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So many pages of utter nonsense followed by half a chapter of straightforward storytelling: clear, relatable and personal insight into the dissatisfied Gerty, who will probably not appear anywhere else in this book. Soon an inner monologue from pervy Leo hurls the readers back into the masculine mind of modernist machismo, far from a Charlotte Brontë or Virginia Woolf the former half of this feminine chapter evokes.

I am well beyond the point of even wondering what is going on in the narrative. It is a shell game of a story that works as a rambling account of drunken speech caught at pubs dotted across Dublin. So take that, Patricio Velasquez, Hokopoko Harakiri and Miss Priscilla Elderflower; Joyce sure got your number! Meanwhile, mild-mannered Leopold continues to be the brunt of many off-colour comments; is he really the hero?

A chapter on justice borders on political issues that bring protesters out with placards and pundits a chance to mutter about the constitution, but the focus here, as with the next two chapters, is on the temperament of people choosing to be just, prudent or continent. Some passage suggest that others are unable to be anything but the opposite of these ethical qualities, but even at our worst, he accepts one and all.

Long gone are clinical observations of pupil dilation or synapses firing, no more helping people explore their mind; from here on out, Nobel Prize-winner Kahneman only seems to be concerned with Econ and the things his subjects will do for money. Had I not just read Watts’ Just So, I might have bought into dangling-carrots as wisdom, but now can’t stop thinking of money as a measure and wealth ineffable.

The wheels of life and fortune are ultimately a source of misery for everyone on these circular paths; not exactly the newest idea on the planet, but all of the really good ideas are reiterated from ancients and mystics. It would seem unfair to criticize Watts for mouthing these truths until you hear his voice and notice how masterful he is in the role of present-day sage, simply talking of the mandala we are all in.

The final section collects many of the haiku without the context of where in the various journeys they belong, a few of them being read just a few pages ago. And yet the attractive property of this unlabelled collection is the romanji sounds of the original Japanese, showing how clumsy and overstuffed any translation will be, despite closely following the arbitrary rules haiku masters would move beyond, not bound to.

Ours is a wiggly world that can’t be straightened out by following any rational plans, just to accept the present without any of the past nor future’s baggage. Watts insists on his listeners to figure out what works, not putting too much trust in gurus or perhaps even his own advice. He just likes talking about things like this. And yet once we start loosening up and swinging, we can’t count on it being satori.

Watts must have been a time-traveller, to accurately broadcast in the 1960s many issues with economics that seem to be still working themselves out in the present day. Of course, his distinction between money and wealth may have been ignored by a majority of people doomed to continue this wasteful materialist misunderstanding, and yet spiritual/materialists like Suzuki, Theobald and Watts may eventually save the day.

The continuing journeys of Basho and a couple of his fellow poets seem to go nowhere in particular, just around to friendly inns and temples, taking his leisurely time to jot down a couple haiku that are as short yet poignant as the books themselves. In each place, a poem marks off the unremarkably unique moment that then becomes bits of beauty and wonder, all because this literate wanderer took time to practice art.

Not your grandfather’s Doctor Strange, kids, except for that one ish of Strange Tales where he defeated Loki. Here the risks are greater as the former Sorcerer Supreme resorts to savage methods and becomes a god then transforms into a nefarious Void. Meanwhile Loki remains aloof, barely involved with Strange’s all-or-nothing plan. Nice callback to The Oath as I read each book synchronicitiously.

Much of this musical chapter relies on odd arrangements of familiar snatches from opera to drinking songs, but the men gathering at Ormond Hotel have something less melodious in mind, a bump and grind with two barmaids and somehow Molly Bloom’s name gets bantered about even with Leopold somewhere in the room, or out for a walk, or who really knows what is going on. I’m barely a third of the way through this book!

Trapped in some pocket dimension between the Cinematic Universe and whatever was happening in Marvel comic, it is great to see how the tables have turned with Stephen gone to the dogs while Loki seems to be up to some good? Much of the plot is a pastiche of the famous House of M where Loki wants “no more rules” by cozying up to the one person, yet another of Strange’s love interests, who will grant it.

After a decade of fraught academic struggling over ethics as a sublime state of scholarship, it is both a relief and a laugh to read that a majority of Aristotle’s analysis (so far, at least) is a simple catalogue of what makes a good person good and other qualities excessive or deficient. Why has about twenty-three centuries of learning made such a mess out of ethics? All Aristotle tries to say is how to be happy.

Incredible how astutely tuned in Watts was, considering how culture (both British heritage and American exceptionalist) wants to tune out the harms being done to society, so ready to take the conservative view that new-fangled technology is to blame for society’s woes. Here, Watts is enthusiastic towards technology (or at least ambivalent about its material forms), but wary of television and hologram tying us back.

Additional material for a DVD extra, we at least get to see Dr. Hilt in action and hopefully a larger role for him on the suddenly obsolete format. Can’t say I am impressed by whomever Hilt’s colleague Lorenzo claims to be as he dismisses the sorcerer as a charlatan when he at least should have recognized him from David Letterman, as Dr. West would later report. Perhaps Lorenzo is more of a Leno fan? Makes sense!

