True 40

Finished:

38) McCarthy's The Crossing
39) Zot!
40) n+1, #7

Consumption '08

As the year comes to a close, let's look back at my personal consumption. This blog has served as an accurate archive of the books I've read (most of which I've purchased...though I've bought others that are still sitting on my shelf) but what about other "culture" and "experience"? I'll do my best to recount the movies, music (live and recorded), plays that have entertained and taught me, as well as the trips I've taken for both work and pleasure.

Let's start with air travel since it is one of the popular luxuries to which we've grown accustomed.

1 trip to Honolulu (work), 5400 miles
2 trips to Berkeley (work), 2800 miles
3 trips to Tucson (work), 5000 miles
1 trip to Denver (personal), 2000 miles
1 trip to Albuquerque (personal), 2600 miles
2 trips to Texas (personal), 3500 miles

For a grand total of about 21,500 miles, just a few thousand miles short of the circumference of the Earth (24,900 miles at the Equator). At an average of about 0.21 kg of carbon dioxide per mile that makes my output 4515 kgs (9933 pounds). Through the Bonneville Environmental Foundation, I could offset this using seven wind and solar green tags, which would cost me $189.

Though I hardly ever drive, we did take two trips by car this summer. One from Seattle to Denver and the other down to the Oregon Coast. Call the first round trip about 3000 miles and the second 400 miles for a total of 3400 miles, half of which were moving me, so 1700 miles. To get to an even number, let's say I drove another 300 miles throughout the year (around Seattle, Denver, and on work-related trips) for a total of 2000 miles. According the BEF calculator, this is only about 800 lbs of carbon (we have a Prius) so one more green tag would take care of that.

So the grand total to offset my transportation costs is $216. Not too bad. Maybe that will be my birthday gift to myself in a few weeks. And, of course, while the whole idea of offsetting -- one of capitalism's solutions to excessive consumption -- can be seen as a license to galavant around the globe freely, it is at least a step in the right direction. A real step would be if my office would pay to offset my work-related travel miles (which are about 60% of my total) and I would take care of my own personal carbon emissions. It could be a great marketing tool but I don't think that's enough to convince 'em. How about a law?

Socialist!

While this seems like quite a bit of traveling, I can take some solace in the fact that it is less than in the last two years, where I managed to go to Hawaii a few more times, Chicago, Spain, Mexico, Japan, Florida, as well as Texas multiple times. I guess it's no coincidence that we have drastically reduced our credit card debt in '08.

But, I digress. I've been a very good consumer. Up next, culture in general (music, movies, theater).

Gift

Last week I mentioned in passing that I wanted a shirt that said "Grow," like Christopher Lydon. Risa drew this and had it made for me at B-BAM.

39 and 40

Two by Jean Baudrillard:

America
Simulacra and Simulation

But, looking back to a previous post where I counted Pelham and the remainder of McCarthy's Border Trilogy as done, this actually brings me to 37 finished. My strategy for the next ten days is basically a bender:

Real 38 and 39: Finish McCarthy
Real 40: Finish n+1 #7
41: Finish Zot!, a collection comics by Scott McCloud
42: If available from the library, finish Pelham
43: I read about half of Watchmen early this year; I can knock that out for number 43.

So, that leaves me with 7 fewer books than my goal but it cleans up all these loose ends...maybe I'll get snowed in and can devote all my time to finishing these.

Alinsky (Book #38)

In preparation for my research paper on technology as a basis for participatory and "healthy" urban design, I picked up one of the classics on community participation and organizing: Reveille for Radicals, by the late, great Saul Alinsky.

Those of you that first heard the term "community organizer" in reference to President-Elect Obama, as I did, should be happy to know that Alinsky was one of the most successful organizers as well as a model for Mr. Obama. Whether Obama has what it takes to push a real progressive agenda has been questioned but, if this book is any indication, I would say I think it's more likely than I did last week.

Alinsky defines the radical as someone who truly loves and cares for the great masses of people and is so identified with them that he shares their injustices and sufferings (at this point, I was thinking that I'm definitely too judgemental to be a radical). Alinsky continues to say that the radical is "completely concerned with fundamental causes rather than current manifestations" (I believe I fit into this category, so maybe I'm half radical?).

As the book progresses he asserts that the real problem with democracy is the focus on the form and structure rather than the content, i.e. the people. He continues with tactics to organize people, form a social program, involve natural leaders from established groups, and so on. Many case studies are related that show the true details of bottom-up, or grass-roots, social action.

Two of the most poignant points he makes are that true change come from an active and informed base and that all problems are interrelated. The former leads the reader into methods of involving and educating and the public by doing things with them, rather than for them, and encouraging personal "discovery" as education; the latter idea is especially useful when trying to organize groups that were formed to address smaller issues, such as labor, religion, public health, etc.

I've never thought of myself as radical and this volume has not convinced me otherwise. I think I lack the faith in the common man and the patience to ever fit within the parameters Alinsky has set. But, at the same time, I can identify with what he is saying and know that he is describing the apotheosis of a radical, rather than one you might find living on your block. After reading this book I can look back at the excitement surrounding Obama, and the grassroots movements that helped him win the presidency, in a new light. Maybe there really is something special about these community organizers from the windy city...

And in closing, I suspect that Norman Mailer read Alinsky and that's one why he hated to be referred to as a liberal (Alisnky says "Liberals dream dreams; radicals build the world of men's dreams.")

Equal Rights March

A Book, A Real Book!

In the past 48 hours I managed to make my way through a real book, The Image of the City. It is a seminal work in the field of urban planning and was written in 1960 by Kevin Lynch. The whole premise is to understand how people "read" the city, visually. He and his team studied Boston, Jersey City, and Los Angeles with the help of residents who participated in interviews and drew mental maps (a map drawn of your city from memory). From all this information, he breaks cities down into constituent elements that designers can focus on to create more "imageable" (or "visually legible") cities. It's a classic and even though it was written almost 50 years ago, it would serve the design community, especially the developers, well to read it in earnest.

So, since someone at the library has Pelham on hold, I'm going to return it tomorrow, unfinished, and call Lynch's book number 36. Issue 7 of n+1 comes out next week so that will likely be 37. And if I can get to the final book in McCarthy's trilogy, Cities of the Plain, that will be 38. Maybe I'll get to 40 by years end...especially if I can find another copy of Pelham.

I've already committed myself to a fresh start on new years day. On the recommendation of Jabiz, I've decided that I'll start 2009 with a new author: Gore Vidal. His Narrative of Empires is a collection of seven historical novels which span from the dawn of our nation to 1950, and then with a final chapter at the start of the 21st century. Think I can make to fifty books in '09? I doubt it too.

Famous

I made it to the website of Ebony and Jet Magazines. I'm serious.

Scroll down to Seattle to see my youtube video from Tuesday night, after the election.

Or you can watch it below (but I recommend Ebony's version).

