Well let me say one thing, if nothing else, Robert Jordan loves the set up. Once again the pace has been a dead crawl for at least 3/4's of the book. Actually in this book its at a pretty steady but slow pace until the last 100 pages really. And this is a loooong book. However, I do like how things happen at the slow pace. Lots of great Forsaken drama going on in this one. There's more character development and chatter at the differences between men and women. There's the battle for power in Rand Al'Thor's head between him and the mad Lews Therin. And there are some other fairly interesting developments that I do not want to spoil.
But by the time you get to the oh, I don't know 800th page, you start to wonder, is this the book where no big huge thing happens at the end? Which is pretty much how all the books have been, though the first 3 had a lot more going on during the bulk of the book then the second 3. But, no disappointment once again Robert Jordan hits you with some pretty nutty occurrences. I won't go into detail, but know that crazy shit happens at the end.
So, just to talk a little about Robert Jordan's writing style, I'd like to bring up his pacing. This is one of the things that has bothered so many people who have read his books. This is the reason many people I know have never made it to the end of the series. I guess the issue is, that to call the climax of Robert Jordan's books a crescendo I think would not be correct. Instead they're more like an abrupt accelerando or tempo change. And the worst part is, by the way the books are written through the beginning, they make you think that it will go on at that pace for the rest of the series. Which is why I understand discouragement. At the same time, for me, the occurrences at the ends of the books are quite jarring. This may have been his intention, but at the same time it almost feels more like he was biding his time. Surely you don't want the important things to happen too quickly, but at the same time, you wonder why there's only one in each book. I guess I'm coming to the question "of are all the books necessary?"
Dangerous grounds surely. And it is his series not mine. Like I said, it may very well have been his intention. And I also admitted to enjoying much of the slow parts, even if some just seem like milling around. They do set up a lot of things and offer flavor and context. But the pacing manages to throw me off every damn time. Anyway, on to the next one "A Crown of Swords." We'll see how this one unfolds.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Book Review: The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
This is the story of an evil curse and one man's quest to defeat it through love. This is the story of a family of Dominicans and their immigration to the US. This is the story an obese uber nerd. There's a hundred ways I could summarize this book, and they all happen simultaneously. Couple this with writing that is at times deep like poetry but always fast paced and keeping you turning the pages. The book is epic, the scope impressive, this all coming from a guy who loves multi-volume 900 page fantasy epics.
The language in the book is striking. It is told in a conversational manner but mixes in Spanish expressions (if you don't speak Spanish, you can still get the gist or even figure out what the expressions mean. Junot Diaz is a master of this). Also every page is loaded with nerd references that will make even the slightest nerd go "what! no way Jose!" The book really almost reads too fast. Once I started it, I basically wanted to spend all my time reading it. But because of the pace, it would not be hard to finish it "by accident" in one sitting. Or at least less sittings than I'd rather have. It's a joy to read.
I knew the author was good, I had read his book of short stories Drown. The best part is, the stories of Dominicans in the US and Latin American immigration are a topic that has never really appealed to me. Or at least hadn't ever before. But in Drown I was so captured by the dudes amazing writing style. He pulls you in. When I heard that he had written the novel, and what the premise was, I knew I had to read it. Who else could basically turn a real life, legitimate fucked up Latin American dictator (Trujillo), into basically Sauron. Yeah he does this, but you won't know how until you read the book.
The language in the book is striking. It is told in a conversational manner but mixes in Spanish expressions (if you don't speak Spanish, you can still get the gist or even figure out what the expressions mean. Junot Diaz is a master of this). Also every page is loaded with nerd references that will make even the slightest nerd go "what! no way Jose!" The book really almost reads too fast. Once I started it, I basically wanted to spend all my time reading it. But because of the pace, it would not be hard to finish it "by accident" in one sitting. Or at least less sittings than I'd rather have. It's a joy to read.
I knew the author was good, I had read his book of short stories Drown. The best part is, the stories of Dominicans in the US and Latin American immigration are a topic that has never really appealed to me. Or at least hadn't ever before. But in Drown I was so captured by the dudes amazing writing style. He pulls you in. When I heard that he had written the novel, and what the premise was, I knew I had to read it. Who else could basically turn a real life, legitimate fucked up Latin American dictator (Trujillo), into basically Sauron. Yeah he does this, but you won't know how until you read the book.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
The Finals
The time has come. The forces do clash. Their thunder will be heard around the world.
