Global warming. Political hotbed.

If this article about Tom Brokaw's Discovery Channel special on global warming tonight, weren't so sad and scary, it would be hilarious. You can see from the seal above, that the Senate Committe already has a skewed view of the world. Or...is the Capitol building really that close to the mountains???

I'm not a scientist and I have no political stake in this issue. However, as a reasonably intelligent and observant human being, I can't ignore these points: weather patterns these days are seriously out of whack from the norm which we all know; it's much, much easier to get a sunburn at the beach, riding your bike, or with your arm sticking out the car window on a drive; enormous glaciers that have been on earth longer than we have, are suddenly disappearing. And what about all the cars and factories and homes and businesses that are heated and air-conditioned each day, how can we not think that we're generating a lot of CO2?

No matter what side of the political fence your possibly lazy asses are sitting on, you need to be aware of what you're doing to this gorgeous orb you call home! It's not hard to do little things that will help in big ways, if enough of us participate.

- People are not fresh meat, therefore they don't need to be refrigerated. Turn down the A.C.!
- You keep whining about your weight. Hop out of the SUV and walk to the supermarket.
- On SUV's: What happened to the good ole station wagon?
Do college kids need to drive tanks? Parents, what are you thinking?!?
Shouldn't there be a luxury tax on every one of those that comes into a city?
- Building a new home? Think about using some solar energy.
- Do you recycle?

I'm probably preaching to the choir here, but I can't just sit back and not say anything. Thanks to my friend, Jim Corrigan, for passing on the article by the U.S. Senate Committee on Environment and Public Works. As he pointed out, it's our (yes, even if you're an independent or a democrat) tax dollars at "work."


Ok, how 'bout this for a fun and environmentally positive pursuit? In Harwich, MA, you can take your friends or family (or both...or maybe they're one in the same) and go diggin' for clams! You have to get a license, but it's a cheap date at $15/day or $30 for the year. And don't worry, the town replenishes the beds every year with about 2 million baby clams. Not only is this good exercise out in the fresh ocean air, but you'll be communing with and learning about nature, and you'll be providing your own sustenance! When was the last time you did that?
Just don't forget the double digit sunscreen.

Was all this leading up to some chit chat about books on the environment? No. Not this entry. The books I want to tell you about now have been culled from a cool magazine I get, call The Week. If you like to get your news from a variety of sources in a succint manner, this magazine is for you. You'll get a bit of everything--political analysis, world news, gossip, real estate, money matters, reviews of books, movies, music, theatre and art...and that's just naming a few of the things covered. There are articles from all over the world, so you don't just get the American point of view. It's a really splendid publication.

Advertisement over, though, and on to the books~
The "Novel of the Week" sounds wonderful, if you're a fan--like me--of magic realism. Any author who's likened to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, is one I'd like to have a look at...and will.

There's another book section called "The Book List", to which I'm having trouble linking right now. Maybe they're just having some heavy traffic or maintenance. You should be able to have a look at it if you click the link above and go to "the list" on the left-hand column. However, if you can't, here's the roundup on that:
The books this week were chosen by author, Robert N. Butler, who won a Pulitzer Price in 1976 for his book, Why Survive? Being Old in America. The books he's named below are his favorites about the "struggle for liberty."
Rights of Man by Thomas Paine
On Liberty by John Stuart Mill
A Room of One's Own by Virginai Woolf
The Road to Serfdom by E.A. Hayek
Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela
Freedom From Fear by David M. Kennedy

Not really beach reading, but in light of the article that started this session, well worth the time, I'd imagine.

~Fischlipps

Oh, to be lying in a hammock reading...

I was just listening to Nancy Pearl, talking on WBUR about books to call in sick for. I can't seem to find the link to that piece yet, but check out Nancy's site. Not only is she a riot, but she's really smart, and you can't go wrong taking her advice on what to read.

And while you're just hanging out, you might want to pick up Telegraph Days by Larry McMurtry, the author of Lonesome Dove. I'm not usually much for cowboy books or movies...those guys never seemed to be romancing anyone other than their horses. However, in this newest novel, Harry Levins at the St. Louis Post Dispatch goes so far as to wonder if the author has turned into "a dirty old man." He doesn't seem to cotton much to the book, but it sounds like it could be a great beach read, if you ask me. It's been awhile since I've read anything by McMurtry, but I loved his style, his humor and his ability to make cowboys more than gnarly, dusty, under-sexed and stoic figures on a horse.

~Fischlipps

More Almond delight...

In an earlier entry, praising Steve Almond for taking a moral stand about Condoleeza Rice speaking at BC's graduation ceremony, I also mentioned his new book and said I'd say a little more about it once I finished reading it. Well, I finished awhile ago, and just haven't had the time to remark, but here's what I think...