McCain "Party"

Did anyone else notice the parade of primped up white frat boys at McCain's concession speech, as opposed to the diverse crowd at Obama's speech in Chicago? I wish I could find some photos online but I don't think anyone really cared what was going on at the Biltmore in Phoenix.

Reading Update

Well, fifty books probably won't happen this year but fear not, I'm still laying pages to waste. Over the past few months I've read the majority of all six issues of n+1, as well as most of three books for my class:

The Green Imperative, Victor Papanek
Green Screen, David Ingram
Ecosystems and Human Well-Being, Millennium Ecosystem Assessment.

Plus I'm almost through with Cormac McCarthy's The Crossing and Edward Lytton's Pelham.

So, my own original rules be damned, I'm counting these eleven as done to bring myself to a respectable 36 books at the end of October.

Daily Show Clip

If I knew how to embed videos I would but, since I don't, you're going to have to click here to see one of the funniest things I've seen recently.

Thanks, Jabiz

El Libro Veinte y Seis

Just finished Machiavelli's The Prince and I'm thinking that anyone who considers themselves even the slightest bit tough should probably go ahead and read this. I'm not purporting to be tough but I certainly recognize toughness when I see it or read it. There is lots of talk of crushing the opposition and being cruel when necessary (make it quick, he says). He reminds the reader than fortune is a woman and can only be made submissive if you beat and coerce her. Damn, I can't imagine someone saying that today, except for maybe John McCain.

All toughness aside, this treatise is credited as a predecessor of the realist political theory. I know that I tend to lean more to the idealist side of this theoretical coin, but I think it's valuable to be reminded that it's important to remember how things are when forming ideas about how they should be. Reading this I'm also reminded how uncivilized we really are, despite what I'd like to believe.

Palin

John McCain's pick for his VP makes me think two things:

1) He's (rightfully) scared of Obama/Biden.
2) I wish Tina Fey were still on Saturday Night Live because she'd probably do a great impression.

Halfway there

Today at lunch I finally finished the elusive book number twenty-five, which I should have finished at the end of June to be on pace for fifty this year. Alas, my chances of success are slim but we'll see how close I get.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau's The Social Contract has the honor of being my halfway point or, rather, I have the honor of having read it. I believe it was Abe Ravelstein that was always referencing the philosopher and inspired me to look him up. As soon as I read the famous first lines of this treatise -- "Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains" -- I was certain that this endeavor would be worthwhile.

Rousseau tackles natural rights vs. civil rights, freedom and slavery, religion and how it fits into the social order, political systems from monarchy to democracy, quite a bit of Roman history, etc; basically a bunch of subjects alien to my middle-class Texas upbringing and technical education. The focus on politics was a little more than I expected but was enlightening; it also inspired me to move on to Machiavelli's The Prince (another in the Penguin Great Ideas series), which is, evidently, a cornerstone of the political philosphy realpolitik (a philosophy to which "Obama the Christ," as my boy Wayne calls him, supposedly subscribes). I'm waging my war on ignorance at full tilt; the effectiveness of my efforts may vary.

Better Top Books

Jabiz sent me this link to a list of Random Houses's top books, which seems to be better than the Great Reads list.

Same "codes" as below.

1. ULYSSES by James Joyce
2. THE GREAT GATSBY by F. Scott Fitzgerald
3. A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN by James Joyce
4. LOLITA by Vladimir Nabokov
5. BRAVE NEW WORLD by Aldous Huxley
6. THE SOUND AND THE FURY by William Faulkner
7. CATCH-22
8. DARKNESS AT NOON by Arthur Koestler
9. SONS AND LOVERS by D.H. Lawrence
10. THE GRAPES OF WRATH by John Steinbeck
11. UNDER THE VOLCANO by Malcolm Lowry
12. THE WAY OF ALL FLESH by Samuel Butler
13. 1984 by George Orwell
14. I, CLAUDIUS by Robert Graves
15. TO THE LIGHTHOUSE by Virginia Woolf
16. AN AMERICAN TRAGEDY by Theodore Dreiser
17. THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER by Carson McCullers
18. SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE by Kurt Vonnegut
19. INVISIBLE MAN by Ralph Ellison
20. NATIVE SON by Richard Wright
21. HENDERSON THE RAIN KING by Saul Bellow
22. APPOINTMENT IN SAMARRA by John O'Hara
23. U.S.A. (trilogy) by John Dos Passos
24. WINESBURG, OHIO by Sherwood Anderson
25. A PASSAGE TO INDIA by E.M. Forster
26. THE WINGS OF THE DOVE by Henry James
27. THE AMBASSADORS by Henry James
28. TENDER IS THE NIGHT by F. Scott Fitzgerald
29. THE STUDS LONIGAN TRILOGY by James T. Farrell
30. THE GOOD SOLDIER by Ford Madox Ford
31. ANIMAL FARM by George Orwell
32. THE GOLDEN BOWL by Henry James
33. SISTER CARRIE by Theodore Dreiser
34. A HANDFUL OF DUST by Evelyn Waugh
35. AS I LAY DYING by William Faulkner
36. ALL THE KING'S MEN by Robert Penn Warren
37. THE BRIDGE OF SAN LUIS REY by Thornton Wilder
38. HOWARDS END by E.M. Forster
39. GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAIN by James Baldwin
40. THE HEART OF THE MATTER by Graham Greene
41. LORD OF THE FLIES by William Golding
42. DELIVERANCE by James Dickey
43. A DANCE TO THE MUSIC OF TIME (series) by Anthony Powell
44. POINT COUNTER POINT by Aldous Huxley
45. THE SUN ALSO RISES by Ernest Hemingway
46. THE SECRET AGENT by Joseph Conrad
47. NOSTROMO by Joseph Conrad
48. THE RAINBOW by D.H. Lawrence
49. WOMEN IN LOVE by D.H. Lawrence
50. TROPIC OF CANCER by Henry Miller
51. THE NAKED AND THE DEAD by Norman Mailer
52. PORTNOY'S COMPLAINT by Philip Roth
53. PALE FIRE by Vladimir Nabokov
54. LIGHT IN AUGUST by William Faulkner
55. ON THE ROAD by Jack Kerouac
56. THE MALTESE FALCON by Dashiell Hammett
57. PARADE'S END by Ford Madox Ford
58. THE AGE OF INNOCENCE by Edith Wharton
59. ZULEIKA DOBSON by Max Beerbohm
60. THE MOVIEGOER by Walker Percy
61. DEATH COMES FOR THE ARCHBISHOP by Willa Cather
62. FROM HERE TO ETERNITY by James Jones
63. THE WAPSHOT CHRONICLES by John Cheever
64. THE CATCHER IN THE RYE by J.D. Salinger
65. A CLOCKWORK ORANGE by Anthony Burgess
66. OF HUMAN BONDAGE by W. Somerset Maugham
67. HEART OF DARKNESS by Joseph Conrad
68. MAIN STREET by Sinclair Lewis
69. THE HOUSE OF MIRTH by Edith Wharton
70. THE ALEXANDRIA QUARTET by Lawrence Durell
71. A HIGH WIND IN JAMAICA by Richard Hughes
72. A HOUSE FOR MR BISWAS by V.S. Naipaul
73. THE DAY OF THE LOCUST by Nathanael West
74. A FAREWELL TO ARMS by Ernest Hemingway
75. SCOOP by Evelyn Waugh
76. THE PRIME OF MISS JEAN BRODIE by Muriel Spark
77. FINNEGANS WAKE by James Joyce
78. KIM by Rudyard Kipling
79. A ROOM WITH A VIEW by E.M. Forster
80. BRIDESHEAD REVISITED by Evelyn Waugh
81. THE ADVENTURES OF AUGIE MARCH by Saul Bellow
82. ANGLE OF REPOSE by Wallace Stegner
83. A BEND IN THE RIVER by V.S. Naipaul
84. THE DEATH OF THE HEART by Elizabeth Bowen
85. LORD JIM by Joseph Conrad
86. RAGTIME by E.L. Doctorow
87. THE OLD WIVES' TALE by Arnold Bennett
88. THE CALL OF THE WILD by Jack London
89. LOVING by Henry Green
90. MIDNIGHT'S CHILDREN by Salman Rushdie
91. TOBACCO ROAD by Erskine Caldwell
92. IRONWEED by William Kennedy
93. THE MAGUS by John Fowles
94. WIDE SARGASSO SEA by Jean Rhys
95. UNDER THE NET by Iris Murdoch
96. SOPHIE'S CHOICE by William Styron
97. THE SHELTERING SKY by Paul Bowles
98. THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE by James M. Cain
99. THE GINGER MAN by J.P. Donleavy
100. THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS by Booth Tarkington

