Edward Lorn's Blog, page 93

Ruminating On: The Top 5 Reasons People Return Gifts

Most bloggers warn their readers when there is gratuitous profanity in their posts. Me? I tend to warn when there’s not enough. This is one of those days when the expletives did not flow. Not trying to censor myself, I swear. Or I don’t swear. Whatever. Get over it.

TOP 5 REASONS PEOPLE RETURN GIFTS

(a.k.a. Dafuq were you thinking)

#5. You’re a horrible judge of one’s physical presence. No carnival on earth would hire you as the bloke that guesses weight or age because, to your discerning gaze, everyone’s a buck and quarter, and pleasantly stuck at twenty-five years old like some New Adult Peter Pan. I weigh 350 pounds, Pumpkin; an extra large won’t cover my left tit.

#4. You bought a blind kid a pop-up picture book. Admit it, you don’t know that lady’s son from a martian named Flapjack. You bought the book in hopes of using your own pop-up in full view of his mother. You dirty birdie. I bet you’re the same gentleman that cuts a hole in the bottom of a bucket of popcorn, aren’t you?

Tickle, tickle.

“What’s that, Frank?”

“Free hotdogs!”

#3. You bought a terminally ill person a lifetime gym membership. 

#2. You attended a secret Secret Santa party. Seriously, nobody likes the trash they get at these stupid company get-togethers. “Holy shit, a purple elephant that moonlights as a saltshaker/back massager!” said no one ever. Or how about this one, “Oooh, I got the Joe Dirt Soundtrack!” The only people who buy good gifts for these little parties are emotional cripples or the recently divorced. And you should be scared of these people. Because you have to be in a pretty dark place to give a shit about buying a gift that could go to anybody out of a room full of people. Unless you know exactly who’ll be receiving your gift… then you’re in a whole other realm of creepy altogether. 

#1. I don’t like you. Never have. Why would I want a present from you? You’re always trying to strike up a conversation with me at the park, but, when I spray you with mace, you keep right on trying to talk. You offer me clothes that don’t fit, and you’re always staring at my kids, giving off that Neverland Ranch vibe. Go away. You smell. Like menstruating onions and garlic feet. You sweat excessively, as if you’ve just ran a marathon. Did it rain, `cause you’re soaked. Honestly, do you have water spickets in your armpits? What the hell is in your hair? Parmesan cheese? For the love of Tom Cruise, did you just fart? No, I will not hold on to this unmarked package. No I don’t want to watch your things. Where the hell are you going? Why is this box ticking…

Oh…

30 Day Book Challenge – Day 30 Finale!

Day 30 – You favorite book of all time.

I wrote a long review of this one, so I’ll just copy and paste. Before I do, though, let me say, I’ve had a blast these last thirty days. To everyone who joined me, day in and day out, thanks for playing. We’ll do this again soon. Not the same challenge, of course, but something fresh. Love yo faces!

E.

Night Film: The Review

I first stumbled across Night Film, by Marisha Pessl, by way of a review written by one of my favorite authors, Joe Hill. I read the Look Inside on Amazon, skimmed through the negative reviews, then ran out to buy the hardcover. I’ll explain why I purchased the physical version instead of the ebook in a moment. On with the review!

First and foremost, Night Film is a literary novel. It is more about the journey than the destination. You will drink your fill of adverbs, but, in my opinion, every word present is required if you are to be fully immersed in this startlingly vibrant work of art.

At first, Night Film read like a novelization of the movie 8MM. For two hundred pages, I went along, seemingly trudging through superfluous detail and meandering characters. And then the interviews started; page after page of fringe players droning on and on about their dealings with the reclusive director, Stanislas Cordova, and his recently deceased daughter, Ashley. Normally I’d be bored to tears, but the characters in this novel are interesting enough without being over the top (unless of course they’re supposed to be over the top, but, even then, Pessl manages to make them only subtly eccentric) to keep the reader’s interest. But then we come to the final two hundred pages and things become all kinds of interesting. Puzzle pieces slowly drift together, and you realize that, all along, important information has been masquerading as superfluous detail. Tiny things, such as a mysterious hexagon-shaped box mentioned way back in the first hundred pages, come back to play a large role toward the end. You will question everything after that, as you should.

Night Film is the only novel I’ve ever read that explains things with logical can-happen scenarios mixed with supernatural possibilities while still leaving the entire story open for interpretation. Was Ashley just a normal girl? Was she magical? Every time you think you know what’s going on, you’re wrong. And, when the book finally ends, you’re left considering every answer you were given because Pessl answers all questions with more questions cloaked as answers. Confused? Just read the book. To say anymore would be to step over the “edge of the end” and spoil everything.