Julianna Baggott co-wrote "Which Brings Me to You" with Steve. Both are accomplished writers with other books to their credit and lots of devotees, of which I'm one. In this current duet of a novel, Julianna's writing is good--real good. But for a decent chunk of the book, it's kind of self-conscious. You can tell she's trying. I don't know if this was intentional or not, but if you think about it, it works. The story is that of two people getting to know each other through (often the subtext of their) letters. As Julianna went along, she became more and more herself and less the person she was trying to convey. Since she and Steve hadn't ever written together before, perhaps this was them getting to know each other, as well.

Steve, on the other hand, is so natural in his writing, that it feels as if you're in his head, listening to his thoughts, or living his memories right along side him. He gives more in his exchanges, and does it without asking for anything back or trying to make a certain impression. Sometimes Julianna seemed to be trying to evoke a response or seek approval...or disapproval. Steve just told the story simply, honestly, lushly.

Here are a couple examples:
Julianna/Jane wrote...

"So now the difficult part. I'm supposed to be mantling things here. (Why only dismantle? Why not mantle every once in awhile?)

"I'm afraid that there are endless versions of my self--one broke Michael Hanrahan's heart and let him go racing off on a wet night into a telephone pole, one deserted Elton Birch becuase she wanted to survive, one was a sweet, innocent housemaid in Paris, and one punched Pascal in the mouth in a bus station. I am afraid that I'm like my mother, and I feel sorry for my father, who fell in love with a debate team champ, a debutante, and that's not who she turned out to be at all. I'm afraid that someone will fall in love with one version of me, but that version will shift and change until a new me emerges, maybe wholly from an old wound. It's a confession. It's a warning.

"I broke a finger when I punched Pascal in the face. It hurt like hell. It turned fat and blue. I didn't go to the doctor. I didn't get i it X-rayed. I just let it pain me until eventually one day it didn't pain me anymore. It healed crookedly, and so now when I try to point out a direction straight ahead, my finger is veering off center to some unintended locale."

To which Steve/John replies...

"Dear Sonny Liston,

I am going to restrain myself, just barely, from making any cracks about your French maid outfit. You're raising a serious concern and all I can say, really, is that the past is always too much. That's what makes the past such a tough customer. One minute you're waltzing down memory lane, the next you're beseiged by what could have been. Pascal doesn't sound like a guy who would have survived your twenties. But who knows? And, at any rate, the possibility of Pascal persists. He remains dreamy and tender, bathed in milk and bleeding from the mouth. (Note to self: Jane punches. Hard.)"

Or in a later letter, Steve/John wrote:
"So, for instance, last time around, when you wrote, He had practiced skill, but those don't impress me, I scribbled in the margins: Oh, thank God! And when you wrote, I don't have to tell you what it's like ot have sex with a woman, I wrote back, Well then, I'm not going to tell you what it's like to have sex with a man. And when you asked whether we were actually sharing some kind of epistolary confessional booth, I slipped into a pair of lacey black underthings and--wait a second, scratch that. What I did was jot down a joke my dad once told me which goes like this:
Old Jewish man slips into a confessional booth and says the the young priest, "Father! Father! I'm ninety-six years old and I just made love to a girl who's twenty!"
"But sir," the priest says, "this is a Cahtolic church. Why are you telling me this?"
"What do you mean? I'm telling everyone!"

"I could go on, but counterpunching only gets you so far. I've got business to take care of, more splendid ruin to unspool.

"Let me say, though, before we duck back into the confessional--Say, what are you wearing over there? Am I the only one in this booth wearing sexy underwear?--that I don't blame you for getting into it with the Paglias. not one little dirty-girl bit. If I put myself in your shoes (what size are you again?) It feels like a no-brainer. Those Paglias, they were full of love, sexy and sure of themselves, destructive, sure, but in a way that offered an expansion of your world. That's what you seem to be after."

Anyway, that's just a tiny bit from the book. It's so rich in foibles, so funny and sad, so unabashedly human in its regret and longing. It is a truly wonderful read, for both women and men.

By the way, do you know that according to research, men read very little fiction?

Anyway, it's a great summer read, a great couples read (those are rare) and a great read for anyone trying to learn how to write. You won't find two young authors more worthy of both your enjoyment and your close observation. These two know their stuff. Head out to your favorite independent bookstore today, the start of a long, lazy weekend, and get yourself a copy of Which Brings Me to You.

That's all for now. Off to camp in New Hampshire and start reading Louis Bayard's The Pale Blue Eye. Anyone read it yet?

~Fischlipps