I've read nineteen of these which is still a poor showing, but I can respect the list much more. So yeah, look at me: I talk about reading a lot but haven't read that much at all. Blah.

Top books

I ran into this exercise on a friend of a friend's blog and thought I'd see how I stack up.

The Big Read reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they’ve printed.

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you love.
4) Strike out the books you have no intention of ever reading, or were forced to read and hated.
5) Reprint this list in your own blog so we can try and track down these people who’ve only read 6 and force books upon them.

1. The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman
4. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The D'Urbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel García Márquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas (on my shelf; will hopefully start soon!!)
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Süskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones's Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnight's Children, Salman Rushdie

I may have read Tess Of The D'Urbervilles in high school and possibly Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre but I'm not sure. Anyway, I'm not very impressed with this list -- where is Saul Bellow?? or Richard Wright? Camus? -- but I managed to have read fourteen of these.

Stream

There were many disturbing aspects of the dream that woke me: one was the lack of food and seeing all my neighbors together trying to grow lettuce and vegetables in the park; watching a friend sitting at a bar after a soccer game saying, "we played on the field where that girl was killed and I got a little blood on my hand" was frightening, but what startled me the most was when the man sitting next to her sniffed at her hand. And finally, there was a spy who had been dismembered by another spy; the television reenactment was a homo-erotic affair with two muscular handsome men playing the parts of the spies. After the last limb was cut the television station flashed to a still photo of the real aftermath for a few seconds before flashing the sponsor's avatar and name on the screen, "This program has been brought to you by Hasty kitchen cabinets." I don't know if that is a real brand but the insignia was a light blue cabinet on a white background, with HASTY written below. I woke up, disgusted, and think that subconsciously I don't feel very good about the world.

Stream

Okay, so Flaubert was an aesthete and I can relate, but only at certain times: Like in '04 when I was drunk and saw Wilco and everything was beautiful, or this weekend when I walked over a dune and through the fog on the Oregon beach, and saw the glow of a bonfire reflecting off the sky and it looked like Kuwait burning in the first gulf war: violent and beautiful. I need to read Walter Benjamin's 'On Hashish' and finish that Biography of William James because they are both interested in "experience." And then there is Thoreau, who was evidently a Perfectionist (in the philospohical sense, not the silly everyday sense); he tried to extract an example of how to be (ever-changing but moving toward the real self) from everything around him in nature...Damn, I've only read part of 'Walden' but this is all tied together and Emerson used to hang out with William James' father and I think Walt Whitman lived in Brooklyn and could look out over what is now the Brooklyn Bridge, just like one of the Roeblings (probably the younger) did after having his foot crushed by a boat coming in to dock

"Now, I'm going to perform"

I took a walk down to the Egyptian Theater today to see Man on Wire, and I suggest you do the same. That is, if you are at all interested in tightrope walking between the World Trade Center towers.

Border Bildungsroman

I purchased All The Pretty Horses and The Worst Hard Time for my dad as Christmas presents this year. He's an on and off reader but I thought these two stories might appeal to him. He plowed through each of them and sent Horses to me. My only previous exposure to Cormac McCarthy was my reading of No Country For Old Men right before I saw the movie. I thought the story was interesting but not captivating; it seemed to me like nothing much more than a dialogue. A reviewer at Salon summed it best when he said that if someone decided to write a screenplay of the novel, they would have a fairly straightforward task ahead of them.

Anyway, I had heard good things about the Border Trilogy from Wayne so I started Horses with high expectations (I also had a hankering for fiction since I'd been spending much of my time with Rousseau and William Whyte, both of whom are extremely interesting but a little dry). It started out a little slow and the accents irritated me somewhat, as did the terse broken, but grammatically correct, Spanish. But soon after the boys crossed the Rio Grande into Mexico, I was embroiled. I think it was during Blevins' account of his family history of being struck by lightning that I really started paying attention. All of a sudden the book was elevated to mythological proportions. Themes of life and love and morality continued throughout the remainder of the novel. If I were writing bylines, I'd say something like "they crossed the river as boys; they returned as men."

I'm going to Elliott Bay tomorrow to sell back this copy and use the credit to by the Trilogy in one volume. When I finish it, my count for the year will be to 26 books.

A Smile and a Shoeshine

Not me; I don't smile nor do I wear shoes that require shining...I do read though and Death of a Salesman brings me one book closer to my goal. This is the first play I've read this year and probably the first since I was in high school. I actually think I read this one in high school but am wondering why; how could a teenager possibly understand this story?

I found myself generally loathing Willy Loman but at the same time pitying him, even though he is a pathetic simpleton. Maybe this characteristic warrants some sympathy but, more than that, it awakens the Texan in me that just wants to shake him until he wakes up. His confidence, stubbornness, and tendency to exaggerate are completely off-putting but I have to admit that his innocence and naivete stir up a hint of emotion, though I can't say if it is jealousy, romanticism, or rage -- I'm sure I felt each of these at some point while reading the play. Anyhow, I guess that's part of what makes Arthur Miller great.

Book 22

Just finished Jane Jacobs' The Death and Life of Great American Cities after quite a while. It's very interesting though pretty dry and academic at times, but her insight and honesty shines bright throughout. I plan on trying to integrate some of what I read into my posts at the Green Housing Collaborative so, if you're interested, take a peek over there from time to time.

