Sometimes I do not read books as much as I should. It happens about as often as in my days before a computer entered my life. Now is one of those times. I need to take a trip to a book store soon.
The only newspaper I read regularly is the Daily Racing Form. Besides all the usual bullshitting the Form's regular writers contribute each issue, there is a little corner reserved for two very short general news stories. This past Sunday's Form included this story headlined Missile Strike kills 10 in Pakistan.
At least 10 people and six others were injured in a suspected U.S. missile strike Thursday in Pakistan's tribal region. The attack apparently targeted a religious school operated by a Taliban commander. It took place in an area known to be a haven for al-Qaida and Taliban insurgents.
Which just goes to prove that if you bomb enough countries, sooner or later you will start bombing the right ones.
I do read a lot of shit on my computer. Some of the shit people publish from their homes is fucking good. Mostly though I like to look at pictures of roller derby girls and think of distant places.
3 comments:
Great comic book jacket; or is it a graphic novel ? I fucking hate that terminology. The idea of dressing something up something already good in a pseudo-literary fashion.
I don't read nearly enough either. The cause of this, I suspect, is I accumulated a nasty fine when I forgot to return one book a good while back. The author and title was not memorable; which was why I failed to return that one with the others I had borrowed.
I didn't even get a reminder.
Now, I will have to swallow my annoyance and be prepared to part with a tidy sum of money before I am able to set foot among those inviting aisles again. I wouldn't mind so much if I'd enjoyed reading the fictional culprit. These days, I seem to find myself drawn more to factual accounts and biographies. I too seem to do most of my reading online, which is fine, excepting those occasions when yo want to read from a horizontal position with a cigarette dangling over the edge of the bed.
I found a 58 year old first printing of George Woodcock's "Anarchist Prince" biography of Peter Kropotkin. That will keep me going for a bit. Cost me $2.
Good find. I love it when something unusually good or rare turns up right under my nose by chance. $2 ? A steal.
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