#70

After I finished Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, which is very excellent, and by Philip K. Dick, I read And Then, by Natsume Soseki. It was tremendously fantastic. And today I finished The Sheltering Sky, by John Bowles. It was okay. Better as you go along.

Might go back and append the authors to all the books I mention, and also underline the titles. It's been weighing on me, frankly. Something feels immoral about how loose I've been playing it. The accumulation is beginning to grate. It's the first time I'd go back through the archive to make such an extensive edit. That feels wrong too, despite the fact that it's a perfectly professional, unobjectionable, objective, even arguably necessary edit. 

Dunno why I'm even discussing it. Whatever I do, I won't do it tonight.

What am I reading now, you ask? Iron John, by Robert Bly. It's kinda weird, but I dig it. It was a gift from an older dude. Let me tell you: this book reads like a gift from an older dude. I like it a lot and feel impelled to laugh at it, at its accoutrement and affect, but refrain from a kind of pity; it's a lot like how I felt about the man who gave it to me. It's not a mean laughter at all, though, and the pity fades as I age, replaced by more warmth, and I think, understanding, Young dudes can be harder than they realize and it's suboptimal. I honor this gift and I honor the spirit this book is written in, which is very honest and heartfelt. I honor that dude, and I hope I see him around.

Anyway, who cares? I get along too well with old dudes, frankly. But I grew up with dudes with severe emotional disturbances and I'm no picnic either. Been itching for chess matches with strangers, though, and there's no chops like old chops. 

Not sure what I'll read next. A few women in a row, I think; that was a three-dude streak. I try and juggle things a bit, keep the mind alive.


--JL