That brings me to a paltry 22 books at the beginning of the last week of July. It's doubtful that I can get back on pace this week but maybe if I concentrate on getting caught up by the end of August, and before my next class starts, I can make it.

Not that it counts...

...toward my fifty books, but I've been spending an awful lot of reading time with the Spring 2008 issue of Dissent.

No new completed books to report but the next one down will be Jane Jacobs, finally.

Book 21

I just finished Motherless Brooklyn, by Jonathan Lethem, on the way to work this morning. I've wanted read Fortress of Solitude for quite some time but stumbled across this volume in the used section of Elliott Bay a few weeks ago. If I were ranking books instead of giving them faux-reviews, I'd probably give it a five out of ten. I was not captivated like I was by my previous New York books, which were written by Paul Auster. I could identify with pop culture references but they turned me off, possibly because I read this article, which attacks the "Brooklyn Books of Wonder," last year, even though Bukiet says the Lethem is one of the better authors in the borough.

I failed to get to my 25 book goal by the end of June but I'm blaming the two weddings I attended and the week long vacation in Denver, where we were booked solid. I'm working my way through Jane Jacobs and will hopefully make progress toward my goal this month.

A Book and a Restaurant

We'll go with the good before the poor...



This was a book of which I read the majority for my class. As you can tell by the title, it's about the everyday life: the cooking, cleaning, and leisure time that takes up much of our time. For example, the section on food examines everything from the way we choose and prepare food, to the sensuality of food, and on to the historical cultural connections that influence what we consider edible.

And speaking of food.

I made the mistake of wandering into Seattle's oldest restaurant, The Merchant's Cafe, for lunch yesterday. The smell of barbecue Lays potato chips that came with my turkey melt has finally dissipated but was the inspiration for this post. I was lured in by the history but should have turned away when I saw only two occupied tables. I brushed off the lack of diners and remembered an interview with August Wilson that I read which supposedly took place over coffee here and thought, "if it's good enough for him, it should be good enough for me." Well, that wasn't the case on Tuesday: in addition to the chips and the strange-tasting sandwich, the diet coke was flat and even the pickle was bad.

Two-week Plan

The small plan that follows will bring me to my reading goal by the end of the month:

1) Finish The Practice of Everyday Life (20)

Then, in staying with the Death/New York theme that has randomly appeared (although the aforementioned book would be better classified as Life/Paris -- good enough though, as some sort of opposite) I'm planning on reading:

2) The Death of Ivan Ilyich (21)
3) Death of a Salesman (22)
4) Motherless Brooklyn (23)
5) Finish Plato's Five Dialogues (24) (account of Socrates' trial and execution)
6) My finale will be either to finish Jane Jacobs' The Death and Life of Great American Cities (NYC specifically) or Haruki Murakami's Underground (account of Tokyo subway gas attacks). (25)

Don't run and call the psychiatrists, I'm feeling just fine. This theme emerged as I was reading the past few books that were chosen, I think, at random: Ravelstein, New York Trilogy, Brooklyn Follies, and The Intuitionist.

Brooklyn Zoo

Actually it was Paul Auster's Brooklyn Follies rather than ODB's Brooklyn Zoo that occupied most of my day (other than the eleven mile bike ride I took). That brings my total to nineteen. If I can keep up this pace for the next two weeks, I should get to twenty five by the end of the month, and thus be on track for fifty this year.

SIFF

Well I've been so wrapped up in other activities that SIFF has kind of fallen by the wayside this year. I've managed to see three movies so far:

1) Milky Way
2) American Teen
3) Mysteries of Pittsburgh

I had a ticket to see Choke but I missed it.

Milky Way was an experimental film from Hungary that played at the Northwest Film Forum. Many people were falling asleep and, at times, I was on the verge. However, as I understand it, this is part of the experience of some art forms like Opera and certain south pacific island folk performances -- I'm not joking. Whether or not Milky Way was meant to be enjoyed in a dreamy haze isn't for me to say. Did I enjoy it? Sort of.

American Teen was great. High school senior year documentary with the typical cast: jock, go-getter, nerd, artsy girl, etc. It sounds trite but was really well done, I thought.

Mysteries of Pittsburgh -- I just saw this about an hour ago. I had high hopes: I like what I've read by Michael Chabon and I liked Wonder Boys on screen. Unfortunately, this didn't really captivate me. I felt like it was trying to mimick True Romance and Fight Club, with the southern belle eating pie in the diner and Cleveland, the Tyler Durden-esque wildman. Oh and Goodfellas too: at one point Nick Nolte, playing the father of the main character said something like, "are you trying to embarass me?" and I immediately thought of Joe Pesci and his, "I'm funny, how am I funny?" spiel. It just plodded along and didn't really take me, or the people sitting near me, with it. Failure to launch would appropiately describe this movie.

There was a JFK documentary that I wanted to see but will have to wait. We're going to see Jolene tomorrow and I have one ticket left in my sixer; hopefully I can find something for Sunday, which is the last day of the festival.

On the reading scene, I started Plato's Five Dialogues last night and Paul Auster's Brooklyn Follies today (I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on Plato while waiting in line for a movie...).

Development Updates

Saul Bellow's Ravelstein makes eighteen. I got my paper back with a bunch of positive feedback and nice "A". Awww yeah.

Tonight I'm either going to start on something new, maybe Cormac McCarthy's border trilogy or the last hundred pages of de Certeau, which Ravelstein would have hated; he had no interest in the study of society or the everyday. He was more into thought (Plato, Rousseau, and Celine, none of which have ever fallen into my gaze, but should, I suppose) and people's personalities and habits. He liked the wild ones, the gamblers, the addicts.

But first, dinner is in order. Chicken salad pitas will be served.

Interesting Developments

1) I just finished my research paper for my class. It's the longest paper I've ever written, weighing in at 21 pages (I'm an engineer remember, I never took those classes where long papers were required). Needless to say, I'm pretty excited about it. It's called "Webs of Consumption" and traces connections between various phenomena like religion, art, family, environment, architecture, etc. using consumerism as the common thread. Look for it in a fothcoming issue of Dissent...yeah, right. Anyway, it's an important accomplishment because it will determine my grade for my first course as a nonmatriculated student in the PhD in the Built Environment program at UW. Assuming I do well on this paper, and in the class I'm taking in the fall, I may have a chance to be admitted as a "real" student. We'll see about that. Meanwhile...

2) I managed to finish the third of Auster's New York Trilogy; that brings me to seventeen for the year (I need to be at twenty five by the end of this month to be on track). I'm planning on finishing two other books from my class of which we only read portions (The Production of Space by Lefebvre and The Practice of Everyday Life by Michel de Certau and friends). I've also started Saul Bellow's Ravelstein in order to get myself pumped up for my summer project: setting up an outline and reading list for the book I want to write about all the historical references in The Adventures of Augie March. I finished that book last summer on a train between Madrid and Granada and decided that not knowing what the hell Saul Bellow was referencing most of the time was annoying and made me feel like a yokel.

