Between the covers.

So about two months ago, Marco had this great idea to do some posts on Counterforce about summer. Summer traveling, summer adventures, flings, weird things to be done to the world and to yourself during the course of summer, and of course, summer reading.

Not a hard subject for us to tackle. Quite the opposite, in fact. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re all voracious readers and also, frankly, scary brilliant. But we got a little wrapped up in the business of having a summer, which we’ll leave undefinable for now, and before you knew it, the grass started getting a little less greener, the wind started getting colder, those chirping annoying kids finally went back to school, and the season of summer flings quietly faded away.

So let’s talk about what’s on our nightstands as we head into the autumn months, okay?

Occam Razor:
Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do (And What that Says About Us) by Tom Vanderbilt.

Because you assholes don’t know how to behave on the road and your idiotic fucking tendencies just lead to me being in traffic. I read most of this on my lunch breaks while eating sushi. Now, I’m not saying you have to read this at lunch while eating sushi, but you probably should to get the same exact experience I did. California Rolls will not be accepted. Unless its the ones with the fried shrimp in the middle, I don’t know why but I can’t get enough of those. Damn, I could go for some right now. If I only had a book about the traffic culture of Mumbai to read.
Lollipop Gomez:

Youth In Revolt is one of my favorite books. I read it 10 years ago and then I re-read it when I was recovering from surgery in 2005. It is a treasure. I’m very worried of what they will do to it.

If there aren’t any donuts in the first 20 minutes of this movie, which is a major detail in that they go get donuts all the time in the book, I will be very upset. I remember sending my ex up the hill to get me Maple bars because they kept mentioning them. So, if there’s no donuts in the movie then I will torch Michael Cera’s house. And I don’t know how I feel about this fake Amanda Seyfried as Sheeni. I don’t know if I imagined her being so faux-sexy. Ugh, Hollywood.

Marco Sparks: Cera’s starring in the upcoming movie version, right? When reading the book originally, can you say that you ever would’ve thought to see Michael Cera playing the lead? I totally want some donuts now, by the way.

LG: No, Michael Cera is not Nick. But he’s the awkward man of the moment and I think he’s producer, so we can thank his dollars.

Marco: Hello, Nick and Norah!

Conrad Noir:
Why this book? Because why the fuck not, motherfucker? This book is like experiencing what it’s like when a mentally ill person has an orgasm during a car wreck. It’s fucking wonderful. Here’s an excerpt:
“Soon after this episode there was a birthday party for me. Prince came, he was sitting at a table with some people not drinking. I walked up to him, grabbed him by the back of the hair and poured cognac down his throat. He spit it out like a little bitch and I laughed and walked away. I loved fucking with him like that.”
Occam Razor:
Lush Life: A Novel by Richard Price.

Because of several reasons. A) Richard Price wrote some of the best episodes of The Wire. 2) For the first 350 pages or so it’s an entertaining read. Nevermind the end, though. and C) For all intents and purposes the subtitle A Novel is actually a part of the title of the book. It’s not Lush Life, a novel by Richard Price, it’s Lush Life: A Novel! Why can’t more titles be that informative like this, imagine Bruno: A Terrible Film Where This Guy Sexually Harasses Rednecks Until They Finally Snap.
Conrad:
This one isn’t as easy to enthusiastically recommend. Honestly, I haven’t read it yet, but I certainly intend to. Especially now that I know they’re making it into a movie.
Marco:
I’m honestly too indecisive to pick just one, or just a few books here. I apologize. So, speaking of the post Lollipop and I did yesterday, I’m going to suggest…
What a fun and fascinating read this book was (for me, anyway). On one hand, you could take it as some very factually based interesting guesses into what tomorrow holds for us, but in a lot of ways, due to it’s style and subject matter, I think you could almost take it in as a very experimental novel. Especially if the futurist angle just isn’t for you. In fact, be warned, because I think I may have more to say about this one in a few days…
Occam Razor:
Why Your World is Going to Get a Whole Lot Smaller: Oil and the End of Globalization by Jeff Rubin

Because I’m too fucking lazy to properly prepare you for Peak Oil.
And you’ll have plenty of time to read after the end of the world

It’s going to be a long December.

