Hiromi_X

I decided not to work from now until the move.

I had planned to work right up until the day I left to make as much money as possible, but Fuck It. The past three years have been TAXING as hell, and I plan to get in as much quality sloth time as possible in the next month.

I'm going to read whenever I want; I need to recapture my intellectual curiosity, which has recently been limited to things like figuring out who's going to be eliminated in each episode of Top Chef. In the past week, I read Generation Kill and finally finished The Omnivore's Dilemma and Inside the Victorian Home: A Portrait of Life in Victorian England.

Now, I will start Civilization, which has been sitting on my bookshelf for over a year. However, as I read the table of contents a little while ago, I started to feel sorry I bought the book. The book, while critical, doesn't really question the conceit of "Western Civilization." Can you draw a direct line from ancient Greece/Rome to The West, as he apparently does? And even more basic than that, can you lump a bunch of shit together under that monolithic category? Given that, how far does he distance himself from Samuel Huntington? Well, I guess I'll find out when I start reading it.

I'm going to swim regularly, maybe practice my butterfly stroke. I bought a month's membership at a gym, so I'll do some weight work and do some reading on the elliptical machine and stationary bikes. I spent 1 hr 15 min on those machines last week, not 'cause I like them, but because I was so fascinated by the description of a sustainable farming operation in The Omnivore's Dilemma, a farming system modeled on nature. Stopping exercise would have meant an interruption in my reading! I said "farming operation," but it isn't as prosaic as that term sounds; it's a creation of sheer beauty possessed of wondrous symmetry. It restored my faith in humanity, even. My feet were numb when I got off the elliptical and I went on to numb my ass on the bike.

I'm going to figure out ways to make vegetables interesting. I'm tired of interesting salads. I want interesting *cooked* vegetables. Anyone know of an excellent vegetable cookbook?

Heh. I guess "Sloth" really isn't a proper name for this post. I guess "Pleasurable Projects" is a more accurate description.

Posted by Hiromi at 12:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (12)

I'm in a lame duck phase. I'm easing out of my current work and am anxiously waiting to start over in the summer. I'm also reluctant to start anything new social-wise, since I'm leaving anyway. I'm even reluctant to start buying anything, so I won't have more stuff to move.

I'm putting off announcing my departure at AA meetings and my sexual assault support group. Due to some issues with my bike and a lack of proper cold weather/rain gear, I haven't been to many meetings. It's strange that I'm reluctant to say at a meeting, "I tried to kill myself twenty months ago, but now long-cherished dreams are coming true."

Instead of saying my goodbyes, I've pressed the pause button on my life. I've got House of Leaves in my reading queue; I'm halfway through David Simon's The Corner, having just finished Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets (I watched the series but never finished the book).

The season finale of The Wire was on Sunday and last week for Project Runway, but as their replacements I'll have John Adams, based on David McCullough's book, on HBO and season four of Top Chef. I read John Adams while in Japan in an attempt to address my ignorance of American history prior to the Civil War, and I have a thing for period dramas.

Diet root beer and a bowl of buttered popcorn at hand, I watched the premiere of Top Chef last night. Again, you could tell by Bravo's editing who would be eliminated. They highlighted the chick's insecurities and her reluctance to be one of the gang. I've decided that I will not trust Bravo's depiction of the contestants. They've got reams of footage and they decide to include footage that highlights conflict and general assholery. Their editing shades Dale as another Asian Alpha Male a la Hung, and they highlighted tension and anger between the two crab cake guys (their names escape me). Previews for upcoming episodes featured profanity, yelling, and the like. Come the fuck on, Bravo. Let's see more food and more cooking and less stupid bullshit.

The premiere dove right into product placements with Pizzeria Uno, the Kenmore Kitchen, and jars labeled "Whole Foods." I'm surprised the lockers weren't branded somehow. The quick fire was sadly predicable -- make your own deep dish -- but I liked the Kiwi's use of marmite and I'd love to try the peach-sausage pizza with sweet tea reduction. The others resorted to typical pizza fare, including a foray into feta cheese pizza. I *hate* feta cheese on pizza. I also hate chicken on pizza. Some things are just wrong, people!

