Marching Morons

I read Marching Morons by C.M. Kornbluth (a novella) early this year and thought it was pretty good.  It must have been an inspiration for the movie Idiocracy, which was pretty funny, but in that "oh, God, that's just too close to real" way.

Basic premise is that the smart folks become outnumbered and have to prop up and allow the world to function from the shadows while fewer and fewer maintain a level of intellect to keep things functional.  There are times when the world can seem like that, and especially so if you follow politics.

I am trying to illustrate something along those line in my writing project because it has been often on my mind after reading The Marching Morons.  I suppose I cannot eliminate having seen how things function "under the hood" (so to speak) as a possible cause for my recent contemplation.

It seems that many flash-point topics turn people into raving lunatics.  Gun control is the current manic-causing drug of choice among the populace.  It is a rotation.  Abortion, marriage, religion and all the other flash-point topics will come up again when it is their turn.  It all just keeps happening.

Battlestar Gallactica hammered the point home again and again: This has all happened before and it will all happen again.  Which begs the question... Are we getting dumber or have we always been pretty stupid and it just always looks like its getting worse?  I'm not sure one is better than the other.

So, has this all just happened before?  (Lame excuse for a cool BSG trailer)

Infinite Jest

Out of the blue, I started Infinite Jest, by David Foster Wallace.  This might be an insane decision on my part considering that I just finished The Pale King, but I am at a place right now that makes this book particularly appealing.  It just feels necessary that I read this particular book right now.

Why?  Now that is a good question.

Well, I've hit a point where dealing with certain serious matters has taken a jest-filled turn.  I have endeavored to swim up stream of late by taking a jester's view of a stuffy world.  From political debates, negotiations, and the everyday logical flaws that speckle this world like stars in the sky, everything just looks clown-shoes ridiculous to me.

Infinite Jest addresses our entertainment-based society in a silly way.  I recognize that I will enjoy such a topic now more than most any other time.  I started it last night and am hooked.  I would never have thought it possible for me to read two entire DFW books in a row, especially two as long as these two, without losing my entire mind.  It may happen yet (losing my mind, that is).

I may be a glutton for punishment, and it may take me a really long time and several breaks to finish this book, but it is apparently a masterpiece and I want in on that at the moment.

Happy reading all.

Prelude No More

Well... it has been more than five years and I am finally ready to drop the Prelude and get on with the book.

I have really enjoyed working on this blog, and I will keep it going the best I can.  I do not have many page views, but that was never my goal.  I enjoy thinking out loud and working through topics in writing.  I have even found myself forwarding older posts when a topic of conversation veers toward something I have written about.

I am pretty sure forwarding links to my thoughts has come across as rather vain.  But, it has been a pleasure to write my thoughts on this forum.  I am constructing my book from a story I wrote in 2010 and I have started a new blog page to flush it out.  If you receive an e-mail invitation, you will get to see it.  It is nowhere near done and will not likely be done anytime soon.  However, it will become my writing focus for the foreseeable future.

For me, this is a bucket-list item.  Probably my top bucket-list item at that.  I want to write a book.  I do not care if I publish it or not, but I must finish it.  It has become important to me.

At some point, I may publish my short story (the one that I base the book upon) on this site.  I will try to occasionally post updates here, but my focus will be on Schaden Street (which will make sense if you read the finished product).

I just think it is time to get this going.  I titled this site preludetoabook because I always knew the ultimate goal.  I am finally ready to tackle that goal and have started.  I have my chapters mapped and have started filling in the large gaps left by my story.  I am ready to do this, and I will.  I will read less and write more.  This will hurt my production level on this blog, but I am fine with that.

This is what I want to do, so I am going to do it.

LiveWrong

Last year my steady-but-cheap exercise bike finally had it and died a quick death.  One day it started clacking and black dust leaked from underneath.  It was dying fast, but I couldn't be without my routine.  My now-dead bike was already used when my brother gave it to me and it was small of frame.  But it fit my needs and I put thousands of miles on it over about two-and-a-half years.  I read many books while riding it and listened to a lot of music and contemplated many things.

When it was time to replace "Old Reliable," I did my research.  I set a budget, tried to find one with a lip that would fit my Kindle and set out to find something I would spend a lot of time on.  I found the perfect bike for my purposes.  It isn't overly fancy, but definitely not bottom-of-the line.  My final consideration was to determine how I felt about owning a LiveStrong brand bike.

Even writing that now, I can hardly believe it was a controversy in my mind.  Standing in the store, I felt a look on my face like I was in the presence of flatulence.  I had firmly resolved that Armstrong was a doper and I had to talk myself past that.  The reason I bought it, ultimately, was that a portion of all purchases of LiveStrong cycles of any kind go toward cancer research.  It was a tie-breaker.  I resolved that I would buy it and take the inevitable revelation when it came (and I had no doubt it would come).