The Blackhawks and The Flyers
Old heroes be dashed and monsters be slain, the final battle is upon us. There is no tactic the to base for the Flyers and there is no force fiercer than the tribe. It will be violent and hard fought, neither yielding an inch, the only ground to be gained is that which can be taken. Any second of underestimation could turn the battle on a dime. Every move will be a strike for the jugular. They have both fought long and hard to make it to this moment. To the victor, the spoils, to the fallen, bitter loss. Tooth and nail to the bloody end. Let the worthy rise.
Blackhawks in 5.
The Blackhawks and The Flyers
Old heroes be dashed and monsters be slain, the final battle is upon us. There is no tactic the to base for the Flyers and there is no force fiercer than the tribe. It will be violent and hard fought, neither yielding an inch, the only ground to be gained is that which can be taken. Any second of underestimation could turn the battle on a dime. Every move will be a strike for the jugular. They have both fought long and hard to make it to this moment. To the victor, the spoils, to the fallen, bitter loss. Tooth and nail to the bloody end. Let the worthy rise.
Blackhawks in 5.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Stanley Cup Playoffs Conference Championships
Epic battles have been waged in the east, the long drawn out slaying of heroes, and the bizarre surges of the unexpected. All who should be weary, are too late. The damage is done. The odds have been beaten again and again as though the dice thrown have inverted themselves. Those who saw a clear path have seen those paths suddenly erased. There will be a new champion this year.
Eastern Conference Championship: Montreal Canadiens and the Philadelphia Flyers
The ghosts of many winters passed have been rising from the streets of old Montreal. They can feel it. Others saw the odds stacked against them, but they saw opportunity for glory and never missed a beat. They have defeated the Giants and the Heroes as though possessed. Their opponents may be stunned, but Les Habitants are merely looking forward to the next to fall.
The Flying bandits of Philadelphia have accomplished the seeming impossible. With their numbers down, on their last desperate breath, hope all but a memory, they have clawed their way back. Many would have called them mad or dim to even think about this day and yet here they are. They know more than any that it's not over till it's over and they will claw and tear and rip and scrape and do whatever it takes until they have been taken down for good.
Montreal Canadiens in 6.
Western Conference Championship: The San Jose Sharks and The Chicago Blackhawks
Apparently machines do not function very well in water. Corroded by rust and torn apart by vicious fish the winged wheel has sunk for good. But the fish are still hungry. Their sense of blood is stronger than ever, they can feel it in the water. Where will the next meal come from? They circle in anticipation ready to strike.
The tribes prepare for turbulent waters. The Canucks had been an annoying tick, now it is time to go fishing. Boats prepared, spears ready there will be blood in the water, but who's? Can they handle the furious strong fish or will theirs be the next boat to sink? They must bate their hooks carefully and hold on for dear life, spears ready, they will not have many chances and only those who persevere will survive.
Sharks in 6
Eastern Conference Championship: Montreal Canadiens and the Philadelphia Flyers
The ghosts of many winters passed have been rising from the streets of old Montreal. They can feel it. Others saw the odds stacked against them, but they saw opportunity for glory and never missed a beat. They have defeated the Giants and the Heroes as though possessed. Their opponents may be stunned, but Les Habitants are merely looking forward to the next to fall.
The Flying bandits of Philadelphia have accomplished the seeming impossible. With their numbers down, on their last desperate breath, hope all but a memory, they have clawed their way back. Many would have called them mad or dim to even think about this day and yet here they are. They know more than any that it's not over till it's over and they will claw and tear and rip and scrape and do whatever it takes until they have been taken down for good.
Montreal Canadiens in 6.
Western Conference Championship: The San Jose Sharks and The Chicago Blackhawks
Apparently machines do not function very well in water. Corroded by rust and torn apart by vicious fish the winged wheel has sunk for good. But the fish are still hungry. Their sense of blood is stronger than ever, they can feel it in the water. Where will the next meal come from? They circle in anticipation ready to strike.
The tribes prepare for turbulent waters. The Canucks had been an annoying tick, now it is time to go fishing. Boats prepared, spears ready there will be blood in the water, but who's? Can they handle the furious strong fish or will theirs be the next boat to sink? They must bate their hooks carefully and hold on for dear life, spears ready, they will not have many chances and only those who persevere will survive.
Sharks in 6
Thursday, April 29, 2010
The NHL Eastern Conference Finals
It seems the eastern conference has been inverted. The arrogant mighty defeated by the solidarity of those underestimated. But who will move on?
