#148

Just reread One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, by Ken Kesey. One of my favorite books of all time; used to collect different printings and editions of this book. Stole two copies of the same edition from my high school, had one with a weird movie cover, one with a cover by some French artist that I bequeathed to my younger brother, one or two others. Got rid of them over the years and stuck with my Penguin Classics Deluxe edition containing the introduction by Robert Faggin and the foreword by Chuck Palahniuk with the Joe Sacco cover, full of the author's evocative sketches. I like the cover okay and absolutely love Kesey's artwork right in with the text, but the foreword and intro are unbearable, albeit intelligent and useful. I mean they are fine but a part of me is cringing the entire time I read them.

Still one of the best bangers ever fucking written. I need to not go another year of my life without rereading this book. It has been a mistake to slack off. 

Now I am going to read Witches Abroad, by Terry Pratchett, because my buddy just keeps slinging his books at me, because I told them to throw him at me whenever, because Discworld books are simply incredible every time. Dude is smart as all hopping hades and an unbelievable condenser. An implication of his swings more dick than three whole regular books.

Finished A History of Europe, quite a ride. Really phenomenal work. During the process of absorption I leavened it with Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson, and Small Gods, by that selfsame Terry Pratchett we were discussing. Both of these books thoroughly rocked me. I now understand why people are surprised that I haven't read Snow Crash, and bug me so much about it when they find out I haven't. Well, now I have, and I get it, and am simply living a better life now that it's happened. Everybody wins.

Also read a lot of comics every day, per dietary standards. 

Peace, flickering candles. Stay lit.


--JL