The Library

I foolishly went to the library this afternoon by myself, with an hour of nothing on my docket. It was only foolish because Bozo the Clown was there, and I waited in line for 45 minutes to get my balloon dog that looks more like a German U-Boat that it does a Dachshund. It doesn't bark either, which was a bit of a disappointment. However, with my remaining ten minutes (I had to hurry home to roll my quarters, a task that was long overdue) I successfully crammed three digital video discs into the slot to save time filing them in individually, which allowed me a few precious moments to ponder the Utopian concept of libraries.
Allow the recapturing to begin: I concluded today- after six microseconds- that the library has everything I need in life, and all for free nonetheless. For entertainment, there are movies, books, music, and occasionally Bozo the Clown. To stay up with current events there are newspapers, magazines, and often televisions. For food, there is a waterfountain, an address which accommodates deliverymen (unless your library only has a PO box and therefore no address), and a staff fridge which is always stocked full of brown bag lunches (the circulation librarian brings the best sandwiches, or so I've heard on the DL). For sociality, there are plenty of patrons to chat with, and love, as long as you use whispered tones (which could contribute to a friend becoming a lover. Whispered tones always do that. It's amazing more people don't fall in love in the library). For exercise, there are stairs and plenty of encyclopedias to lift. For sleep, there are very comfy chairs in the newspaper room. If you ever doubt that, just ask one of the senior citizens snoozing in one on any given day. Really, the library has everything I need. I love it there, and if you are ever discouraged during Finals week when it's 11:52 and you are still studying away, just remember what brio you could have for the fine institution known as a Book Building. Like America, love it or leave it.

Jude The Obscure- A Book Opinion

One of the unforseen side effects, perhaps, of a television-less upbringing is a love for reading. Researchers never saw that one coming! When you don't have a television and you are 11 years old and it's a Saturday, and you've already sharpened every pencil in the house (including mechanical, manical ones, and even a few pens by accident), and you have fed the fish several times out of boredom- almost to the point of their death- then there's not much else to do but pull out a great book and start bringing the characters to life. Now that I am older, and I understand that pens don't need to be sharpened and that fish can't remember when to stop eating because their memory is shorter than a reality show romance, I still have the ablility to enjoy reading. Each Summer I take the sacred opportunity as a literate American to delve into great books- last year it was short stories by F. Scott Fitzgerald and this year, so far, it has been Jude the Obscure by 'the greatest tragic writer among English novelists'- Thomas Hardy*. Out of the one novel I have read by one tragic English novelist, I would whole-heartedly agree with Miss Woolf.
My Mother recommended this 1895 novel to me in June as I was embarking for Europe. I began on my plane ride over there, but her ultimate plan of raising me without a television backfired because there was a movie showing that I chose to watch instead of reading (seeing as I have 23 years of rotting to catch up with). Anywho, I dragged this novel around three nations, hardly dipping into its majesty until I came full circle back home. I decided to really give this book a chance since the author and my brother share a first given name. I was not disappointed.

The novel was written with such poise that it was an enlightening delight to open each day. The protagonist is an impecunious and acquisitive man seeking to accomplish ecclesiastical excellence early in his years. But, his heart unintentionally follows a different stroke and he falls in love with a barmaiden. They two of them enter a shallow, official marriage and he is forced to work as a stonemason to suppory their prematurely wilting arrangement. Eventually they agree to separate and Jude continues on in his pursuit of the Priesthood until he meets another lady, this one a consanguineous cousin called Carla. (No, her name was Sue. But Sue doesn't start with a C, so I went with Carla.) I'll admit, I kind of fell in love with Sue at first becuase of Hardy's romantic description of her. She must have been beautiful... The novel appears to progress nicely from there, except that Sue is betrothed to Jude's childhood idol (David Beckham), further throwing confusion into the mele. Tragedies unfold, lives twist like ivy on a rose, and life comes back to where it started. I won't spoil the ending, but I will give you further reasons to read this book:

1. It has endnotes- a guarantee that you are smart if you are reading it. Footnotes would be one thing, but endnotes are the ultimate sign of intellegentsia. I actually read them, and they taught me about many desultory items that you too could learn if you read them. I would recommed reading the endnotes in the context of the novel, however. They are a little dry when naked.