The Pittsburgh Penguins and The Montreal Canadiens
The bigger they are, the harder they fall. And an earthquake of fallen giants can be heard throughout the land. Whispers spread like plague, rumors that the mighty Capitals have been defeated. They quickly become stories of old ghosts possessing the leftovers charged with restoring their glory. New legends are born and the hum of hope flows up and down the Saint Lawrence River for the first time in ages. Could the elder gods be coming back to reclaim what is theirs? A legend only the future holds.
Steel in hand wrought from the great Steel City of their origin the flightless birds re-organize in anticipation. Their swords, washed in the blood of nobles, are still quite sharp. The coup in Canada was not as easy as planned, but nothing ever seems to go quite as planned these days. These are odd times. The rumors that travel along the rivers bring word of legendary defeats. Could their new foe be so strong to have defeated the might giants in the Capital? It seems ludicrous, but there has been talk of ghosts. The supernatural always seems to muddle things up. How will these ghosts fair against the edges of cold steel?
Penguins in 5
The Boston Bruins and the Philadelphia Flyers
Let it not be said that the old bears are weak. They are not stupid either. The Sabres proved too small to do anything with their speed and the fierce claws of the black and gold made short work of them. Heroes mean nothing when the rest of the company is battered to pieces. And so the Bear turns its face to a new foe. This one notorious for cruelty. The Bruins of Boston will face the Flyers like they always have, with the cold weight of duty and a look in their eye that cannot be distinguished between weary and fury.
To hell and back again, only this group of flying bandits could have done it. Only ones so base that they could match the Devil move for move. As they soon found out, most of the Devil's strength is just a facade. Pulling images from former years trying to ward off the truth, that even Devil's don't live in glory for ever. The losses however were grave. The payment was necessary but felt by all, no one gets out of New Jersey that easily. So now they turn to the old bears. The stalwarts, to stubborn to die. Now it is time to prove that even the stubborn can die.
Flyers in 7
The Pittsburgh Penguins and The Montreal Canadiens
The bigger they are, the harder they fall. And an earthquake of fallen giants can be heard throughout the land. Whispers spread like plague, rumors that the mighty Capitals have been defeated. They quickly become stories of old ghosts possessing the leftovers charged with restoring their glory. New legends are born and the hum of hope flows up and down the Saint Lawrence River for the first time in ages. Could the elder gods be coming back to reclaim what is theirs? A legend only the future holds.
Steel in hand wrought from the great Steel City of their origin the flightless birds re-organize in anticipation. Their swords, washed in the blood of nobles, are still quite sharp. The coup in Canada was not as easy as planned, but nothing ever seems to go quite as planned these days. These are odd times. The rumors that travel along the rivers bring word of legendary defeats. Could their new foe be so strong to have defeated the might giants in the Capital? It seems ludicrous, but there has been talk of ghosts. The supernatural always seems to muddle things up. How will these ghosts fair against the edges of cold steel?
Penguins in 5
The Boston Bruins and the Philadelphia Flyers
Let it not be said that the old bears are weak. They are not stupid either. The Sabres proved too small to do anything with their speed and the fierce claws of the black and gold made short work of them. Heroes mean nothing when the rest of the company is battered to pieces. And so the Bear turns its face to a new foe. This one notorious for cruelty. The Bruins of Boston will face the Flyers like they always have, with the cold weight of duty and a look in their eye that cannot be distinguished between weary and fury.
To hell and back again, only this group of flying bandits could have done it. Only ones so base that they could match the Devil move for move. As they soon found out, most of the Devil's strength is just a facade. Pulling images from former years trying to ward off the truth, that even Devil's don't live in glory for ever. The losses however were grave. The payment was necessary but felt by all, no one gets out of New Jersey that easily. So now they turn to the old bears. The stalwarts, to stubborn to die. Now it is time to prove that even the stubborn can die.
Flyers in 7
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
NHL Playoffs Western Conference Semifinals.
The San Jose Sharks vs. The Detroit Red Wings
Almost falling apart at the seams, just barely holding together the big red machine rolls through the desert. The sand had gotten into the joints and the clever coyotes had almost solved its great weakness. On the verge of sputtering out of control it is trying to work out that blasted sand. Trying to become well oiled once more, for its new destination is the sea. And if the dirt is still caught in the gears by then it could stick and become permanent. Its only choice to do what it has always done, work its problems out in its own time, while the hive mind of computers inside send out messages: the winged wheel is coming.