3) While this blog remains somewhat scattered, the real focused action is over at the Green Housing Collaborative. I actually don't post over there as much as I should but I'm still getting lots of hits. I just passed a thousand page views yesterday!

Quickie

Finished Auster's Ghosts and am about halfway through The Locked Room. I'm doing what I can to keep up but my class paper and my other site are usurping all my time. I met Charles Mudede the same day that I wrote an email to him about his assessment of the new Four Seasons building (follow think to other site to see it). Plus, I just had to put my condo in Denver up for rent again because my tenant broke the lease and moved out. Oh, and my mom was in town this weekend. Ah, and her aunt has an orchard down in Oregon; want to go down there and pick some fruit? I was thinking that would be a good way to 'get back in touch with nature.' I'm trying to talk my brother into learning how to farm so we can provide the Portland farmer's markets with organic peaches, pears, cherries, and apples. A man can dream, can't he?

First of Three by Paul Auster

I've been threatening to read this trilogy to pad my numbers and I've finally made good with the completion of City of Glass, which brings me to fifteen books (one short of where I should have been last month at this time). Daniel Quinn is the main character: his initials are the same as Don Quixote, he goes on an adventure, like Don Quixote, and me might be a little off his rocker, like Don Quixote. Did he write the story? Did the Paul Auster that is in the story write it or is he like Cervantes' Cid Hamete Benengeli? There is a conversation between Quinn and Auster in the book that steers the reader into this train of thought, as does the closing, but it isn't resolved, thankfully.

I needed something that was short and fun for Memorial Day and this story did the trick. I'm hoping to get through the next two soon but I'm not sure I have the time. Rather than start Ghosts last night, I read Norman Mailer's 1957 essay, The White Negro, for my research paper.

The Intuitionist

Just finished The Intuitionist and I suggest you add it to your list of to-reads. I pulled it off the shelf because I was in need of some lighter reading than the Lefebvre and Baudrillard I'm reading for class; it was lighter, in a way -- it was funny at times -- but it was still pretty serious. Though the setting is obviously New York in what seems to be the mid-twentieth century, neither is stated explicitly (pay phone calls cost a dime and there are racist minstrel shows). I read this as an assertion that the existence of racism transcends time. This marks the second book by Colson Whitehead that I've read this year; I also listen to his Colossus of New York recording often.

Late night sore throat

I fell asleep about three hours ago, after starting Colson Whitehead's The Intuitionist; I was dreaming about having a gardening conversation with an architect I work with down in Berkeley when was slumber was interrupted. I swallowed and felt those pins in the back of my throat that pop up every once in a while, usually after a long stretch of hard work or a seasonal change. The timing is odd though: I'm right in the middle of a few projects at work, not to mention my research paper for my class and especially my self-imposed reading list, and the weather isn't even changing. I took a handful of advil with a large glass of orange juice and sat down at the computer to find that my formerly incredibly literary and verbose blog had degenerated into a gallery of pirated pictures and not-even-book-reviews. The question is, do I attempt to remedy the situation of this site at 2 am (with maybe a short review on the newly re-opened Virginia Inn) or do I return to my bed and pick up with the tale of opposing factions of elevator repair people (The Empiricists and the Intuitionists)? If it were any other book, I may have expounded on the virtues and disappointments of the "new" Virginia Inn (the soup and the 'kinda going upscale - well, not really upscale but just not as dingy as what I fell in love with' atmosphere, respectively) but that book is calling me from the other room.

Lucky 13

Gary Cross's An All-Consuming Century brings my 2008 count up to thirteen. This book reflected a more critical point of view on American Consumerism than Twitchell (whom was referred to as a celebrant of consumer culture by Cross) but remained fair and objective. I admire that he can critique popular culture without coming across as a crazed molotov cocktail-tossing rebel.

Freire calls those that let emotion overcome rational thought and criticism "sectarians." According to him, sectarianism is "predominantly emotional and uncritical" and "a reactionary stance" that often leads to "activism" which he defines as "action without vigilance or reflection." I'm personally working on not judging others' actions and beliefs from a purely emotional level so this is all very important to me.

Twitchell is Twelve

Picked up this book via the UW library system to get me started on my research project. The scope of the project is still unfolding (and I have five weeks from Tuesday to complete it) but the gist is trying to follow the influence of western consumption through the other fields it has influenced or by which it has been influenced: religion, art, architecture, economics, community, etc. It was an interesting read that I'd recommend to anyone that is critical of "mass consumption."

Speaking of consumption (of "high-culture"), we made it over to the Seattle Rep last night to see the final production of Seamus Heaney's The Cure at Troy. It was outstanding; I'd never the production of a "classic" on stage (it even had a chrous). Next up on the theater scene is hopefully Autobahn.

Now, for your listening pleasure, I give you Dark Meat. They are playing down the street so I'm going to see what the fuss is all about (supposedly they have 13 to 23 people on stage).

Christo

Enough said.

Make it 11

Just finished the aforementioned All The Sad Young Literary Men by Keith Gessen. Need to commiserate with other overeducated lost young souls? Need to feel better (or at least not alone) about all that overpriced beer you used to enjoy, all too often? Girls? These guys can't do that right either. There's something real and familiar here, even if you didn't go to Harvard, and especially if you feel like you're around 30 and just starting to figure things out (also known as wishing you knew what you know now back then).

An evening with (another) Keith

It seems I'm drawn to writers with whom I share a name. A couple of years ago, I found myself in the Hugo House, listening to Keith Knight. This evening, I was in the stuffy basement of Elliott Bay listening to Keith Gessen -- a founding editor of the journal n+1, to which I refer at times -- read from his debut novel All the Sad Young Literary Men. I agree, that is a great title.

The portions he read centered around a sad young literary man finding his way in New York. It was funny but at the same time remained serious, similar to his journal. A woman in the crowd referred to an article that mentioned his "seriousness that could misconstrued as irony" style; he replied that, the small jokes aside, it was meant to be taken earnestly, that many people unfortunately resort to irony when our current situation is serious. And speaking of serious: during the Q&A session he mentioned Theodor Adorno, a sociologist and cultural critic, of whom I have read a little for a history of consumer course. Gessen came across as bunny rabbit in comparison but I can see why he holds Adorno in high esteem.

Needless to say I bought his book and am falling behind on my reading goals...

Nonlinear History, what?

I'm breaking a rule here and calling this book read when I still have thirty pages to go; I'm going to finish it before I go to bed though. And, really, I'm going above and beyond what was assigned as reading for my class since only portions of the book were assigned. Anyway, it's one of the most fascinating works I've ever read and you eggheads out there would dig it. The text is small and the author is a genius so be aware. My professor has refrained from giving us a long lecture on "complexity theory," which is, as I understand it, De Landa's field, but I think it can perhaps be summed up as "a unified theory of everything" (are those song lyrics?).

Another reason I'm making this post pre-completion is that I need to detach myself from the computer but have the urge to stay in front it. Why? Because I've been working pretty hard on my other site and am becoming obsessed with the number of hits I get (330 as of this writing). A lot of the "work" that goes into it involves finding other blogs/sites that have common interests and trying to network with them. It has worked though; I've had about 130 unique visitors this week!