The elimination challenge was a good one, thankfully: they put the contestants in pairs and had them go head to head cooking eight classic dishes. I was glad Erik wasn't eliminated. I loved how he said "I made glorified nachos, and I'm not proud of it," and so I'm firmly on his side, although self-taught chefs don't do well on this show.

Next week, they're apparently cooking for the visitors to a zoo. I can't imagine cooking with the scent of guano in the air. Gross!

Posted by Hiromi at 2:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (20)

I'm one of Those People who say "I don't read fiction," but I want another Mystic Pig-like experience. While you can find fascinating characters and stories in non-fiction, there's something different about the experience of reading literature. I've broadened my horizons by reading in various disciplines -- history, political science, the natural sciences, among others -- and through travel and other direct experiences. Literature does something those things don't. Not exactly sure what it is, though.

I'd like y'all to recommend one, and only one, work of fiction that grabbed you by the lapels and didn't let go or else whispered softly in your ears for days after you finished reading it. Also explain a little as to why.

Only one, preeze.

Posted by Hiromi at 8:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (29)

I finished this book (295 pages) in eight hours with only a bag of dried mango slices for sustenance, I loved it so much. Written by Richard Katrovas, it's beautiful and elegiac, yet also really funny at times, and even vividly appetizing -- he slips in very welcome passages about the preparation of food. How can you not love characters who know food? And he creates one of the most lovable young characters I've encountered in a long time, a scrappy, resourceful, and indomitable 12 year old boy who almost steals the whole book.

I'm the third Moronospherean to read this book; Karl, I believe, recommended it to Ray, who then sent a copy to me. It's out of print, unfortunately, and not that easy to find, so even if your curiosity has been piqued, I'm not sure you'll get to read it. The problem is, you can't really discuss the heart of this book without divulging its secret. I want to stress that the secret isn't some shlocky M. Night Shyamalan "gotcha" device. The secret slowly unfolds as it becomes increasingly difficult for the central character, Nat, to keep it under wraps.

I'm not going to divulge the secret right now, but it's difficult to not talk about the book because I felt such a shock of recognition and sympathy. However, this is one of those books that if you know every twist of the plot, you will definitely lose the satisfaction of seeing how it resolves itself. On one level, you are able to make general predictions: something is not right with Nat, and you know that the two story lines Katrovas establishes will converge or are related in some way, so there's no huge surprise when they connect. But the way that he resolves it is not entirely apparent, and it's a pleasure to wait to see how it unfolds.

The book raised for me really interesting questions. I suppose that if you're bound and determined to read it, then you might want to stop reading now to avoid any spoilers. I put my discussion under the "read more" link below.

Update: Keep in mind that if you click to comment, the text of the entire post will appear, so don't scroll up.

Continue reading "Mystic Pig" »

Posted by Hiromi at 6:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (13)

I spent all day yesterday and will spend today just reading for pleasure. I read books like I watch movies; I like to devour them in one sitting without interruption, which makes reading for pleasure incompatible with my other love, cooking for pleasure. I immerse myself in words until hunger pangs send me into the kitchen for a hastily assembled leftover turkey sandwich or to pop a frozen pizza in the oven (my favorite: Amy's Cheese Pizza). I haven't done this in a long, long time.

Posted by Hiromi at 1:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I'm both shocked and entranced. I love books to the point that they've become almost totemic to me, but Brian Dettmer mutilates them beautifully.

Click here for more, and larger, examples of his work. Thanks to Ben for the link.