Lance Armstrong used to be a hero of mine.  That changed over time, and the ramifications of all I grew to suspect came crashing down today.  I hardly care anymore, but the ethical dilemma has consumed me.

In 2001, you could not have found a bigger Lance Armstrong fan than me.  When Lance gave Jan Ullrich "the look" before blowing the German away in a cloud of arrogance and competitiveness in 2001, I was hooked.  That moment set me to jump out of my seat and taunt Ullrich from the couch.  The video of that look is above.

I owned, and wore, my LiveStrong bracelet and loved his book It's Not About the Bike.  I loved the part in the book when he described his first Tour de France win as he shouted "How do you like them apples!" to his trainer as his victory became certain.

I remember taking up cycling when basketball finally became too painful.  It was the logical choice, but Lance made it an enthusiastic one.  I trained hard for the 2002 Ride the Rockies and hit my goal of finishing it without taking the "sag wagon."  I had invested in my first truly-awesome bike (nicknamed "patches the Volpe" by Jen because of all the flat tires it got).  Still a novice, I pedaled every mile without clip-in shoes (I used tennis shoes) and felt the exhilaration of reaching the top of Red Mountain pass only to look to the side and realize just how high I had climbed.

 I remember animatedly imploring my boss at work at my 2004 summer job in Wyoming that he "simply must" watch Armstrong perform in the Tour.  I explained that he would miss greatness at its peak if he missed it.  That continued through 2005.  My status as a fan was still pretty strong, but I got tired of hearing about allegations.  I am not a conspiracy nut (quite the opposite, actually), so I never liked hearing the "witch hunt" narratives coming from other Armstrong fans and the man himself.

Still, the narrative I did believe was that his innocence was a given because he was the "most tested athlete in history."  For the next three years I just went with it and took the position that I really just didn't know, but I hoped he had been clean.

Then, in 2007, I read Game of Shadows, by Mark Fainaru-Wada and Lance Williams.  That book made the best argument Lance had into a joke.  Big time.

Game of Shadows killed my fan status.  I was done.  From that point on it was only a matter of time.  The book illustrated very clearly how easy it is to pass a drug test.  The book eventually brought down BALCO and outed many athletes, including Marion Jones (five Olympic medals).  I remember telling people that I would never follow track and field or cycling again.  The idea that other athletes were somehow not involved seemed impossible to me.

I remember just about falling out of my chair when a Sports Illustrated article about the notorious Victor Conte (BALCO's owner and leader) sitting at his table in front of two framed Denver Bronco jerseys.  Nooooooooooo!!!!!

Viewed through this new prism, I turned hostile to my once-hero.  Eventually, I just stopped thinking about it.  I still ride my indoor cycle religiously, but I almost never ride outside anymore.

As I rode my cycle this evening and looked at the yellow highlights and the yellow "LiveStrong" on the black panel down by my legs, I just shook my head.  I couldn't stop thinking about today's news that Armstrong finally has elected to confess (at least in part) and to apologize.  I shook my head thinking about how late this is and how unimportant it feels because it came only after he was inescapably-cornered by evidence.

It made me sad even though I thought that ship had sailed.  I think the contradiction became clear when I remembered that I had justified the purchase because of cancer research.  It would be true to state that Lance Armstrong raised many millions of dollars for cancer research and it would be foolish to argue that none of that money helped people survive cancer.  It would also be foolish to say that anywhere near as much money would have been raised if he had not won seven titles.

That leads to the ethical dilemma.  Was the good accomplished through cheating and lying worth it?  In a pure numbers sense with Machiavellian coldness, more people were helped than hurt.  But, I just cannot shake my preference for honesty.

I hate the message to kids that you should win at all costs and cheat if necessary.  I hate the idea that a generation of kids will have the example of a man who stood on top of the world because he cheated.  I do not want Jacob to consider the fame and notoriety if he faces a tough choice and finds himself offered an easy solution.

I cannot deny that his ruse and dishonesty did a measurable good.  That is a fact.  He was an inspiration to those fighting for their lives and advanced science for tremendous benefit.

But I will never feel good about how he did it.  I will never cease to believe that an equal or even greater good could have come from honesty.  It may not have been as much money in as short a time, but I believe it would have been longer-lasting and ultimately more successful.  Without cheating, and with perhaps just one Tour finish as an inspiring cancer survivor, I believe LiveStrong could have raised funds for a generation.  It certainly would not make people like me shake their heads at the logo today.

I simply cannot take any other position and keep any measure of hope in humanity.  And I choose to hope above all else.

