O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum! I talked Lee into helping us put up the tree today. He may have had fun; I’ll ask him after he’s had time to think about it. Of course, after three years, putting the actual tree up is pretty much a science, this snaps together with that, this goes here, the […]

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Review: The Brothers Karamozov, by Fyodor Dostoesvsky As it turns out, this is a fun book. It has many of the features of an epic fantasy, except, of course, for the fantastic and epic elements. There’s the same sense of world-saving importance, the same philosophical digressions on good and evil, the same psychological themes turned

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Quote: “They’re thirteen. The boogeyman is no longer in the closet or under the bed. The boogeyman is inside you.” — Alfonso Cuaron, probably not an exact quote, from the Harry Potter and the Prizoner of Azkaban interviews on the DVD. He said it in such an offhand, matter-of-fact way, too.

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Ideas. I’m writing this down so I’ve written it down. Some people have eidetic memories. I have the kind of memory that remembers what I’ve written, at least the general gist of it. (I don’t have to use bookmarks for most books.) The next time I stare at a blank page and try to talk

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Recommend: “Author of a highly acclaimed series of mystery novels, world traveller, former Zen student, and former police officer Janwillem van de Wetering brings an unusual perspective to the detective genre. His novels and stories feature a diverse and richly drawn cast of characters and settings that range from the streets of Amsterdam to the

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Quote, and Ramble. Coming up with titles for blog entries makes my sympathize with painters who title their stuff, “Woman with Plastic Frog #1, Woman with Squeaky Duck #2,” etc. Jeez, it’s hard enough for me, and I like words better than pictures. Doyce sent me a quote that made me laugh out loud: “Any

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Snow. Ray has pink “fleece” gloves (the kind that’s flat, not the kind that looks like sheep’s wool). They’re warm, they stay pretty dry inside, and they don’t slip off unless they’re meant to. All good. One problem. Yesterday I pelted Ray a good one. She picked up a handful of snow, ran after me,

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Repression. Ray’s in the bathroom, screaming about being naked, and clutching her chest. NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKED! NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKED! I say to Lee, “I can see where repression would be a logical thing.” NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKED! NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKED! “How so?” NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKED! NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKED! “Imagine trying to keep all that bottled up for twenty years.” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! BAM! BAM! BAM! “I guess so.” I go

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Saucers. I’m in a coffee shop, drinking coffee out of an oversized teacup and saucer. Cute teacup; it’s all in Russian and there’s a big star on the saucer. No hammer and sickle, though — it’s a cultural Russian thing, not a political Soviet thing. The saucer has a curved edge and a small circle

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Election. Here’s your rare political post. Bush won. What an idiot. Daschle’s out. I have mixed feelings about that. More GOP seats in Congress. F@#$ me, why don’t we try anarchy for another four years instead? It’ll be survival of the fittest without the smarminess. Why hasn’t Bush been impeached, instead of re-elected? Why, oh,

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