Posted by Hiromi at 11:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Here's an issue that continually vexes the thoughtful: Why don't Americans read? It gets blamed on TV, the internet, bad schools, whatever. I think it's more fundamental than that. The following quote is taken from this article:

Patricia S. Schroeder, president and chief executive of the Association of American Publishers, said part of the problem could be that adults can make children feel that reading is a duty. A common complaint she hears from children and young adults is that few books relate to their lives or interests. "Reading is not really easy," she said, "unless they get into something they want to read about."

That is exactly a characteristic of people who don't read, regardless of income or educational background. They're incurious. We readers don't think that learning and expanding your horizons is a duty. It's a worthwhile, satisfying, even FUN pursuit in its own right.

I read to learn things I don't know. I want to go places I've never been. I want to live lives I'll never live. I want to think thoughts I wouldn't have come up with on my own. I want to hear other voices. And even if non-readers claim to want the same things, if it takes effort, then they lose interest. In other words, at rock bottom, they don't care. This is why I don't get along too well with non-readers -- frankly, I feel sorry for them. How narrow and impoverished their inner lives must be.

Article from Rufus, Literacy Crusader Extraordinaire.

Posted by Hiromi at 1:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (30)

At the bookstore this past weekend, I noticed signs for vouchers and whatnot for Harry Potter VII. Honestly, I've lost a lot of interest in Harry, just like I lost interest in Tony Soprano. It's possible to wait too frickin long between episodes. And I resented the fact that the Asian chick ended up being so lame. Dumbledore (I've always hated that name) better not do an Obi-wan or an Aslan or a Bobby Ewing. I hope Harry kills Voldemort, and then steps into his shoes. Not in the sense of a straightforwad coup, but kill him to rid the world of his evil, but then slowly and surely become like him in the end. Wait a minute...I'm just recyling how I wanted Star Wars Episodes I-III to turn out...

Posted by Hiromi at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)

I recently went to the public library for the first time since I was a kid. The only libraries I've been to as an adult have been university libraries, so seeing the Dewey Decimal system again was really quaint. It didn't occur to me to go to a library until someone suggested it to me. I guess that says a lot about how I used to spend a big chunk of my disposable income, but now that I have a lot less income, I've rediscovered libraries.

However, since I haven't read for pleasure in months and months, I can't think of any additional books to check out. I was hoping y'all would recommend one book you've read recently. I just got done reading Dry (Augusten Burroughs), I'm trying to find a copy of Civilization (Roger Osborne), and I have The God Delusion (Richard Dawkins), if that gives you an idea of my reading interests. I'm not into sci-fi, graphic novels, or fantasy (I like only Lord of the Rings). General fiction, memoirs, history, sociology, and science are welcome.

Posted by Hiromi at 10:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (21)

I look at science the opposite way that I look at sex: I'd rather read about it than do it. Science was my favorite subject in high school, but when I got to the university level, I realized that there are few places I hate more than a lab. I was also permanently traumatized by organic chemistry. Anyway, about today's post: Rufus is always good for a nerd reference or two. Discover Magazine has compiled a list of the 25 Greatest Science Books of all Time. Like Rufus, I was surprised to see how many of these I've actually read, which kind of makes up for reading (and seeing) only the Shakespeare plays that were assigned in high school. I totally applaud Discover's choice of Charles Darwin's The Origin of the Species as number one. That book was actually tied for first with The Voyage of the Beagle, which I guess was included as a sort of Silmarillion to the Lord of the Rings of Origin. The elegance of Darwin's observations and the fact that he managed to create a grand unifying theory for biology indisputably puts him on any Top 10 science list, but there is a vitally important political reason to put him on top.

Anyway, the list has a kind of trickle-down feeling to it. First, there are towering figures like Aristotle, Newton, Copernicus/Galileo (I think of them as a unit -- you can't name one without the other), and Einstein. It seems like all the "big" discoveries have already been made, and now everyone is refining this or that subfield, which is fine, but kind of anticlimactic.