Messed with by a Ghost

It took me about two seconds to realize I could never spoil this book for anyone by writing about it now.  Not even if I wanted to.

You cannot spoil this book because it has no resolution, but that is the point.  Life often goes unresolved.  I saw a quote the other day that expressed how unlikely it would be for real life to ever find a publisher.  It is over-long and often lacks resolution.  David Foster Wallace makes that point with his usual brilliant writing.  The book is thought-provoking, smart and hilarious.

DFW never finished The Pale King.  But, it wouldn't have a traditional "ending" even if he had finished it.  In fact, his notes indicate that, although plot lines were drawn out, nothing ever would ultimately resolve.

I have written before on this blog that DFW will mess with you.  He does that in this book as well.  He starts by introducing a concept, and in this book that concept is boredom.  He then discussed that concept and, before you know it, he illustrates it without telling you by creating the experience for you, the reader.  The reader does not realize it until the point becomes obvious.

In this case, he illustrates how to deal with boredom by using painstaking description of tedium.  You then realize that your own patience is being strained and tested.  But, and here is where his talent comes in, he makes you experience the tedium while captive and even engrossed.  How is that possible?  I'm not sure, and it makes me feel toyed with.  I find myself experiencing the sensation he seeks to prove and can only give a side-smile and think "touche, Mr. Wallace... touche."

One of the best examples of his manipulation of the reader is when a character says "rest assured that I am not Chris Fogle, and that I have no intention of inflicting on you a regurgitation of every last sentence and passing thought I happen to recall."

He then proceeds to regurgitate every possible detail and thought within the story.  So, how does DFW illustrate the mundane life in The Pale King?  Here are some:

- He takes you into a stuck elevator for an overly-long articulation of "what's wrong with Americans today" that seems so cliche and typical of every age and generation without having the characters make more than a passing reference of the hours that have gone by.   They pass the time with deep, even if well plumbed, discussion.  You feel the frustration of the character who is not interested while the others blather on.

- He takes you into a traffic jam and describes every single indication of discomfort for every passenger, the construction zone and every delay from traffic to speed bump.

- He takes you into the theoretical scenario of value-maximization that would happen in a progressive tax system where every customer would buy groceries in $5.00 increments to pay the least possible taxes and how that would absolutely happen because of the mythical "rational person" brought to us by theoretical economics.

- He takes you into the scattered mind of a man who cannot stop talking about himself.  You learn about everything from drugs he has used to the motivations to succeed and how impacting his father's death was on his life.  You also learn about the cartoon-ridiculous yet amusing way his father died.  Just try not to be ashamed of yourself for chuckling while this slapstick death is described in hushed tones.  It's... I mean, I chuckled and felt terrible for it.

- He engrosses you in a discussion between a computer-like man and an attractive woman about the concept of attractiveness and the reaction people have to being called interesting.  It is fantastic, but also another way to cut through a lull in the action at a gathering.

- One character sweats so profusely and his mind focuses on everything around him that could cause an outbreak of sweat.  He even tries to determine the level of attractiveness of a woman behind him to avoid allowing her appearance to inspire sweat.   He illustrates how many items one mind can focus on at a time.

- He illustrates the best way to hide information as the sharing of all information.  Specifically, he writes: "abstruse dullness is actually a much more effective shield than is secrecy.  For the great disadvantage of secrecy is that it's interesting.  People are drawn to secrets; they can't help it."  This concept crops up throughout the book.

- He takes you through the process of correcting an administrative snafu with himself as a fictional character (and although he tries to convince you it is autobiographical it is also fictional... and... just... my God... It's hard to say for sure).  DFW, whether real or fictional, jumps hoops to untangle himself from yet another David Wallace and their merged identities.

Other parts I loved included a detailed description of a story about "shit" that ends up explaining a nickname; a beautiful description of a nature scene that ends with speculation that bird chirps might actually be war cries; and a vivid description of flying in a plane.  One description of a cashier being caught picking his nose and the reaction of a customer includes one stream-of-conscious sentence that goes for pages and is just hilarious and disgusting at the same time.

My analysis is that these slices of the mundane-made-interesting illustrate an active, "unborable" mind.

And, that is why I do not feel capable of "spoiling" this book for anyone.  The experience is in the journey.  Knowing that he will discuss the mundane, and therefore knowing what mundane scenarios are featured, can ruin nothing.  The experience of this book is in taking the ride and imagining those mental places through his virtuosic wordsmithing.

