I judge books by their covers.....who doesn't?

My good friend recently bought me a book. Recently meaning about an hour ago. And this book just happens to be "The Thirteen and a Half Lives of Captain Bluebear" by Walter Moers. How awesome can ya get? So anyways, I have not started this book yet, nor should I until I finish this post, but I'm going to take this time to state a few points.

I judge books by their covers. AHHHH! But who doesn't? The way I see it, everyone who has seen a friend say, "That book looks weird.", has said "Don't judge a book by it's cover." in cheery tones. But then those people just turn around and judge books! By their covers! Over and over and over again!

The Thirteen and a Half Lives of Captain Bluebear is a pretty book. It has a yellow and blue cover: color scheme, check. It has a comical, cartoon picture of a unusual mythical animal: a Bluebear. Check. It has flowing script in dark, brooding blue tones. Check. The back cover describes an adventure in which a mythical creature finds love, loses it, finds it again, and slaughters innocent monsters. Check. The reviews plastered on the back cover have slight drug references and little-known connections. Check.

Yay. But really, what's so bad about judging a book by it's art? What's so horrible about stating the horrible? If you go to a museum, most likely you will find a piece or two of art you dislike. But do you speak out against the Mona Lisa? The Starry Night? An Andy Warhol? Okay, maybe and Andy Warhol, but I really don't get why (One) cover art is horrible, or (Two) why it is socially acceptable to praise terrible artwork.

And that is mon avis.

Elated Lawsuit Authoritarians..............(Take.....um.........sixish.)

    I finished Garth Nix's "Shade's Children" the other day, and was struck by how much justice is incorporated into the storyline. The whole book is simply an elaborate case of revenge. The world goes through (cue dramatic music) "The Change", and lives are turned downside-up. Everyone over the age of fourteen disappears, and all the remaining children are herded into vans by creepy people with candy and facemasks. What's the first rule about strangers, kiddos? Anyways, the kids are used as, erm, parts for robots, but the "Shade", a man who exists in a computer, wants to stop that. So, he gathers a small misfit army of small children to fight several-hundred pound armed monsters and exact revenge. Great plan there, buddy.
     So anyways, what can we taake away from this? Not to get into white unmarked vans? Yes. Not to trust multiple-personality electronic men? Definitely. But there's deeper meaning here. I think Nix meant to show us that we can't allow the world to be controlled fully. We need to keep a small bit of control, always, so that control can't be taken away from us. Delve anywhere in history, it's there. We make the same mistakes over and over again, leading up to wars, dictatorships, denial of rights, etc.
   

Elated Lawsuit Authoritarians.........(Take 5? Take 6?) Justice League! Yeah.

     The Hunger Games shows a classic case of revenge and self-preservation. In her futuristic world, The twelve existing Districts in North America once rebelled against their dictatorship, the Capitol, and were put down again to a servile state. Now, to constantly remind them that they shouldn't rebel and that the Capitol is in power, each District must choose one boy and one girl to compete in a gruesome fight with the other children from the other Districts.
     This just shows how horrible revenge can be. For any little transgression or misdemeanor, people always take pleasure in turning it right back to who they recieved it from. For instance - (And I'm not pointing fingers.) The U.S. decided to establish democracy in Iraq, sending in thousands upon thousands of troops to enfoce this new concept. Then revenge comes into play. Iraqi people decide to commit acts of violence against the U.S. and U.S. soldiers, and we find ourselves in a vicious cycle of revenge. If any of these Iraqi people are caught, then they are put to our idea of justice, which would be a loooong visit to a prison cell. But let's say one of our U.S. soldiers was kidnapped. The people in Iraq probably believe that we are who should be locked up, since we're enforcing something they didn't ask for in the first place, and strolling around their houses with loaded weapons. However, this concocts many more problems in the world when everyone is hunting everyone else to enforce justice, or exact revenge, and then violence is running rampant and the world is a terrible place.
    Self-preservation also comes into play with society, as people always like to act in their best interests or do what pleases them. People don't always look out for each other, little children. When I get off the bus each day, I may have a dollar-ish in my pocket left over to buy a cookie/candy bar, etc. I usually see one homeless man in the same place each day. Today, I compromised. I gave the man half of my money, but I also acted in my best interests. I saved the other 50 cents to buy a rainbow cookie down the street. I love those cookies, but felt rather guilty today. This isn't exactly self-preservation, but many people wouldn't hesitate to put someone else down to move higher up in their career, in monetary standings, in their social life, or elsewhere.
    

Elated Lawsuit Authoritarians...........(Take 5)

    In "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime", there are many social issues. First of all, there's the most obvious. in the beginning of the book, Mrs. Shears' dog is murdered with a garden fork. Her neighbor Christopher decides that he'll find out who committed the crime. The second most obvious issue is that Christopher is an autistic child who hates yellow and brown, hates being touched, and can multiply 251 times 864 mentally within seconds. Although he's great at math, Christopher has difficulty in common situations, and cannot tell lies. Christopher's mother is dead, so he is living alone with his father at the time, which is another issue, but they manage to limp along with everyday life.
    Later in the book, Christopher snoops around and discovers that his mother is not dead, and has been sending him letters for years. His father has kept this secret all along. Christopher's father also confesses that he killed Mrs. Shears' dog.
    All of the above social issues fall into the category of "Facing your fears". Christopher's dad strictly forbids him to investigate the murder of Mrs. Shears' dog, yet he does. Christopher, once he finds out his father killed the dog, is so scared for his own safety that he runs away to live with his mother in London. However, Christopher is still very afraid of normal things, and doesn't know much about how to get to London. But he soldiers onward, and asks a stranger for directions, buys a train ticket, takes the subway, is touched, and ventures out alone all by himself, and forces himself to do all of these fears of his.