So De Landa is book 10. I need to be at 16 by the end of April to be on pace. I'll hopefully finish The Watchmen this week and maybe some other reading for class. Read. Eat. Sleep. And blog, I guess.

Daydream

Right now I’m sitting in a small cottage in Austin, with the windows open and the warm breeze rustling the leaves of the surrounding trees. Birds are chirping intermittently and the whir of a far-off lawn mower ebbs and flows as it carves lanes in someone’s American dream. The room is dark and the fan is buzzing; the glass next to my foot sweats as does my brow. My books are piled high but I’m in no rush to finish them. It’s a weekday, maybe a Wednesday, maybe a Thursday, but that hardly matters. The dog, lying on his back, exhales the heavy air and the next door neighbor is learning to play the harmonica. A phone rings, a real phone that is mounted on the kitchen wall, but it’s too hot outside to talk so the ring persists unrelentingly. Einstein said that time slows down as velocity increases but I’m of the opinion that temperature is an important variable that he must have neglected. Night will fall, eventually, and everyone will slowly emerge from their caves. Bicycles will rattle down to the corner store and barbecues will begin.

Nice binding, nice book

Just finished Yannick Murphy's Here They Come. I bought it during McSweeney's big sale last summer even though I'd never heard of he author. In fact, I just realized about two minutes ago that it was written by a woman, not a man. True, the protagonist was a thirteen year-old girl but I just thought he was a good writer.

The narrative unfolds in a sort of unorthodox methods, like a series of vignettes. It drew me in quickly and I couldn't put it down (reading this review it seems that the author wrote it fast as well). And, to top it off, the binding is spectacular and I felt distinguished carrying it.

Up next:

The Watchmen (on loan from Phil)

Science

Weighing in at a mere 257 pages, you'd think Joseph Conrad's The Secret Agent would be a quick read. Well, it wasn't quick but it was good. I'm sure the English majors out there can expound on many themes but the one that caught my attention was the focus on science.

Bear with me for a quick philosophical diversion.

The qualitative research methods class I'm taking now is taught by a philosopher. On the first day he threw out Aristotle's five modes of knowledge:

1. techne - artistic/technical knowledge
2. episteme - scientific knowledge
3. phronesis - practical wisdom
4. sophia - philosophic wisdom
5. nous - intuitive reason

He went on to explain that episteme has come to be the only truly accepted mode of knowledge; quantitative data, statistics, and measurement have come to dominate research and business. As an engineer I can say confidently that the "art" of "old-time" construction has been replaced by a rigorous understanding of the behavior of materials and statisical models give us expeced loads on structures. My professor's argument was that people are sensitive; we exist in a qualitative world full of experiences better described with words than numbers. Thus, qualitative methods are necessary for understanding the world.

Back to Conrad.

Mr. Vladimir, the official at the embassy, recognizes this dominance of science and recommends that the anarchist agent, Mr. Verloc, direct his hosilities toward science itself. He says that attacking heads of state or churches is expected and that an attack on an observatory at the prime meridian will stir things up. Anyway, reading the book for the first time while hearing this philosophical angle was interesting.

Furthermore, while we're discussing science as god, I had another interesting experience today. As you may know, this weekend is the first ever Green Festival in Seattle. We went to hear Amory Lovins, the founder of the Rocky Mountain Institute speak this afternoon. I'd rank him up there with the smartest people that I've ever encountered but I left his lecture with some questions. He is all about sustainability and sustainable capitalism; as I understand it, he believes that the America's energy/security woes can be solved by the practical application of science and R&D, by the private sector. While he makes an incredibly strong argument for this case, backed up graphs, dollar amounts, and prestige, I was left wondering about everything else. By this I mean that, sure, a safe, lighter car that gets incredible gas mileage is great but that doesn't solve the problems urban sprawl and traffic congestion; the fact that Wal-Mart is pushing the trucking industry to use fuel-efficient trucks is good but it fails to address the fact that unchecked consumption of goods made in sweatshops isn't so good. Maybe I'm overanalyzing it but I saw this faith in science that seemed to be ignoring the qualitative elements like quality of life or social justice.

Anyway, that gets me through book number nine.

FYI

Delta is my new favorite airline. Why? Because they have a free trivia game that everyone on the plane can play via the seatback screen.

Multiple posts, multiple books

After a trip to Elliott Bay that set our household back about $100, I found myself the proud owner of three new books:

1) The Diving Bell and the Butterfly - Jean-Dominique Bauby
2) American Gods - Neil Gaiman
3) The Last Harvest - Witold Rybczynski

Plus the partial owner of fourth, entitled The Dud Avocado by Elaine Dundy. I assume Risajoy will read it first since it's her spring break and she'll blast through the stack she got today in a matter of days. I've never heard of Ms. Dundy but the book is part of the NYRB's collection which I've recently discovered (thanks to the Edmund Wilson book I read a while back and the journal n+1).

Anyhow, I spent some time on the couch, avoiding Joseph Conrad, and padding my statistics with Diving Bell. I loved the movie and had been wanting to read the book ever since.

Buddy

Just finished Buddy Does Seattle, a collection of comics depicting life in Seattle in the early '90s. I wasn't here; I was in Texas and in middle school but I believe it's probably a good representation of those days.

A little over 300 pages, it fits within the criteria I set for graphic novels to count toward my fifty books. It was also a nice break while finishing Tolstoy and starting Conrad.

Whitey

Stuff White People Like

Aww yeah!

Just finished book number six. I know, I know: I'm really far behind the twelve books that I need to have read to make it to fifty this year. Weighing in at 817 pages, I have every right to count Anna Karenina as maybe three books, but ,for now, I'm just calling it one.

I could offer my insights into this one but I'm sure plenty has already been written about it, by people much more qualified than me. I'll just say that it's not overrated and anyone who has an interest in life, love, death, religion, or horse racing -- especially horse racing -- should give it a go.

Oh, and I took that picture, back in January, during a quick work trip to Hawaii. That's Oahu's Diamond Head in the background.

Next on the to read list: I'm finising up Peter Bagge's collection of Buddy Bradley comics entitled Buddy Does Seattle, as well as Joseph Conrad's The Secret Agent. Peter Bagge was reading at the Frye tonight, along with Ellen Forney and someone else, whose name escapes me, and I was working...I still need to make it to the R. Crumb exhibit over there. Jeremy? Phil? let's go.

check it out

My sister site, for those interested in maybe building some green housing:

Green Housing Collaborative

Three days, one book

I have to thank Jeremy for introducing me to Scott Heim. He has long been a fan of the author and now I can see why.

Midwest mothers, don't read this one (or maybe you should, but brace yourselves).

If you asked me, I'd say this one was about loneliness, alienation, and not fitting in. The subject matter was "dark"; the writing was remarkable. My favorite alliterative phrase was "pastel pterodactyl"; my favorite religous reference the stigmata manifesting itself as nosebleeds, lesions on a gentleman infected with AIDS, and bloodied nether-regions following a violent encounter with a psychotic "john".

