirted all over my personal airplane video screen. It even squirted onto the ceiling over the passengers in front of me! So it dripped down on them and they urgently pressed the button to summon the harried flight attendant. "The airplane is leaking bright green fluid!" they told her. "We're doomed!" Or words to that effect. So I had to confess that I had squirted the peperoncino juice that had rained down on them like the stinging hot portent of a deadly malfunction. Then I was enjoying THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON by H.G. Wells, my chosen airplane reading, and I suddenly came to a chapter called - in embarrassingly big letters - "Experiments in Intercourse"! Ha ha! So I put my thumb over the word "intercourse" so the guy in the next seat wouldn't think I was reading something too sexy for an airplane. Wells just meant that his heroes were trying to find a way to communicate with the moon men. He didn't mean anything dirty! He meant "intercourse" in the sense of "communication." That's how people talked back in crazy times! But I hid it with my thumb anyway. Okay, I'll tell you two more things. Look at this picture. Adam says it's okay to show it now. I was going to wait until season seven of our show had concluded. There are still two more wildly surprising episodes to come but Adam says the titles are out there in the public now and everybody knows them so it doesn't matter. Well, some quite literal spy took this spy picture with her sneaky spy camera very early in the season and spread it around the "internet" without compunction, our most personal and private business, including some very revealing episode titles, though I don't believe I've given a large enough representation for you to see them. But the funny part is the map of Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha County that's on the wall. Look and you will see it! You may furthermore recall when it was presented to Kent and Pen. Scores of young detectives taken in by this remorseless charlatan and thief thought it was some kind of map of a previously unknown territory of Ooo, the land where ADVENTURE TIME occurs - as did, no doubt, the budding Mata Hari herself. Well, there are probably tons of 13-year-olds all inspired and debating ABSALOM, ABSALOM! now, propelled forward by their initially misguided researches - so everything turned out all right; aren't you as sure of it as I am? In my preferred version of these events, the emotionless miscreant helped everybody learn and grow even though she was trying to hurt and spoil! I'll finish up with something I've been sitting on for a month or so because I don't care about you anymore. I started reading a book called THE YEAR OF LEAR, about KING LEAR, sort of, and it has owls in it, but not even the same owls that KING LEAR has in it! Some other owls. Thomas Dekker is describing a miserable denizen of a plague house: "And to keep such a poor wretch waking, he should hear no noise but of toads croaking, screech-owls howling, mandrakes shrieking."

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

I Feel Bad

[Before you read this and get all worked up, it's fine now. We're preserving it because historians of the future will need to know. - ed.] Hey! It looks like some weirdos have hacked my blog and added a bunch of links to shady-looking websites. So please don't click on any of links you see here, even though most of my links are great! But none of them can be trusted right now. I have not put any links in this post, for example, so if any appear, they were placed here by some criminal who is probably just trying to feed his or her family by selling - as far as I can tell - cheap clothes, cigarette lighters and knockoff Pop Tarts. I love you all and will try to fix my blog when I get home from Los Angeles. If I can't fix it I'm just going to delete the whole thing, yes, the whole darn blog, even though I worked on it for ten years and it is the only way I can remember anything that ever happened to me during that time period. So enjoy it while you can, if "enjoy" is the right word. I'm in the very lobby where I once saw Garry Marshall and now he is dead. I was going to link to that very remembrance [like so - ed.] but the post is riddled with suspicious commerce and mysterious links to shady enterprises. I will mention that this very day Kent and I sat in his office and watched Garry Marshall's scene in LOST IN AMERICA for inspiration. Normally I would put a hyperlink on Kent's name and it would be fun for everyone to click on Kent's name and see all the wonderful waggery [like this. - ed.] he has gotten up to over the years. But criminals - and the lax security robots of the Google corporation, I suppose, who make it impossible to speak to a sympathetic human person - have conspired to ruin everything we hold dear. Well, anyway, Donald Trump is running for president and just look what happens.

Wednesday, July 06, 2016

Listen to the Owls

You'll understand why I'm breaking my silence! I'm reading the new Shirley Jackson bio recommended by Megan Abbott, even though I read a different Shirley Jackson bio just a few years ago. This one has owls in it! I would never be surprised by the sudden appearance of owls in a book having anything to do with Shirley Jackson. Shirley Jackson says that her publisher has "an owlish aspect" and within a page or two she is comparing herself to an owl as well. Finally, some hundred pages or so later, we get actual owls. "Shirley liked to sit and listen to the owls calling outside," we are informed.