why hello, another week another book. this week i read:
xxii. the discomfort zone, jonathan franzen
this guy jonathan franzen, seriously, he is popping up in EVERYTHING that i've been reading recently. one of his essays from 'how to be alone' referred to how 'the corrections' came out the week before september 11, so blah blah blah. then, i was in the midst of reading this book which is somewhat of a memoir, in a less hilarious less exaggerated david sedaris kind of way, when i started also reading 'the best american essays 2004', in which one of the first is by a female writer who proceeds to develop a relationship with an unnamed male writer who proceeds to make it big with a book released the week before september 11. i mean, what? if i hadn't read these pieces within a short period of time i doubt i would have picked up the connection.
aaanyway, i enjoyed this book because he described himself as being a fundamentally ridiculous small person, and i always like when good writers write about their childhoods. hell, i even like crappy writing about childhood (to wit, i liked the childhood parts of 'memoirs of the geisha', but i never intend to read it again, the writing was so ehh)
also i watched:
20(xiii) antichrist
holy effing shit, way to be provocative, lars von trier, i've never seen anything else by you and now i don't know if i want to. sure the acting was pretty incredible, and some images were amazing in their horror and that sickening dread kind of clarity, ugh. but i mean come on, you don't have to be explicitly extreme in order to convey the crazy in a psychological thriller, to the point where it becomes patently unrealistic and shocking for the sake of being shocking.
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