Ah, books. If I’m not buying them on impulse, they’re being given by friends. In any case, they keep on piling up. I’m not complaining, though. When it comes to books, I’m an unapologetic hoarder.
- The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen. His name keeps popping up on the Tumblr blogs I regularly visit, so I figure he must be something. Also: A friend highly recommends him. I trust her because she has nice legs. Yeah.
- Native Tongue by Carl Hiaasen. I’ve read two Hiaasen books and LOL’d at both of them. I want a third serving… and perhaps more. Why not?
- Spanking the Donkey: Dispatches from the Dumb Season by Matt Taibbi. One of the reasons why I read Rolling Stone is Matt Taibbi. His polemical articles on politics and media are somewhat reminiscent of the late Hunter S. Thompson’s ruthless gonzo attacks. Authors with balls, I’ll devour ’em like pies (um, that sounds gay, right? But whatever, man). Devil’s Horn to Boojie Basilio for giving me his extra copy of this.
- “A Dance With Dragons” by George R.R. Martin. I’m a big fan of the A Song of Ice and Fire book series. ‘Nuff said.
One day I’ll be old and decrepit and useless, but not bored. What did the ants teach the grasshopper again?
A viewer can only appreciate The Rum Diary if he/she:
- is a die-hard Hunter S. Thompson fan who will suck up anything associated with the late gonzo journalist,
- once worked in a newspaper and wants to relive the mayhem — nay — experience,
- wants to ogle Amber Heard/Johnny Depp for at least two hours,
- is a chain-smoking booze hound who wants to see his/her pathetic lifestyle romanticized in film,
- hasn’t seen a single movie in 10 years
The only part of it that got a reaction from me is that one where Paul Kemp (Depp) and Sala (Michael Rispoli) got chased by a bunch of wild Puerto Rican drunks. That shit is hilarious, man. Some brownie points for the dialogue too, but not much. File it under watch and delete. You’ll be needing that extra space in your hard drive for something better.
The producers (which included Depp) shouldn’t have tried to court the mainstream. I think that’s where the problem lies.
My life with the printed word in 2011: 21 books/ebooks, 15 magazines, two comics. Not bad, really, considering that I have a job that occupies most of my waking hours, and am also a full-time family man on the side. I just wish I hit the 30-books-a-year target, or have purchased fewer books than what I’ve actually read. (Booksale, you da devil, man.)
Looking at my list, I see that six books got my highest five-star rating. Naturally, I have to pick my Top 3 from these, which are: 3. The Accidental Billionaires by Ben Mezrich 2. Demon Box by Ken Kesey 1. The Proud Highway: The Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman by Hunter S. Thompson.
I’d love to elaborate on why these three made it to the top of the heap this year, particularly on why HST ruled them all, but it’s the afternoon of Dec. 31 and the household is busy preparing for tonight’s media noche and I don’t feel comfortable sitting on my ass here in front of the laptop hammering this swill when I can lend a hand to my wife. So I’ll end this now and hope to come up with much improved numbers by next year-end. Things look good: I’m starting 2012 with George R.R. Martin’s “A Game of Thrones,” the first in the five-book series A Song of Ice and Fire. The HBO series based on the first book was actually one of the best things that happened to me this year.
This is me with my new swag Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas shirt. Charmaine’s workmate made this and he did a pretty excellent job. This is actually me taking my Hunter S. Thompson fanaticism to a brand new level: not only I want to read the bastard, I also want to wear him. Yeah.
Today is Friday, the first day of my weekend, and I’m riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave, so to speak (again, Thompson). I just finished putting up our Christmas lights with a very excited Raven beside me and really, Christmas is so much livelier in the company of kids. I am silently thanking my daughter for making me look at this holiday season in a new perspective.
Earlier I was at my mother’s place where I applied Solignum to my old bookshelf because termites, greedy little shits that they are, were organizing a holiday boodle fight on my books, and mom said I should stop them before they start munching on her dog. It always feels nice to be of help. The job done, we went to Mang Inasal for lunch and had a pretty nice bonding moment while abusing the unlimited rice promo and eating like famine survivors. Then I treated my narcissistic self to a haircut and a shave (off you go, three-inch goatee!).
Now I’m gulping down coffee because this has been a great day and I don’t want it to end yet.