New Books!

I mentioned that I was at Powell's books today; here's what I bought:

Hazan
This is an updated and expanded edition of a cookbook I used to cook out of all the time until an ex took it in the breakup (to be fair, it was her book, even though she never used it). I bought it used, and I am quite happy to have this back in my possession.

Also:

Quixote
Motherfucking Don Quixote. Every now and then, I get the urge to tackle an immense book like this. I leafed through it in the store: the translation appears to be excellent and full of life. I'll let you know how successful I am tilting at this windmill (see what I did there?).

Only in Oregon?

A sign standing sign on the walk outside of the mall that houses the Beaverton branch of Powell's Books reads thusly:

Warning! BIRD PROTECTING NEST ABOVE. Use caution! Bird tends to swoop down without warning!

This was a large, glossy sign that appeared to have been expensive to make. I love this part of the world.

Eegah! Fire Scare Thog! But Pretty Girl Soothe Thog's Wary Mind! Thog Buy Things from Her!

Blonde
The last four times I've gone into my bank, they have tried to sell me on this account upgrade and a virtually free credit report from all three agencies, and every time I've turned them down. Today, I went through with it, and now have a comprehensive (and scary) credit report. Why did I suddenly change my mind?

Easy: this time the person selling me was ridiculously cute. The photo above is not a photo of her, of course: it's just a random image I grabbed off the Internet. If anything, she was cuter than this, not just physically, but her whole attitude was just adorable as hell. She was so new in her job that she didn't even have business cards yet, and she sort of giggled at some of her flubs and was slightly nervous about the whole thing, possibly because she was unused to serving customers who possess such blistering sexual charisma (but probably just because she was new in her position).

And her last name, if I'm reading her handwriting correctly, is Hotya, which is maybe the best name ever for a cute blond woman.

Anyway, every time I think I'm some sort of "evolved gentleman" and above such things, along comes a pretty girl to remind me that I'm nothing more than a big, dumb male.

All That Glitters, or Something...Look, I Had to Work "Glitter" into the Title Somehow

On the one hand, I believe that the "glittering" of Newt Gingrich is fucking hilarious, because, you know, it's Newt Gingrich, and somebody dumped glitter on him. That's just funny.

On the other hand, I don't approve of these kinds of attacks, no matter how deserving the target or how silly the attack or how much I sympathize with the attacker. It's still a fucking attack, and you are not going to advance your agenda in any meaningful way by dumping glitter on Newt Gingrich.

If you want to affect real change, leave the grade-school art supplies at home and get involved in the process. The only thing lazier than complaining about shit on the Internet is making a tacky spectacle at a book signing, then pretending you accomplished something.

Anybody can throw glitter, or a pie, or a shoe. But can you write letters, organize people, and persuade? Maybe you should try that next time.

My Apologies

I really don't intend for every post I make here on Posterous to be about the flaws and failures of Tumblr, but JESUS, the fucking drama! Everybody's all in some panty-twist over there about something right now, and just visiting my dashboard to check in with old friends is such a fucking chore. I think the only way I can even stand to visit over there is if I go through the people I read with a large scythe and just gut my dash.

I'm sure I'll eventually get there with this place, too, if I can find enough people worth reading.

Posterous, promise me you'll never become like high school. I already did that. I don't need to do it again at the place I go to to read creative people and be (hopefully) funny.