The Finale pushes two masters of mystical arts to extreme measures, as both Strange and West cast spells and resort to fisticuffs on the Timely rooftop. For each moment of innovation and ingenuity with comic storytelling, the climax relies on the two most often-used cinematic tropes in action/adventure genre: bad guy falls from great height and good guy gets the girl in the end. Clea might take issue with the latter.

The urbane Sorcerer Supreme matches might with a Marrrakant Hellguard, fighting fire with recently acquired firepower, and traces down its origin to Timely Pharmaceuticals’ silver bullet, Nicodemus West. Not only was he the surgeon responsible for healing Strange, going so far as to train with the Ancient One, but also has his own master plan for saving humanity by preventing them from receiving a hard-won panacea.

Specifics on satori, practical methods and koan exercises are more than just familiar topics by now, but passages I have read in others books. Nonetheless, something has changed their importance or significance, most likely myself reading these words again from a vastly different place in spacetime and what I am paying attention to now is the limitation of the intellect, how the rational mind becomes a burden to Zen.

Are all of Doctor Strange’s mystical foes such common knowledge that a murderous thief like Brigand or the mild-mannered antagonist Nicodemus West able to threaten Stephen? Seems like Doc would have kept tighter wraps on these supernatural terrors. Or is the Book of Vishanti chronicling each moment for other overlords with their own nefarious plans? Perhaps it is, as Wong claims, a collective consciousness at work.

Imagine if the story of Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby" was being told by a Tamarian (from the classic Next Generation episode 'Darmok') and it somehow would make more sense than the random events jotted down in this chapter. A closer analysis might reveal the antisemitism of Irish clergy or the seediness of bookseller's stalls. Could incidents here impact on later events in this story? "Shaka when the walls fell."

The Eye of Agamotto speaks!! The splash page narrating the present situation will probably be used sparingly in future issues, yet it lends an introspective otherworldly point of view to the mundane medical drama of bullet wounds or the cure for cancer. Stephen “Sherlock” Strange provides the mind-body intelligence to seeks clues in his past, much like what Alan Watts wrote about and his Watson’s personal care.

A refreshing way to catch up with the long history of the Sorcerer Supreme as well as the daily doings of superheroes in need of medical attention. Vaughan builds on the established lore while also calling to question an awkward master-and-servant relationship between Stephen and Wong. The Night Nurse may just be a regular citizen with her own back story that could come into play at a crucial point in this short run.

While the translator weaves in more metaphysical touches, the epic journey feels more like a jaunt this time, visiting some captivating east coast locations before Basho’s homeward turns to a more familiar west coast. Local legends and literary allusions captivate the poet who writes more on his connection with others: innkeepers, guides, other poets, making this Narrow Road reveal the breadth of humanity.

The thought experiments devised by Prof. Kahneman seem to fall into a predictable pattern: he creates a profile of fictional person and asks students to determine the career path of the made-up case study. Often he reports how easily they fall into obvious assumptions - isn’t that the purpose he is testing? Seems a bit dubious that he himself has the story straight and just who is his book helping, hedgehog or fox?

Amazingly insightful about everything yet aloof enough to be not at all bothered by demonstrating when his sources of information comes from: a Zen monk, a physicist, you. Watts is infamously anti-academic and hearing his word, first as a radio broadcast to be copied in print by his son, makes all types of human knowledge seem personal while retaining it otherworldly distinctions and going with let’s us in on it.

Such an intriguing and unexpected author to draw together so many ideas about beginnings, why didn’t Said start off by discussing him at length rather than Vico’s “Doctrines” epigraph that gets quoted again in the final chapter? How the New Science addresses the old world in eloquent ways is a sign that perhaps the academic camps poststructuralist theorists find themselves in are in over their heads.

Such an intriguing and unexpected author to mention at the conclusion of his study, why didn’t Said start with Vico right away (rather than the “Doctrines” quote as the epithet, repeated again at the start of the final chapter

Normally I would enjoy a bit of Shakespearean trivia, sprinkled into a story but here all of it (a century’s worth and being the nineteenth, way too much) spoils the broth. What is actually happening, dare I ask? Are Stephen and colleagues publishing an article on Hamlet, preparing for a symposium, or just shooting the breeze? Whereas I once would have savoured so much erudition, now I rue its toxic taste.

The simplicity of a haiku and the elegance of travel writing are two literary items that seem easy enough to explain on the surface but have many ineffable qualities that make it as if the only way to know the subjects is to be a poet writing them. Hamill takes a less conventional approach to introducing Basho to his western audience: feels like treading on familiar ground (in my case true) but also for a first time.

An intriguing one-off story that combines A Winter’s Tale, Twelfth Night and Titus yet only tangentially connects to the main Kill Shakespeare storyline as the two heroines band together to hunt down Lady Macbeth. Time rather than stone statues should have been the antagonists, as Viola could have said to Perdita “O time, thou must untangle this, not I” tied Perdita’s knot.