This certainly isn't reading for everyone but it's great nonetheless. I plan on accompanying Jeremy to Scott Heim's reading at Elliott Bay on Thursday, 3/20. Y'all should come.

Poetry and More

Just made it through David Berman's poetry collection entitled "Actual Air." I picked this one up last fall at Elliott Bay mainly because the cover was awesome. Far from a scholar of poetry, I have always leaned toward the alternative variety (I went through the Bukowski phase like the majority of young white men). This stuff was cool and certain parts have cemented themselves in my consciousness. I didn't know the author was the lead singer of the Silver Jews -- a band whose name I'd heard but hadn't listened to -- and an old buddy/bandmate of Stephen Malkmus. It all makes sense now...Anyway, that leaves me with 46 to go for the year. I'm pushing through Anna Karenina and hope to finish it by this time next week.

I also purchased two tickets to my inaugural theater event of 2008: The Imaginary Invalid by Moliere at the Seattle Rep. I was recently introduced to the playwright via the movie Moliere, which had me laughing continuously, on a flight from Honolulu to Seattle, and have been waiting to see a production of his work ever since.

Other stage events for 2008 that I plan on attending:

Eurydice
The Drowsy Chaperone
Sunday in the Park with George
The Little Dog Laughed
All the King's Men

Let me know if you want to go to any of these; we can make it a double date.

Another one down

Well, I skipped ahead. Friday night, on my way to Denver, I cracked open Colson Whitehead's "Apex Hides The Hurt"; I finished it this morning on the flight back to Seattle. It's a little gem about a corporate brander dispatched to a small town to help settle a dispute over the town's new name. It's funny and powerful; I dug it. My only other exposure to him was listening to his audiobook "The Colossus of New York City," which I'd recommend to anyone who is moved by their surroundings.

As of this morning I am officially on Librarything's 50 book challenge. Feel free to join me there.

47.25 to go

Everyone out there has probably been wondering how my reading of fifty books this year is going. And they all probably think I've been slacking since I haven't posted any updates. Well, I haven't been slacking.

Tomorrow at lunch I will be finishing Edmund Wilson's magnum opus "To The Finland Station." It's a history book about writing history; it's an account of revolutions in Europe and Russia; it was hard to read because he glossed over events that my ill-educated ass hardly even knows occurred. However, I feel like it was kind of a rite of passage. I can read a little Marx, Engels, Trotsky, Babeuf, Bakunin, or LaSalle and have at least had a little exposure.

I'm stalled at the start of part five of Anna Karenina but will be continuing on tomorrow evening. Up next: Colson Whitehead's "Apex Hides the Hurt" in the fiction department and "An All-Consuming Century" by Gary Cross as nonfiction.

The fifty book challenge has grown to two members strong. Check out Wayne's blog here for his reading list. Also, if you're a member of LibraryThing you may have received their recent email about trying to get through fifty this year as well. I'm on the site but I have yet to officially join their challenge.

Good Morning

Area Eccentric Reads Entire Book

Statement of Purpose

“We are the designers of the quality of life,” they said: A professor here, a high-achieving senior there, a glossy pamphlet slid into my back pocket. As a recent high school graduate and a lifelong fan of the towering overpasses in Fort Worth and the glassy towers of Dallas, I believed the Civil Engineering department at Texas A&M University was where I would learn how to make the world a better place. Fast-forward to the present, where I am employed by an elite structural engineering firm, and I find myself still fascinated by the city but questioning the impacts of development, the lifestyles that fuel it, and, most importantly, whether or not it is proceeding in a manner that can be sustained. I now see that each structure is inextricably linked to the natural environment and society that encircle it, and, rather than designing discrete buildings, I would prefer to focus my energy on understanding the relationships between these elements.

Seeking to expand my understanding has led me to take action both within and outside my career: Within, and sponsored by my employer, I have taken and passed the LEED accreditation exam and attended the U.S. Green Building Council’s Greenbuild Conference; independently, I have completed a History of Consumerism course, taught by an environmental historian, as well as devoted time to reading scholarly articles, books, and other relevant articles in general interest publications. These interests have also spilled over into my enjoyment of art: I relish John Updike’s descriptions of a transforming town over decades and Colson Whitehead’s poetry about life in New York City. The desire to synthesize these interests into a path of study and a career that I can pursue with my heart and mind has led me to the Interdisciplinary Ph.D. programs at the University of Washington. I am applying to both programs because my interests range from the scientific to the abstract and each program seems to accommodate these types of interests differently.

Although I am undecided as to exactly the course of study I want to pursue, there are several viable research paths that interest me: the influence of consumerism on the built and natural environments; the revitalization of urban centers through retail development and the resulting displacement of venues for high and low culture; or, at the abstract end of the spectrum, the representation of the transforming built environment in popular art. Drawing on my study of consumerism last spring, it would be interesting to examine how suburban and urban development is perpetuated by the American propensity toward consumerism and consumption.

The United States has a long history of consumption and, in retrospect, the American penchant to consume is understandable. As the continent was settled, pioneers were confronted with a vast expanse of natural resources, land, and immigrants eager to work toward a better life. Over time, consumption and improving technology proved to be such a successful economic driving force that it is now the backbone of our economy. With economic growth as a continual objective, consumption will likely continue to increase; it is therefore important to examine the ancillary effects of this economic system.

In conducting this research, an important preliminary step would be to define the scale of the subject of the study; it could range anywhere from the household to the neighborhood, up to the national and international levels. Secondly, defining the spatial boundary of the subject’s influence would be critical. It would be then be possible to trace the path of a given quantity of a product, through space and time, and the effects of manufacture and transport, such as carbon emissions and requisite infrastructure, could be extrapolated. A qualitative dimension would be a valuable addition to the quantitative results. By interviewing a relevant sample of consumers about their purchasing habits and performing textual research on their responses, it would be possible to find trends relating their perception of consumptive behavior to the physical effects it causes. Results of this research could then be disseminated in parallel to both professionals involved in the design process and the general public. For the former group, introducing this human behavior could help sustainable development strategies evolve toward considering broader patterns of use rather than just the sustainability of a building, or neighborhood, itself; for the latter, if it is found that citizens are unaware of the collateral effects of their lifestyles, and are interested in alternatives, a public outreach program, through articles in local publications and town hall style meetings, could be proposed. Momentum from these two groups could possibly coalesce into the seeds of social and economic change, or perhaps legislation to help mitigate negative effects of consumption. This pattern of addressing issues through academic, public, professional, and ultimately governmental veins is a strategy I would want to utilize throughout a career as an academic and perhaps a consultant for firms and governmental agencies.

