Giant, Enormous, Who Cares What I Do, Media Post

Okay, so, I may eat a lot but I do at least one other thing on a regular basis, and that would be consume media like it's cheesecake. What? I don't even know, cheesecake is pretty rich so you wouldn't want to consume a lot of it...though it is also tasty. Whatever. In no particular order, what I have seen or read or listened to in the last few months:

For the last two years or so I've been listening to Terry Gross' Fresh Air in podcast form. And through this medium I have heard far more about how awesome The Wire is than I can stand. So, last week, I finally started watching it. And Terry was right. I'm hooked, even though I know that no good will come of any one in the first three episodes I've watched (it's like, nine million years ago, when I watched OZ...I had no idea what the show was about and it was brutal and terrible and I just couldn't stop for three seasons worth of DVDs).
I had some down time during my NYC weekend (ie time between people where I walk around aimlessly and end up buying books at a Barnes and Noble in Park Slope and beginning to read one of said books in a Dunkin Donuts). I bought three books, with a bonus gift certificate card from my work (Huckleberry is right, my job is quite nice). The first read was started in New York and completed last night: Steve Martin's Born Standing Up. The hype this book received, in a number of places (Terry Gross being one of them), almost guaranteed that I wouldn't be as 'wowed' by the book. It was, however, a good and interesting read...just not as open or honest as I think people enjoyed saying it was. But then, I struggle with how to write about my life three years ago when I was equally unfamous and unsuccessful, I have no idea what it would be like to write about 30 years back in my life during a time when I was super-duper-crazy good at what I was doing.
The fourth season of Nip/Tuck is a farce. A complete and utter farce. So ridiculous. But they seemed to know it. And that kind of almost made it okay.
I had high hopes for Be Kind Rewind. Unfortunately these hopes were generally left hanging. I blame Michel Gondry.
I have liked Beck for years. I remember a friend once telling me, around the time of Mutations, that Beck smoked crack...and I a) believed him and b) was really disappointed in Beck. Now I think that Beck didn't smoke crack but is a scientologist, and I don't care. Modern Guilt makes me happy, Guero made me happy, Sea Changes made me sad etc, etc, the dude is okay with me.
I rejoined Netflix, which I cancelled during the great unemployment of late 2007/early 2008. Becoming Jane is silly. But damn, I wish James Macavoy wanted to leave his Irish family to starve in order to marry and love me. Oh well.
Simple Life by Ruth Porter. This is a book my father gave my mother and me for Christmas, mainly because somehow, at some point, years ago, they met or something. Reading this book was like reading my own writing, only worse. By this I mean that this story, a story I would never tell, clearly was assuming that the reader wanted to fill in blanks of personality and nuance. Maybe that's not it at all. It may be that it reminded me of my own writing in the way the narrator would explain what someone was feeling/thinking in a way that made my skin crawl. No. It's that her main character was as fundamentally weak as my own novel's primary protagonist. And that there was a lot of exposition. I don't know. I may be being harsh. I did finish the book. Though I didn't cry or laugh at any point. Nor will I ever need to read it again.
I've enjoyed Hawksley Workman's music since my sophomore year of college. Treeful of Starling, his maybe latest album is different than his earlier works while keeping the best parts. The guy can sing. And I agree: a moth is not a butterfly.
This album of Hawksley Workman's needs a few more listenings before I decide what I think...but I know I like two songs. A kind of overdone but rockier album?
I never read How To Eat Fried Worms. Having seen the movie, I do not feel the need to ever read the book.
I started reading Barack Obama's Dreams From My Father before he was elected. It was a slow read, but not because of my displeasure with the prose or lack of interest in the subject. Reading this book I felt like I was reading the story and opinions of someone not thinking about becoming a president in the future. Any person who writes a book has an agenda; this book's agenda was not necessarily propoganda. What? I liked this book.
I can't lie. I liked this movie a little. It was over the top and impossible but, for god's sake, Kevin Klein was in it for an incredibly short three to five minutes of film! Maybe longer? One guy (not Kevin Klein) sharing three possible stories, all ending in Abigail Breslin as his daughter. A 'who done it' of the mother variety.
I think I watched this movie on too small a television screen. I imagine it would have moved me if it was a movie theater screen and sound system delivering the audio visuals. The way Christian Bale speaks in his Batman suit, what's up with that?
I like this album. I listen to and enjoy it, and if I were to be walking somewhere it might make my step a little more sprightly.
Another silly movie. Hilary Swank, I don't know, she just can't do romantic dramedy with the right tone. Gerard Butler, on the other hand, does a pretty good job of being a complete dreamboat of an Irish dead husband.
I think I might like Kid A. or Ok Computer the most.
This is good walk around on a day in winter that feels like the fall, as the weather changes into a storm. People with umbrellas but no rain walking weatherl. Ominous skies and the like.
T. and C. had Vampire Weekend in their car sometimes while I was in Indiana. But I don't think I really ever listened to the full album. Or maybe I did, but thought it was just a few songs? Whatever. This music makes me smile. I like the tempos.
I'm also going to watch Lost tonight. Hopefully get my bearings and figure out what it's all about (ha).