Pessl’s descriptions catapult this haunting novel into the stratosphere, surpassing Hill’s NOS4A2 as my favorite novel of all time. Which is saying quite a bit, considering Night Film isn’t horror, which remains my go-to genre of choice. Which brings me to how disturbing this book is. We’re not talking blood and gore and spooks and beasties, but nuanced scenes of dark imagination that infect you. One scene in particular, where our narrator finally stumbles across The Devil’s Bridge to find what/who changed Ashley Cordova’s life forevermore, made me put the book down. Shivering, I powered up my Kindle, and found a comedy to watch on Netflix. This scene may not affect you in the same way, but I’ve never read such a terrifying description. So well done, yet so succinct… so stark.

For a mystery/thriller, this novel is deep. I almost wished I’d read the Kindle edition so I could have highlighted certain sections and shared them as I paged through, but I didn’t buy that version based on the Amazon reviews. Seems the Kindle edition is rife with problems concerning italics and links.

The images scattered throughout the book did seem unneeded, as, before every one of them, Pessl would describe said photograph or article, making the pictures redundant page filler. I didn’t feel they added anything to the story/narrative, but they certainly didn’t take anything away.

Night Film is the reason book reviewers give good books four stars while reserving fives for only the best of the best. I see that now. From here on out, unless a future novel surpasses Night Film, it will only garner four stars from me. That doesn’t mean there was anything wrong with it. It simply wasn’t better than Pessl’s masterpiece.

Finally, this is solely my opinion, but you might struggle through the first four hundred pages of this book, but when you reach the final two hundred, you’ll be glad you did. Everything comes together. Everything. And nothing at all…

30 Day Book Challenge – Day 29

Day 29 – A book everyone hated but you liked.

Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Sure, a great many of you like the novel, but today’s generations runs screaming from anything epistolary in form.  It doesn’t matter if the novel is written in letters and journal entries, I dug the book. And that’s all I have to say about that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

30 Day Book Challenge – Day 28

Day 28 – Favorite title of a book.

NOS4A2 is a brilliant title. I even loved it back when it was NOS4R2. Anyone remember that? I do. Anyway, I believe things like this come along rarely. I can almost see Joe Hill doing something boring, like washing dishes or taking a crap, when the idea hit him in the nose like a prize fighter. I doubt he’ll be able to tell you where the idea actually came from. Sure, he probably saw a vanity plate and a spark ignited the tinder in his brain. Or maybe it came to him fully formed, vacuum-sealed, and wrapped up with a bow. No matter how Hill stumbled across the idea, it’s quite perfect. As an author, I know what a good title can do for you. And NOS4A2, well… that’s that magic.

30 Day Book Challenge – Day 27

Day 27 – The most surprising plot twist or ending.

Choke, by Chuck Palahniuk. The, uh, ending of this book is vile. Hilarious, but vile. I have two words for you. Anal. Beads. Yes, the “doctor” being revealed is one hell of a plot twist, but the final scene of the book floored me. I’d forgotten all about the beads. Just goes to show you, what goes up, must come down.

And, yes, there are better plot twists and endings out there, but this one stands out in my mind the most.

 

 

 

 

Ruminating On: The Top 5 Reasons I Say Merry Christmas Instead of Happy Holidays

DANGER, WILL ROBINSON! Many a naughty word and much sarcasm is used in this blog post. Peace!

The Top 5 Reasons I Say Merry Christmas Instead of Happy Holidays.

#5. Because it actually bothers you. If you didn’t make such a goddamned fuss about it every year, I might not do it. No, I’m not a christian. Nope, not even remotely religious. To me, Christmas is the consumer holiday it was always meant to be. A reason to spend a metric shit-ton on your kids simply to see them brighten up for all of an hour before disappearing into their rooms, arms laden with gifts and goodies, while you trudge back to bed for a nap before leaving for your recently paroled aunt’s house where you’ll be scarfing down Xanax by the fistful and tossing furtive glances at your significant other in hopes that they catch on to you wanting to leave, posthaste. Yeah, Christmas rocks. Which brings me to…

#4. Because. It. Is. Mother. Fucking. Christmas. Not Hanukkah, not Kwanzaa, not Ramadan… Well, December 25th might share other holidays, but for me, it’s some fictional character’s birthday; the day some dude was born in manger. Because, you know, accurate calendars were a thing back in the days of wise men and skies so unpolluted that said wise men used that shit like GPS to find some cheating-ass wife’s bastard child. 

#3. Because you’re full of shit. You believe in God but think Santa is a wild concept only believed by simple-minded idiots and children. So, Merry Christmas! After all, if you need the threat of hell to make you a decent human being, you need a little more merriment in your life. Happy Holidays just isn’t going to cut it, am I right or amiright? Who am I to refuse you joviality. Have some eggnog! Merry the fuck outta this Christmas!

#2. I’ve always believed one should say what they mean and mean what they say. And I don’t mean it when I say, “Happy Holidays.” Fuck the holidays right in their cheerily splendid, rosey-red sphincters. Screw your Thanksgiving. The best part about Turkey Day is the following day. You know, Black Friday; also known as the day I get to legally trample people for a chance to get my hands on a fifty-cent crock pot or a two hundred dollar drive-in movie theater screen. Because FREEDOM!