Despite my best efforts it’s Monday again, and to make it even worst, it’s the first fucking day of December. Jesus Christ, you know what I mean?

Deepak Chopra suggests that America is to blame for the Mumbai attacks and that the media should look within to try and understand the sick delusions of the terrorists involved. That’s Deepak Chopra, new age healer and philospher, advocate of aromatherapy and regular enemas, and terror expert. (I make fun, but he actually does bring up one or two interesting points.)

There’s also the possibility that the United States warned India that such an attack was very possible and maybe even probable about a month ago.

The 50 best websites of 2008, according to Time. There’s even a tumblr for the list (even though Tumblr isn’t on the list.) I’m sure Counterforce is #51.

Obama unveiled his national security team today, including Hillary Clinton as Secretary Of State. It’s the end of the world as we know it… and I feel fine.

Oh, and apparently we’re officially in a recession now?

Well, since the economy’s bad, and you’re having a hard time finding something fun to do that doesn’t cost a lost of money, right? Have sex! It’s fun! It’s free!

Maureen Dowd on Tina Fey. Tina doesn’t like the bad boys. 

A nine year old Chinese girl, caught up in a U.S. custody battle and raised in America, is now having to forcibly readjust to life in China.

The anti-terror law requires that God be acknowledged.

The 6 most inappropiate porn character professions.

Brains of autistic children slower at processing sound.

A woman disappeared in Goblin Valley. What a cool headline.

Bad Santas!

Two words I’ve always wanted to rhyme together: Wombat combat!

The Merriam-Webster word of 2008 is: Bailout.

Check out these badass pictures of angry looking clouds gathering over Greenland. They’re like beautiful, pissed off oil painting clouds.

The best female bloggers of 2008.

Just interesting: The dancing plague of 1518. Really interesting, fascinating stuff.

Lifehacker’s top 20 Top Ten lists of 2008.

I should point out here that all the rest of the photos in this post are going to come from this article on lions that I just read. Why? Because it’s fucking lions, man!

For some reason this morning, my alarm clock was on this morning and went off at a certain time blaring the radio into my unusually serene slumber. I haven’t actually heard the radio in… well, it’s been a long fucking time. And, I shit you not, the song playing was “A Long December” by the Counting Crows.

 That was a bizarre and slightly horrible jaunt down memory lane but it made me think a little more about how as we near the end of this decade and we have a political change in Washington, we’re going to start ending our collective psuedo-80s flashback and… what, do a little retread of the 90s? I see more and more 90s nostalgia cropping up here and there and to be honest with you, I’m kind of curious to see how that decade would replay itself in our culture now. How does the most post modern and “homage” and referential-heavy decade rebirth itself into this day and age?

Totally unrelated, but speaking of time capsule bands from the 90s, have you ever listened to the lyrics of “December” by Collective Soul? What the fuck are they talking about?

Oh, hey, today is World AIDS day.

Oh, and it was on December 1, 1955 that Rosa Parks refused to give up her bus seat to a white man in Montogomery, Alabama.

The 1824 presidential election was deadlocked between John Quincy Adams, Andrew Jackson, William H. Crawford, and Henry Clay, and on December 1 of that year, it was turned over to the U. S. House Of Representatives. Adams ended up the winner.

And December 1, 1992 is the day that Amy Fisher was sentenced to 5 to 15 years for shooting Joey Buttafuoco’s wife in the head. She ended up serving 7 years.

Woody Allen is 73 today. Sarah Silverman is 38. And Nestor Carbonell (Richard Alpert on Lost!) is 41. Though, really, he’s actually hundreds of years old. You know, cause of the island. And shit.

God, that show can’t come back fast enough.

Anyways, it’s the first day of the week and the first of December. It’s time for Christmas shopping (holiday shopping, sorry), panicking about being able to afford Christmas shopping (again, holiday shopping), deciding who’s not even worth worrying about how you’re going to afford to get them something for the holidays (Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, all that shit). Get excited.

Oh, and Festivus too!