Also, the editors are dealing with books rather than actual scientific discoveries, which makes for strange bedfellows. Along with the groundbreakers, you have nontheoretical popularizations by Richard Feynman and Carl Sagan. Also, it looks like no great books have been written on chemistry, medicine is represented by only On the Fabric of the Human Body, and what about paleontology? There are a shitload of paleontology books. And it's strange to me that The Interpretation of Dreams was not included, but Gaia was. Ah well, it's easier to bitch about a Top 25 list than it is to make one.

Posted by Hiromi at 9:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Speaking of topless people with cloths tied around their middles, I re-read Heart of Darkness recently. Are they still assigning this book in high school English classes? That was the last time I read it, and I liked its illustration of the slide of so-called civilized people into barbarism.

But this time, I had to keep reminding myself that it's a 19th century book to prevent myself from vomiting. It was progressive at the time it was written, I'm sure, but geezus... When the Africans speak, it's in grunts; when they are given words, it's a demand to eat human flesh. They are referred to as "prehistoric man," as savages. Marlow (the narrator) says,

[T[hey were not inhuman...that was the worst of it - this suspicion of their not being inhuman...They howled and leaped, and spun, and made horrid faces; but what thrilled you was just the thought of their humanity - like yours - the thought of your remote kinship with this wild and passionate uproar. Ugly.

Basically, Joseph Conrad puts European man at the apex of human evolution, and the Africans at the bottom. He makes it clear, though, that they have a shared origin. Although European men managed to evolve from the darkness into the light (the story opens on the Thames, and there is all this damn light imagery), he risks slipping back into his own primordial savagery through contact with savages.

That is what bothered me. It was not the exploitation and brutalization of other human beings for economic gain that dehumanized and de-civilized the Europeans involved in colonialism, although Conrad questions the legitimacy of their ventures. At any rate, it was their proximity to darkness that did it.

Is it a great book? Yes. Should it be taught in schools? Hell yes. It would be ridiculous for me to expect Joseph Conrad to write with the sensibilities of a leftist minority female living in the United States in the early 21st century. His work still asks important and relevant questions: How do groups of "superior" people act when given power over people they consider "inferior?" What happens when you remove a "civilized" person from civilization and place him where there are few restraints? It's a case study on the human capacity for evil, and a very well-written one at that.

I bring this up because of this article that Carlton linked to in this post. A proposed bill in Arizona would require public universities to provide alternative coursework for students who find the assigned readings "'personally offensive,' which is defined as something that 'conflicts with the student’s beliefs or practices in sex, morality or religion.'"

So, my point is, I find the racist construction of Africa offensive, but I'm not going to try to force Heart of Darkness from the classrooms. Disturbing thoughts are *good*. That's what ejamacation is all about.

Posted by Hiromi at 7:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (30)

Okay, the reading-in-panties photos are kind of cheesy, but promoting literacy is important. "The Pile" came up in conversation several times this week; meaning, the pile of books you've got lying around the house but haven't gotten to yet. Plus, if you can't think of anything to write about, you can always make a list.

Books I got, but ain't read yet:

Murakami Haruki, Kafka on the Shore
Lynne Truss, Eats, Shoots & Leaves
Edward Tenner, Why Things Bite Back: Technology and the Revenge of Unintended Consequences
Howard Kunstler, Geography of Nowhere: The Rise and Decline of America's Man-made Landscape
Jared Diamond, Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed
John Dower, War without Mercy

Taking a poll: What's on your nightstand, or in your bathroom, or wherever? Bookwise, that is.

Posted by Hiromi at 7:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (34)

Cool: Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans is ready for pre-order up through January 6. Our Ray of Ray in Austin contributed "I was a Teenage Float Grunt" and a recipe to this compilation of essays written about New Orleans by New Orleanians. Shipping is free, by the way.

Pre-order and support a relief organization working there and an independent publisher. The same publisher, Chin Music Press, also released Kuhaku, a collection of essays on Japan, which was excellent. And I'm real picky about stuff written on Japan.

Posted by Hiromi at 3:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)