The Sharks look up from their meal to sea an image painted in the sky. A round red thing with feathers shooting out one side, a new meal perhaps? Someone was coming for sure, but who? They begin to swim in circles around the watery grave of the mountain men, brave but not so smart to think that they could have invaded their waters. Everyone who came here was food. The Sharks show their rows and rows of teeth, they are not afraid.
When it turns out there is a machine in their midst, confusion enters their vicious minds. Metal does not sound like a very savory meal. Still this was an invader like any other, could metal break under teeth like any other body? Not to mention can the machine survive underwater, their circles became more intense and the brains racked with both nervousness and excitement. A new kind of meal all together.
The machine had a trick up its sleeve. The hive mind conferring, the joints of the metal beast creaking it did not just roll into the water, it created a long smooth hull. To bring this fight to the fish the machine must be smart and resourceful. Must stay one step ahead least those massive jaws come crashing down and sink it. In the sky, the message of the Winged Wheel remained.
Red Wings in 6
The Chicago Blackhawks and The Vancouver Canucks
The Blackhawks returned from their successful hunting trip. It is one thing to hunt, another to hunt a Predator. The massive carcass had been cut up into many pieces and split up to be carried by horses. They would be not be hungry for a long time. But upon reaching their home, there was an eerie stir in the air, something strangely familiar.
"Oh hey brother remember us?" It was them, the ones who had come last year, the bloody Canucks. The Blackhawks had drove them off with spear and tomahawk. Hadn't they learned their lesson?
"Get off our land you unholy Canadians," The Blackhawks had grim looks on their faces.
The Canucks only smiled, smirked, laughed even. What was so funny? They had been driven off, the Blackhawks had proved their superiority. Those Canadians had run to the hills frightened like a school child running he thought was under his bed. The captured had been scalped. Now they stood here with their smug faces and their laughter, their clever japes and prods. Did they not know the stakes were the same as they had always been? The dangers no different? Maybe they had to learn that lesson again.
"He looks angry eh?" The Canucks looked at each other grinning, "What you think this is the same as last year right? You think we'd stay away right? Think we'd learn our lesson right?" He licked his lips into a sneer, "Well this year eh, this year we're gonna teach you a lesson. We've caused the downfall of empires, deposed Kings, what's a small tribe of stinkin' Injuns to that?"
The Blackhawks clenched their fists. Fury ran through their veins. These insolent punks, what did they have, what the fuck did they have that they thought they could put down legendary warriors. No one escapes this time, scalp them all.
Canucks in 6.
Almost falling apart at the seams, just barely holding together the big red machine rolls through the desert. The sand had gotten into the joints and the clever coyotes had almost solved its great weakness. On the verge of sputtering out of control it is trying to work out that blasted sand. Trying to become well oiled once more, for its new destination is the sea. And if the dirt is still caught in the gears by then it could stick and become permanent. Its only choice to do what it has always done, work its problems out in its own time, while the hive mind of computers inside send out messages: the winged wheel is coming.
The Sharks look up from their meal to sea an image painted in the sky. A round red thing with feathers shooting out one side, a new meal perhaps? Someone was coming for sure, but who? They begin to swim in circles around the watery grave of the mountain men, brave but not so smart to think that they could have invaded their waters. Everyone who came here was food. The Sharks show their rows and rows of teeth, they are not afraid.
When it turns out there is a machine in their midst, confusion enters their vicious minds. Metal does not sound like a very savory meal. Still this was an invader like any other, could metal break under teeth like any other body? Not to mention can the machine survive underwater, their circles became more intense and the brains racked with both nervousness and excitement. A new kind of meal all together.
The machine had a trick up its sleeve. The hive mind conferring, the joints of the metal beast creaking it did not just roll into the water, it created a long smooth hull. To bring this fight to the fish the machine must be smart and resourceful. Must stay one step ahead least those massive jaws come crashing down and sink it. In the sky, the message of the Winged Wheel remained.
Red Wings in 6
The Chicago Blackhawks and The Vancouver Canucks
The Blackhawks returned from their successful hunting trip. It is one thing to hunt, another to hunt a Predator. The massive carcass had been cut up into many pieces and split up to be carried by horses. They would be not be hungry for a long time. But upon reaching their home, there was an eerie stir in the air, something strangely familiar.
"Oh hey brother remember us?" It was them, the ones who had come last year, the bloody Canucks. The Blackhawks had drove them off with spear and tomahawk. Hadn't they learned their lesson?
