Skip to main content

MOOD, Madness, and Reading

I started reading Lord Vishnu's Love Handles by Will Clarke a while back. I picked up the book after catching an excerpt of it that sounded fascinating. I think the sort of spy novel description was what wheeled me in. That in conjunction with the laughing I expected to be doing.

So, I start reading the book and learn instantly it’s indeed right up my alley. The writing is plain, and when I say plain, I mean each sentence is civil enough that all levels of comprehension should be able to read from one sentence to the next without feeling lost.

Amid quite a bit of sarcasm the man has a failing business, a wife he suspects of cheating, and a drinking problem. Clear enough. And the way the story is told is not only humorous, but interesting enough that I’m already congratulating myself on what a great eye I have for selecting great books.

And whomp! Here comes blue and purple faces and mystical stuff that says, ‘oh no,’ time to close the book. I did. I closed the book and moved on to other things, albeit, keeping the book near by. The opening was too great to put on my give-away pile.

Well, I’ll be if a day doesn’t come, and I’m talking a day like the other day, when I’ve had enough (and don’t jump to conclusions…there’s nothing written here that says exactly what this enough is), just know I was pushed into a mood that had me rolling over reaching for the sort of spy book.

I love this book! Absolutely love it. Good Greek of Good Gods I couldn’t have found a better time to pick up Lord Vishnu. Yes, I am now cavorting around inside Vishnu’s head, crying laughing to tears. The man is ‘fighting insanity with his bare fist’ and he isn’t winning. Now, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be laughing this hard, but thanks to Lord Vishnu I’m feeling much better.

Great writing. I’ve been touched.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Rumor About One Race

It’s a funny thing, how some things you hear stay with you in that sixth sense sort of way, as if the information will serve some future purpose.

True Story. I was in elementary school when a teacher got to talking about three true races—Caucasian, Mongoloid, and Negroid, and how one day there would be One Race. For a placeholder I attended Philadelphia (PA) Public Schools, K-straight thru-12 (99.98% black student population) where there was always ‘that’ teacher who would put aside a textbook to impart ‘move to the edge of your seat’ information... something I later figured out would take “dynamic positioning” to find its originating source. I even think the teacher may have said we wouldn’t find this information written anywhere.

At any rate, I’m all kinds of fuzzy about how the original three races came to be, but recall 3rd grade hands going up in the air asking why this and how that and what about this, and then somebody saying, “unt un... my mother said...”

Naturally I was intr…

When Opinions Cross the Line

Two literary topographies brought this historical commentary together; a social media Headline asserting some books are irrelevant, and Stacey Dash’s memoir, ‘There Goes My Social Life’. (My other thoughts here).

I didn't pause long enough to so much as note the social media headline, but did pause after catching wind of Stacey Dash's outspoken stance on supporting American businessman and Republican politician, Mitt Romney. Stacey is an American Actress notable for her role in the film CluelessSIGH—I’ve never seen Clueless, but have seen this actress in other films... which was what inspired me to want to read her memoir. Being a Big Picture thinker, I couldn't make heads or tails out of the hoopla behind her outspoken political views.

My great-great grandfather, born in America in the mid 1800’s, was a Republican. Per my father, historically the American working class primarily voted Republican, though he, and then me, marveled about my great-great grandfather's r…

What Makes a Book Feel Good? ...A Top 10 List

When you ...as it’s said... live and learn, you learn LOVE comes in stages. So far, I’ve come across three stages of love. Puppy Love. Hormonal Love. And the ultimate love. Unconditional Love.

Lo and behold albeit, after finally getting around to reading Roy Blount’s memoir, “Be Sweet” (a memoirist who has at least twenty some years on me), I got to reading him summarizing unconditional love as ‘just an expression’ ..."like any other two words." Now, because his memoir is largely satirical, and given the title, on top of knowing better to think I know more than my elders (haha), it was hard to tell whether to take the definition seriously or facetiously. Whichever the case, as of today I define unconditional love without conditions. Unlike puppy love, built largely on a giddy childish infatuation superficially marveling over things or people, or that hormonal love responding to the cyclones and ebbs moving our hormones in this invisible like cylinder, there are no ifs, ands…