#1. Because some people take stupid shit far too seriously. Like, for instance, this blog post. “Oh, he makes fun of people who believe in blah, blah, blah… ” Shut up. Yes, you, you entitled, doe-eyed, single-celled organism. If you find it offensive when someone challenges or picks fun at your beliefs, you need to reevaluate your situation in life. There are far better battles to fight. To quote Stephen Fry, ”It’s now very common to hear people say, ‘I’m rather offended by that.’ As if that gives them certain rights. It’s actually nothing more… than a whine. ‘I find that offensive.’ It has no meaning; it has no purpose; it has no reason to be respected as a phrase. ‘I am offended by that.’ Well, so fucking what.” That’s how I feel when someone says they don’t celebrate Christmas or Thanksgiving or Halloween or National Dildo Appreciation Day. It’s a fucking day. If you don’t celebrate the holiday, don’t celebrate it? Let me have my moment. Who am I hurting? You? Oh… my bad. Can I make it up to you somehow? Buy you a drink maybe? Cook you a ham? Decorate your house? Send you a card? Sing you a carol? Buy you a present?

30 Day Book Challenge – Day 26

Day 26 – A book that changed your opinion about something.

I read Dolores Claiborne the year it came out. My mother was part of the Stephen King Book Club so she received all of his new stuff in the mail without ordering it. I was thirteen the year this came out, and Mom was still filtering out adult content from my reading material, so when it arrived in the mail while my mother was still at work, I was ecstatic. I was finally going to be able to read a Stephen King book, an author whom my mother loved and respected. I could finally see what all the fuss was about! I rushed from the mailbox to the porch, sneaked through the front door (Dad was asleep in the living room as per usual; a Cubs game on the boob tube, his snores bleeding in with the sounds of the crowd at Wrigley’s Field), and slinked down the hallway to my room. All the while the package remained nestled snugly under my arm. In the privacy of my chambers, I ripped open the thick cardboard, slipped the novel out, and settled back on my bed. That new-book smell hit me, that fresh, subtly vanilla odor us bibliophiles come to equate with joy, and I grinned as the book creaked open. I began reading at five that afternoon and did not stop until I heard my mother come through the front door at eleven-thirty that night. I tucked Dolores away between my mattress and bed springs and went to tell my mother goodnight. 

I read this book over the course of three nights. Heavy shit for a thirteen year old, but I managed to understand all that was going on. What stayed with me the most was Dolores’s husband’s nails scraping against the inner wall of the well she’d thrown him down. That was my first true experience with horror. I was scared. Terrified. I have never reread Dolores Claiborne because I don’t have a need to be that scared ever again.

Tired of reading yet? I hope not, because I’m finally getting to the point. Before Dolores Claiborne, I thought the horror genre solely dealt with monsters like Dracula and Frankenstein’s creation and Wolfman and the Mummy and the Blob and so on. Monsters were cool, dude, not scary. You rooted for them, and even though you knew the good guy would eventually vanquish them, you knew they’d be back. Wanted them to come back. Horror wasn’t scary. Horror was awesome. Dolores Claiborne was not awesome. It was terrifying. I would go on to read everything King ever published, not because I enjoyed Dolores Claiborne, but because Stephen King, armed with nothing but words, managed to extract from me a fear so life altering I’ve spent my entire adult years trying to recreate the magic. Funny thing is, Dolores Claiborne isn’t really a horror novel. Neither is The Wizard of Oz, The Bible, or One Flew Over the Cockoo’s Nest, but those three books scared the shit out of me too.

The scariest monsters are real. They’re your friends and neighbors and family members. They’re you.

30 Day Book Challenge – Day 25

Day 25 – A character who you can relate to the most.

Victoria McQueen’s pudgy teddy bear of a hubby, Lou Carmody. This is a guy that will do anything to protect his family, including ignoring a possible heart attack so he can help save his son. Aside from motorcycles, Lou and I share a great deal in common. We could both lose quite a few pounds. We’re both married to women who we don’t think we deserve; women who love us dearly, and completely, and we haven’t the first idea as to why. There are other reasons, but they’d be spoilers for those of you who haven’t read this amazing book. 

(Author’s Note: One last chance. NOS4A2 lands once more on this count down. Which remaining day will it be? First person to guess correctly wins an audiobook of their choosing.)

30 Day Book Challenge – Day 24

Day 24 – A book that you wish more people would’ve read.

Night Film. Period. Over and done with.

 

 

 

 

 

30 Day Book Challenge – Day 23

Day 23 – A book you wanted to read for a long time but still haven’t.

Warm Bodies, By Isaac Marion. My buddy, Nettie, sent me this book as a gift a while back, but even before that I wanted to give this one a go. But every time it comes up in my queue, something else is releasing that I absolutely must read first. I know, I know, excuses, excuses, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I promise, Nettles, I’ll get to it eventually.