The interdisciplinary nature of each program is appealing because it is paramount to obtaining insight into these relationships that inherently defy traditional classification. After speaking with many faculty members, I believe that my interests and personality especially jibe with Dr. Dan Abramson, Dr. Branden Born, and Dr. Anne Vernez Moudon. The genesis of my proposed path of research came from a conversation with Dr. Abramson, where we discussed sustainable design at scales beyond the individual building; Dr. Born’s interest in food systems could be described as a more specific version of my interest in consumerism; Dr. Moudon’s focus on healthy built environments leads me to thinking about the mental health impact of consumer society on marginalized individuals and groups. However, I believe my analytical talents, which have been refined through engineering, coupled with my wide interests and willingness to learn independently would be beneficial to any research project.

So, it seems that I have not strayed far from my original goal of improving the quality of life through development but have merely shifted my focus from designing to encouraging that informed design decisions be made. With the popularity of the sustainable mentality, especially in the northwest, now would be a very exciting time to pursue studies such as these.

Film Critic

I don't get it. Movie people get so excited about the Coen Bros. and I'm not that impressed. After seeing No Country For Old Men, Jeremy said that it was a movie for moviemakers. He pointed out things I didn't notice and now I can appreciate them after having them identified. But I just watched Barton Fink, which won the Palm d'Or, Best Director, and Best Actor awards at Cannes in '91 (according to wikipedia), and was, quite honestly, a little bored. It was interesting enough at times and I thought John Turturro was good, but I sure didn't find the movie spectacular. I wasn't moved emotionally, I didn't really laugh, it didn't make me think deeply, nor did it even really engage me. And yeah, I've seen Fargo, I've seen Lebowski, and they're fine but I just don't see what the big deal is.

On the other hand, I was deeply moved by The Diving Bell and The Butterfly by the "amateur" filmmaker, Julian Schnabel. It may be that he's not afraid to spend some time turning the camera upside down to watch the trees sway in the wind, that slow-motion ballet dancers glide through the halls of the hospital during a historical reference. Whatever it is, it's gripping and I'd say daring and original. I'd seen Basquiat a few year earlier but don't recall the beauty of it. I've since seen Before Night Falls and was impressed, though not to the same degree as "The Diving Bell..." I've read a few reviews that say things about the former like "it wasn't political enough" or "it was too arty to do his story justice," about the latter, and would respond by saying that the director is a painter. It doesn't seem to me that he's trying to make any statement beyond his impression on the subject and their life; he's sharing his own interpretation in his own way. If you want political, I'm sure there's a documentary out there about Arenas' and others' struggles with homophobia in Cuba; if you want Bauby's story, sans the artsy camerawork or flashbacks, his book is on sale everywhere, even at the Egyptian Theater here in Seattle. I see Schnabel's work as cinematic impressionism, or something to that effect, rather than old-fashioned realism, and I dig it.

One down, forty-nine to go

Can I read fifty books this year? I'm not sure. I was going to shoot for a hundred but I think this should be more than plenty.

Let's set some ground rules:

1) They have to be started this year with the exception of the following three, which I've cracked but haven't made sufficient progress on: William James Biography, The World Without Us, and the collection of Mahfouz short stories. Other than those, I'm starting on chapter one.

2) Graphic novels do count but only as one book per month and they must be at least, say, 300 pages.

Some of my selections will be:
Anna Karenina (Tolstoy -- underway currently, I'm on about pg. 140)
East of Eden, The Grapes of Wrath (Steinbeck)
Ravelstein, Dangling Man, Humboldt's Gift (Bellow)
Underground (Murakami)
Fortress of Solitude (Lethem)
Yiddish Policemen's Union (Chabon)
What is the What? (Eggers)
The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps
The New York Trilogy (Auster - I think this should count as three.)
All The King's Men (Warren)

I'll post pictures of the empties as I go. I'm proud to say the first of the year was the epic (for a comic book, anyhow: 500+ beautiful pages) Apollo's Song by Osamu Tezuka.

Au revoir, 2007

Taking a cue from Jeremy, who wrapped up '07 with a reflection on his favorite books, movies, and shows of the year (and who also called me a whiny baby for hating everyone), I offer you my wrap-up of the past 365 days of culture and consumption.

My favorite text-only book of the year is a tie between The Adventures of Augie March and Don Quixote. Sure, one could say that I'm just name dropping these because each is dense and I'm frontin', but that wouldn't be quite right. Each succeeded in transporting me to another place in another time. The imagery of depression-era Chicago and of 17th century Spain are forever imprinted on my brain; I envy the adventurous spirit of each protagonist.

In the graphic novel category, I'm backing Adrian Tomine's Shortcomings, even though I just read it New Year's Eve. I've been a fan of his artwork long before I knew his name, mainly due to a New Yorker cover he drew a few years ago (the one with the two subway riders reading the same book and catching each other's eyes through the windows of two stopped trains). The book was short but it was beautifully rendered and captured the intersection of personal and social problems. Plus, it was funny and endearing, a formula that I'm noticing more and more these days.

I saw a handful of movies and would like to give San Francisco the nod for being the setting for two of my favorites: Zodiac and The Times of Harvey Milk. SIFF also brought two Asian gems to my attention: the light-hearted, comic book inspired Dasepo Naughty Girls and the haunting documentary about the transformation of the landscape due to Chinese industry (i.e. making shit for Wal-Mart), Manufactured Landscapes.

In the recorded music category, Panda Bear's Person Pitch has been strangely delighful for months. Broken Social Scene Presents: Kevin Drew and Beirut's The Flying Club Cup have also been in heavy rotation since being released. All white boys, I know.

My live music attendance was down in '07 but I managed to catch both Explosions in the Sky and The Books at Neumos. Wilco made Redmond seem a little cooler and helped Austin remain hip this past fall. Broken Social Scene and My Morning Jacket were also outstanding. If I had only caught Mono at the Croc, before its demise, I would say that I was fufilled this year.

On stage I was wowed by the Tony-winning, Broadway production of Spring Awakening, on my first trip to NYC. Here at home, Young Frankenstein blew me away with the size and quality of the production (many people disliked this one but I'm new to the musical scene and I've never seen the movie). Gatz kept me in On the Boards for eight hours and was one of the most interesting productions I've ever seen.

In random staged events, Miranda July made my evening during Bumbershoot; the author and professor of environmental history, Matthew Klingle, inspired me in the basement of Elliott Bay. Michael Chabon was there too, earlier in the year, reading from his latest novel which I have yet to read.

I added my share of CO2 to atmosphere this past year with pretty extensive travel. Let's count the cities and countries I visited, in near-chronological order: Anaheim, CA, Spain, NYC, Honolulu, HI (twice), Texas (three times), Canada (by car), Chicago, IL, and Ft. Lauderdale, FL. I'm sorry, earth. Spain as a whole, NYC, and Chicago are at the top of my list while Honolulu and Ft. Lauderdale are at the bottom. I guess I don't like beaches?

A consumptive year indeed but pretty eclectic and mostly devoid of tv watching. Let's get on with 2008 and, mother earth, I'm trying to spend less time on airplanes, I promise. We're driving to Colorado in July instead of flying and the Prius is easier on you than a 737.