This book is boring at times.  But, I can honestly say the boredom is the point.  The journey is not boring.  The book is not boring.  The topic is boredom and the human mind.  And DFW makes you bored so that you understand and even FEEL the frustration of the characters.  It's like an emotional scratch-and-sniff, if that were possible.  Scratch one sticker and feel the frustration of being dragged into a conversation for hours that you don't want while stuck with no way out.  Scratch this other sticker and you are suck in a car that never seems to get to where it is going.  Scratch yet another and feel just as trapped as if you were in a windowless room with a clock, as he describes below:

"Lock a fellow in a windowless room to perform rote tasks just tricky enough to make him have to think, but still rote, tasks involving numbers that connected to nothing he'd ever seen or care about, a stack of tasks that never went down, and nail a clock to the wall where he can see it, and just leave the man there to his mind's own devices."  

Depending on your personal tolerances, some scenes will be engrossing and others suffocating.

Also, DFW's writing is suffocating both in the good and frustrating sense.  There are times when you keep reading and reading with urgency not because there is a climax or cliffhanger, but because his language is so powerful, dense, fascinating and maddening at the same time.  It will make you tired from thought.

I made 179 notes and marks in this book. Here are a few more highlights at random.

- "She might actually have bared her teeth at me for an instant."

- "We think of ourselves now as eaters of the pie instead of makers of the pie.  So who makes the pie?"

"- I know I was nearly always the hero of any story or incident I ever told people about during this period - which, like the thing with the lone sideburn, is a memory that makes me wince now."

- "To give oneself to the care of others' money - this is effacement, perdurance, sacrifice, honor doughtiness, valor.  Hear this or not, as you will.  Learn it now, or later - the world has time.  Routine, repetition, tedium, monotony, ephemeracy, inconsequence, abstraction, disorder, boredom, angst, ennui - these are the true hero's enemies, and make no mistake, they are fearsome indeed.  For they are real."

- "As is well-known, parents can have vastly different ways of expressing love and concern. Of course, much of my interpretation is just speculative - there's obviously no way to know what he really meant."

I also highlighted words I had to look up in the dictionary.  I found 61 and list them below this post.

I cannot stop thinking about this book and even found myself talking to Jacob about how he handles boredom and how he should do so.  I loved it and am very happy to have read it.

WORDS I HAD TO LOOK UP

incised
obtruded
anfractuous
prolixly
anodized
Imbrication
confabulation
aphasia
Solipsismus
limn
florid
agglomeration
Banausic
peplum
logorrheic
circumambient
rictus
obverse
verdant
baize
baronial
unoccluded
orthogonal
blebular
marginalia
punctilious
priapstic
otios
hydrotically
obtundated
desiccated
neologisms
tchotchkes
dyspnea
ipsilateral spasticity
inanitive pica
dextrorotated
surfeit
ersatz
intubatory
semion
trilby
galvanic
etiology
monopsony
efficacious
jejune
anondize
proboscis
didactic
eclat
introrsus
agonists
hypertrophic
polyphony
eidetic
carbuncular
sardonic
eponymous
ontologically

Black Friday Book Breakdown

I was going to write about Black Friday and how horrible we are as people.  Then I realized that, in the spirit of starting things too early, I would prefer to just start my end-of-the-year book rating.  As usual, this super-priced version is both obscenely early and will never cost you, the reader, less (if you act now!).

(Just a taste of putrid degradation to get you in the mood)



(I think this clip says more than I was probably going to say if I were to really write about Black Friday... and my reaction:



Did I just embed a video clip within a parenthetical tangent?  You bet your ass I just did!  I even just threw in an aside right here to get fancy! I got game, y'all!)

So, anyway, here is my initial flushing-out for the big reveal at the end.  Again, I realize that many books of quality may not rank as high as some may feel they should.  But, this is a list of the books I enjoyed this particular year.  This first draft of my ranking (and top 5) included some tough decisions.  But, what I went with was how I felt after reading the books.... and, by all accounts, "Winter is Coming."

Will and Grace

The following post is in three parts and was conceived from thoughts I've had during a boring seminar, a discussion of Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography with friends and a personal contemplation.

So many of our most revered historical figures disappoint in heartbreaking ways.  No matter which founding father, noble ruler or trailblazer a person chooses to honor, every one of them will fall short of Superman.  It can be a perplexing thing to discover those faults, but inevitable.

The question that led to all of this:  How would William Franklin feel about his father and should it matter?  The answer that gives me peace is Grace and it surprises even me.  Yet, without Grace, I don't think I could keep Benjamin Franklin as a hero.

SEMINAR (on yellow lined paper)

I am listening to a listing of credentials in a seminar where people like to pat each other on the back.

Is this what life is supposed to be?

When I referenced BBQ's with doctors in a previous post, I imagined these stuffy gatherings to be akin to an intellectual buffet.  More like a trough of .... never mind.

I am now eating an apple and you would think I rang a gong.  That's not to say no one is surfing the Internet, just that the herd must scoff and, well... here I am.

I continue to eat my apple, but louder now.