"Get off our land you unholy Canadians," The Blackhawks had grim looks on their faces.
The Canucks only smiled, smirked, laughed even. What was so funny? They had been driven off, the Blackhawks had proved their superiority. Those Canadians had run to the hills frightened like a school child running he thought was under his bed. The captured had been scalped. Now they stood here with their smug faces and their laughter, their clever japes and prods. Did they not know the stakes were the same as they had always been? The dangers no different? Maybe they had to learn that lesson again.
"He looks angry eh?" The Canucks looked at each other grinning, "What you think this is the same as last year right? You think we'd stay away right? Think we'd learn our lesson right?" He licked his lips into a sneer, "Well this year eh, this year we're gonna teach you a lesson. We've caused the downfall of empires, deposed Kings, what's a small tribe of stinkin' Injuns to that?"
The Blackhawks clenched their fists. Fury ran through their veins. These insolent punks, what did they have, what the fuck did they have that they thought they could put down legendary warriors. No one escapes this time, scalp them all.
Canucks in 6.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
The Subliminal Man
Another fascinating JG Ballard story. This time I realized one of Ballard's best qualities: he is a master of psychological, invisible prisons. Most of his stories seem to involve this theme and there is so much to be learned from it. There are those who have trapped themselves unknowingly in psychological plots, and also those who have been trapped by others. And then even those who were once trapped and see through it and yet decide to give in. It's just fascinating, and for some reason this story in particular elucidated it for me.
This one makes an amazingly realistic prediction of consumerism. Though the premise, that they are secretly bombarded with subliminal consumerism messages, may not be exactly true for us. Though honestly it does seem as though our commercials are incredibly smart and utilize psychology to try and take advantage of people. Just watch commercials with the mute button some time and, if you didn't realize it before, you should be able to break past the veil and see that the images almost always tend to be completely random attempts at association. The best example is big breasted women showing off their bods in beer commercials.
However in JG's world there are just big screens over all the highways that project statements like "BUY NOW BUY NOW" and then when the people realize that they are constantly buying, the actions are backed up by economists insisting that it's necessary for the economy. Every moment of their lives is constantly eaten away by purchasing and working. And something I found interesting, they constantly discard old models for new ones, it being supposedly cheaper to buy new ones instead of fix the old. That certainly reminds me of computers. But in a way this creates a sort of psychological prison where the behaviors become more and more acceptable, and even though the main character seems to notice it for minutes at a time, more subliminal messages suddenly have him back on the manipulated track. Interestingly enough his wife seems to notice, but not really care. The psychological element is truly presented fully forward in this one, like a fascinating scientific study or something.
Overall, the idea, compared with our society is actually very scary and not totally unrealistic. Though I'm not sure if compulsory subliminal messages would work or are possible on a mass scale, in some ways commercials do come close. Again the exaggerated reality of Ballard's worlds is ever present, I really enjoy the way he takes something he sees and pushes it to the Nth degree.
This one makes an amazingly realistic prediction of consumerism. Though the premise, that they are secretly bombarded with subliminal consumerism messages, may not be exactly true for us. Though honestly it does seem as though our commercials are incredibly smart and utilize psychology to try and take advantage of people. Just watch commercials with the mute button some time and, if you didn't realize it before, you should be able to break past the veil and see that the images almost always tend to be completely random attempts at association. The best example is big breasted women showing off their bods in beer commercials.
However in JG's world there are just big screens over all the highways that project statements like "BUY NOW BUY NOW" and then when the people realize that they are constantly buying, the actions are backed up by economists insisting that it's necessary for the economy. Every moment of their lives is constantly eaten away by purchasing and working. And something I found interesting, they constantly discard old models for new ones, it being supposedly cheaper to buy new ones instead of fix the old. That certainly reminds me of computers. But in a way this creates a sort of psychological prison where the behaviors become more and more acceptable, and even though the main character seems to notice it for minutes at a time, more subliminal messages suddenly have him back on the manipulated track. Interestingly enough his wife seems to notice, but not really care. The psychological element is truly presented fully forward in this one, like a fascinating scientific study or something.
Overall, the idea, compared with our society is actually very scary and not totally unrealistic. Though I'm not sure if compulsory subliminal messages would work or are possible on a mass scale, in some ways commercials do come close. Again the exaggerated reality of Ballard's worlds is ever present, I really enjoy the way he takes something he sees and pushes it to the Nth degree.
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