Reading Devices

I’m not crazy about the big office supply chain stores, but as they have pretty much put the little stores out of business, what can you do? I have one nice thing to say about Staples, anyway. They have this program where you can take in used printer cartridges for recycling and get store credit (you can return a maximum of 10 cartridges a month for $20 credit—and while most people won’t use that many at home, at the office where I work, we go through enough that my coworker and I can each return 10 a month). So yesterday I was able to take this credit letter they sent me in the mail and get my office supply needs for free. I bought a box of envelopes to mail more of my calendars, and a new notebook, for 2011 (always an exciting thing to find).

When I was about to leave the checkout line, a guy asked a clerk if they had any Kindles left, and the clerk said they were all sold out. That struck me as kind of odd. Can you imagine having to turn down a sale of that size, just because you are out of stock? And why was this guy so keen on getting a Kindle at that moment—presumably too late to be a Christmas gift—was he suddenly keen on reading something that his Kindle would provide him? Does the popularity of the Kindle mean popularity in reading? How much do people read, anyway, and what do they read? Is this an area where statistics are any good at all?

I really don’t know how I feel about these reading devices, or whether I think it reflects on how much people read or what they read. I know that whenever I see someone reading a BOOK it kind of makes me happy, even though it’s usually a Harry Potter book or The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I read quite a bit of text on my computer, after all. I guess what it comes down to is when I think about the last book I read, or the last several, or the many books I’ve read over the years, if I imagine reading them on a reading device, a Kindle, or a computer, or a phone, the idea horrifies me. Maybe it isn’t so much what I think the problems with new ways to read are as it why does the book as an object hold so much fascination for me? Is it—again, like so many things—just nostalgia?

New Year's Resolutions

Every year about this time you can find countless articles about how it's a bad idea to make New Year's resolutions. Why?--for a lot of lame excuse reasons like you'll inevitably fail, get depressed, you shouldn't put too much pressure on yourself, you should make resolutions at different times of the year. But I'm here to say: wrong. It's important to make New Year's resolutions, and fun, and inspiring, and helpful. I'm going to keep doing it. I don't care if some expert doesn't like it. Wait-- they're not experts, anyway-- just some schmo trying to write some worthless article on some boring subject when their back hurts too much to sit in the chair-- like me, right now.

The Timeless All White With A Black Hat Look

Blowing Smoke Rings

I read over what I wrote yesterday, or tried to, but it's incomprehensible. My apologies.

On the subway today I read my favorite ever blowing smoke rings passage in a book (2666 by Roberto Bolaño.):

...and he began to blow smoke rings again, in the most unlikely shapes, as if he'd spent his long stay in Mondragón perfecting that peculiar art. How do you do it? asked Lola. With the tongue, and by pursing the lips a certain way, he said. Sometimes by making a kind of fluted shape. Sometimes like someone who's burned himself. Sometimes like sucking a small to medium dick. Sometimes like shooting a Zen arrow with a Zen bow into a Zen pavilion.

Skip This One!

Last weekend I returned to Milwaukee after being gone for three years, to participate in Art vs. Craft (which was fun, successful) and start going thru my stuff stored there (less successful, but still worthwhile), and to visit people. I really should have emailed more people beforehand, but I was so busy with making stuff to sell, and with work, and working on my novel, I didn't get around to it. If I could do the weekend over, I would contact more people, that's for sure. But my job alone was enough to exhaust me. Due to some legal issue, I've had to print emails (of employees and ex-employees). Thousands of them. All day with the mouse, click, prints, move, click, print. I guess it has made me appreciate how my job normally has some variety.

It could be stress or fatigue, or post-traveling depression, but I've been edgy and kind of freaked out for a couple of days. Yesterday evening I heard more sirens than I've ever heard, last night, along with something else I can't remember now. I'm so tired, I'm sitting here trying to write this and falling into dreams while sitting up (supposedly awake) ...making less and less sense as I progress toward my collapse on the bed, too tired to do this. I apologize for the poor writing and not very interesting anything. I'll go thru this later and fix the nonsense. Delete it all. Plus, too, also too...