2. Several times as I was reading I would stop in severe amazement at a sentence and think to myself, 'That alone could be the cornerstone of this novel.' Hardy treated every line like it was a precious mineral behind protective glass. His superhuman descriptions used a vernacular that would impress even Samuel Johnson.


3. The cover of my paperback edition has a portrait by John Singer Sargent, equating two respective masters of artistry. That's a good reason to read it if I ever heard one.


4. As a late nineteenth century English novel, it really helped me escape today's America and teleport to an alternate lifestyle. I loved the archaic spelling and the traditional customs of Jude and his lovers. This novel portrays Sue as a feminist, and it challenges the formal thinking of its day. I thought it was very tastefully done and applicable to our crazy world today.

The world today is filled to the brim- yea, overflowing- with great literature. It's hard to know what is the best option to persue, and frankly it differs person by person. I'm not sure if there is a best book list for any one person. But, Jude the Obscure has an official David's Holla Atchya! recommendation, and if you choose (or chose) to read it I would love to discuss it with you. Let me know what you liked or didn't like about it.

* Virginia Woolf quote

Sticking With My Team- The Boston Red Sox

My roommate, David Ortiz, getting out of the shower. He's hustling as usual, to make sure there is enough hot water for me (what a great guy).

David and David sharing a moment. We are hugging, in case it wasn't abundantly clear.

My roommate, David Oritz. He's quiet, friendly, and I have never seen any sketchy behavior out of him- and certainly no steroid use.

When I began this blog sixteen months ago, I clearly stated in the preamble: "Some things that interest me that will probably be hashed and hashed over again until I pass out include the presidential election, the Red Sox & baseball in general, college, food, movies, current events, religion, exercising, and my convivial social life." (Yes, all of those are egotistical links to my own blog, thus proving what I started out to do last year. It took me about seventy-three days to create all those hyperlinks that no one is going to follow anyway, but I find it very important to be a man of my word, so if nothing else they are hollow proof that I have accomplished the feats of an honest man.) I found it surprising that the only one of my original topics yet to be postulated is religion. However, seeing as it's Saturday, we'll talk about baseball.

If you aren't much of a baseball devotee you may not be aware that my roommate, David Ortiz, was just listed as a steroid user in 2003. The headlines on the Boston Globe the next day pronounced, "Steroid Scandal Hits Home" and there were three misanthropic, cynical articles ripping the Boston hero apart like a good Michael Scott roast. Ortiz did not even know he tested positive that year, and he didn't know what he tested positive for! Maybe he ate a poppyseed bagel that morning! Maybe he was being secretly given supplements in the Dominican Republic that he thought were just "Flintstones's Kids Multivitamins." Seriously, give the guy the benefit of the doubt! Dan Shaughnessy wrote an animus article against a Red Sox Championship in '04 and '07, nearly denouncing the titles and claiming, "We were better cheaters than you." Does he know that steroids were not illegial in the MLB in 2003 and that there is a dearth of evidence against Big Papi since then? I don't deny that there was (and still is) a plague of 'roids milling around the incestuous clubhouses of American's Pasttime, but we need to stick with our boys until the evidence is abundently clear! For the time being, I am a huge David Ortiz fan, especially seeing as he is my roommate. I have a cut out of him in the room across from mine, where he sleeps. The whole time he's been there I've never seen him use any steroids or do anything suspicious. He's just as friendly as ever, although he often sneaks up on my and makes me jump a little, out of fright for his 6'4", 230 lbs frame. He is a large man. Anyway, our titles in 2004 and 2007 are no more tainted than anyone else's, and they came about through a different kind of chemistry, that of team building and a relaxed clubhouse. Way to go Red Sox, Way to go. Seriously, Way to Go.