Summer Reading

It's great being out of college. I finally have the freedom to read anything I want without worrying about catching up on "assigned reading." Don't get me wrong I loved reading for class, I got to read a whole bunch of stuff I wouldn't typically pick up, but it does feels good to be able to read with a conscience void of term papers and write-ups. Lately, I haven't been reading as much as I'd like, because I've been job hunting, but now that I'm officially alright with being unemployed and broke as hell, I've come back to my favorite pass time. Here's what I've been reading:



The Worldly Philosophers: The Lives, Times and Ideas of The Great Economic Thinkers by Robert L. Heilbroner
My favorite read, as of now. I've never taken economics courses or did much reading on economics, I've always thought most of it was strange, but this book has changed my mind on the subject. Heilbroner discusses how capitalism and the "market system" are modern phenomenons, and argues that without the profit motive economist would never exist. I'm only on the third chapter which is about Adam Smith.

For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway
I finished this one a few weeks ago. I don't know what to say... So there. Just read it.

Jesus' Son by Dennis Johnson
Quick read, great stories. I guess I'd say the stories are shocking, not because of the content, but in how they're written. Johnson has a way with small details and his endings always leave me mesmerized. I remember reading the last sentence to "Car Crash While Hitchhiking" and thinking "What the fuck just happened? You can do that with a story?" But I guess I got that with every single story in this collection.

The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros
I found this book at work the other day. Apparently my mom has been going through my stacks trying to find reading material to better her English. I guess the vignette form caught her eyes--that's what caught my eyes when I bought this book for Mrs. Biaz's freshmen English class. It's good reading this again. The writing is great. I remember reading Cisneros essay "My Hips, My Caderas" for Locklin's Engl 100 class; I've been a fan of Cisneros ever since.

The Foundations of Leninism by Joseph Stalin
Bought this for a buck a few semesters ago. It's been sitting on my self for too long. Recently, Tammy has fallen in love with Stolichnaya--mostly because she likes the sound of the word, not so much the taste of the vodka--and so I lent her my pocket edition Communist Manifesto. I wanted to re-read that, but apparently, she lost it, or it's misplaced somewhere, so now I'm reading this. This book is more appropriate with a glass of Stolichnaya anyways. It's a collection of Stalin's lectures on Leninism. It pairs well with the Heilbroner book.

Existentialism and Human Emotions by Jean-Paul Sartre
I've always been interested in existentialism after studying the American artists from the New York School--Pollock in particular. This was my first time reading Sartre. I finished this book in one sitting--it's really short--but I only understood parts of the first three sections. I was totally lost when it got into existentialist psychoanalysis. My plan is to read Sartre's earlier works and other philosophers that he frequently cites in this book before coming back to it.


After I'm done with these books I'll move on to professor recommendations, which are mostly novels. So that should be a change.

A Lost Dog

He was already missing when the kids passed through the unlatched yard gate, and walked through the empty yard carrying their colorful backpacks and textbooks. When they walked inside the house they found their grandparents frantic, their arms reaching for a haptic augmented reality where a dog was still present. They thought the kids would not understand the meaning of loyalty, disobedience, and irresponsibility. Tobi was gone.

He could be at a park chasing pigeons, or walking around the streets sniffing his way back home now, but the kids wouldn't believe it.

"He's dead," they screamed at their grandparents. "He's dead!"

They were old enough to understand the irony of a dog lost from home becoming a refuge for fleas and maggots. They've seen it on television and on the sides of freeways. A bloody rag of fur, intestines strewn near the center divider. It was sick and amusing.

Vampire Pomeranian

While I was walking my dog the other day a stranger asked me, "Is that a Vampire Pomeranian?"

I said, "No."

Rant On Dylan

I'm sick of people criticizing Dylan without even listening to the his albums. It doesn't make sense to bash an artist just because you don't like his or her new style of singing. Isn't there more to a song than just a voice? When I first started listening to Dylan I couldn't stand his gravelly voice. The first Dylan record I ever bought was World Gone Wrong. I was a junior in high school, and to say the least I hated it. I hated his voice. I didn't understand his guitar playing. I stopped listening. It wasn't until I got into college that started listening to that album again. I still didn't understand his singing, but I was floored by his picking styles. I've never heard anyone play like that. From then on I started getting my hands on other albums. And with each new record, I was always surprised with his music. Not the songs as songs, but his songs as musical pieces--instrumental, where lyrics aren't just lyrics to make a song, but a musical nonsense (if that makes sense). Whether he was playing with his band or by himself, his records were always musically brilliant. His lyrics and singing were always secondary for me. As good as his lyrics are, I know I would have never got engrossed in his albums if he and his bands played like shit.

(I started writing this before work, and now that I'm back home, it seems that I don't care anymore. It's been said a million times before. It doesn't matter. If you hate him, cool. If you like him, you should probably hate him.)


Dylan - Things Have Changed

Dylan doing what he does best--eating a cheeseburger.

BASS!

I got hired and fired in a 48 hour period. It felt pretty good being employed, even if it was just for 8 hours.

(This is 8 hours of feeling good: wake up at 6:45 am, drive down to K-town, get to the office, paper work, ride the metro to Silverlake Junction, stand in the sun canvassing to hipsters, make fun of those said hipsters, get on the metro back to the office. Happiness ends with debriefing, then being fired.)

But unemployment isn't so bad. I had time to go fishin the other day and caught a bass. It was a good size, about 13 inches. I cooked it today for breakfast. It was my first time filleting a fish. I cut two fillets, about 1 1/2 oz each. I seasoned them with garlic salt and cooked them with butter, chopped onions, and sliced garlic. I should have taken a picture of the end result. Here's a picture of the bass before I cooked it.


Look at that head.

¡Grita!

I work at a discoteca-turned-video store, but the store is still called Discoteca. A few days ago I was rummaging through the rack of what's left of our Mexican cds looking for some sweet Mariachi music to dance my way through this, so far, depressing summer. Being unfamiliar with the bands, I wasn't quiet sure what I was looking for. So I just flipped through the rack looking for the album with the best cover. For the most part every album had the same cover design: a portrait of the band posing in their colorful, matching charro outfits, some of the band members carrying their instruments. Kind of like this:

(Band: Mariachi Internacional)

Anyways, I found a cover I liked. The band was dressed sharp. They had mustaches, sombreros, and these awesome checkered jackets--each square had a picture of a Looney Tunes cartoon character, i.e. Bugs Bunny, Roadrunner, Taz, Tweety, Elmer Fudd, Wile E. Coyote, and (my favorite) Marvin the Martian. I like it. It's good music.