Halcyonic Days......

     Ah, the school day. The work day as well. Waking up at six 'o' clock, walking sixteen blocks, taking the bus for thirty minutes......bliss. The noise of the man behind me humming loudly and out-of-tune, the women gossiping in another language at the top of their lungs, the small children running everywhere and yelling about everything and annoying everyone.......
    School. Shouting, jostling, running, eating, sneezing, jumping, singing, yelling, screaming, learning, listening, sitting, standing, crouching, answering, praising, dozing. And then lunchtime strolls along, and everything is peaceful once more. Birds twitter as you search for $2 dumplings, but no avail. You trudge meekly back into the building, all your bravado and impudence punctured.
    Then the rest of the day meanders on, and you suddenly discover that it is time to leave. But no, you must stay for "Test Prep". (Think chains and manacles).
    5:30 arrives after hours of meaningless torture, and you are released from servitude. You proceed to the bus, and wait for another half an hour for it to come. You then ride home.
    You step off the bus, only to be greeted by yelling and shouting and waving from the man on the corner, who then proceeds to scrutinize every cigarette butt, shredded leaf, and discarded napkin on ever curb. Then you walk another ten or so blocks, dodging screaming children, runners, and hunched-over old Italian ladies all the while. You are so hungry you are forced to enter supermarkets and devour all of the samples. You exit the supermarket, and start to swing your umbrella. A woman walks briskly up to you and says "You know, you could hit someone doing that.". She was quite grumpy. You trudge the remaining blocks home, fueled by your annoyance, only to be greeted by an hour of the vexatious, bothersome, irritating little thing they call homework.

Elated Lawsuit Authoritarians.........(Take 4)

     "The Giver". Classic book, most people should read it. English class. Re-reading. Annotating. Blogging. Anyways, "The Conveyor" is a classic case of the archetype "The Loss of Innocence". Throughout "The Dispensor," Jonas changes from a small, inexperienced, green little sprout into a real man. He questions society. He feels real pain, not just a finger that's been smooshed in a door frame. He experiences snow, and sledding, and hills and war and guns and elephants and colors and skin tones. He decides to become a lumberjack. (Just making sure you're still reading.) He feels set apart from his peers and his elders. He also sort of falls into the hero-type archetype, as he rides his bicycle to freedom to save the community, breaking several rules in the process.
     And "The Transmitter" strictly falls into "The Mentor" archetype, with his wispy beard and cryptic replies, his creepy bare-tunic-memory-bestowing.......(This book really is quite alarming). He teaches Jonas how the world used to be, or still is outside of their little bubble of self-proclaimed utopia. He also helps Jonas a lot, by lavishing him with profuse amounts of memories of strength and courage and other masculine qualities. "The Supplier" really plays it up, with all sorts of lines along the lines of "You could change the world" and "It's all down to you" and "Her name was Rosemary". This is histrionic stuff, people.
     Anyways, Jonas turns from a callow, inept, naive fledgling into a tested, knowledgeable kid who saves the community and hears music for the first time. Hooray.

(Time for some pierogies. I love pierogies.)

Elated Lawsuit Authoritarians.........(Take 3)

     The journey in "Charlotte's Web" neatly slips into both the "Loss of Innocence" archetype and the "The Task" archetype. Though you readers (If there are any besides my English teacher [Hello there] ) most certainly don't really care, let us elaborate. (Hooray).
      During the course of the book, Wilbur grows from an inexperienced, scared, naive little runt into a pig who knows much more about life and the world outside the pen. Charlotte was constantly teaching him new thinngs, new vocabulary, new ideas. And wilbur also experienced both death and birth, which are both important experiences.
     Also during "Charlotte's Web" is the main plotline: Save Wilbur from becoming breakfast. Everyone pitches into this idea, both voluntarily and grudgingly. The old sheep persuades Templeton to get newspaper clippings and go to the fair, Charlotte writes words in her web, and all the other animals provide general encouragement from the sidelines.

Elated Lawsuit Authoritarians.......(Take 2)

Page 43 - "Don't blink, life might go by."

Page 60 - "People never stop rushing."

Page 80 - "Wilbur did nothing - Charlotte wrote the message."

     When Charlotte writes (Or should I say, weaves) the words "Some pig" into her web, everyone freaks out, gets all excited, and rushes to see Wilbur. They all agree he is a very special, fine specimen of Sus Scrofa Domesticus, but what did Wilbur do? He doesn't weave webs, he doesn't walk around on his hind legs, he isn't an expert truffle hunter. Charlotte weaved the word into her web, shouldn't she be extra-special?
     This is what E.B. White is trying to tell us - In today's world, people rush so much, and get so caught up with major details or what they heard from their friend who heard from her boyfriend's mom who heard from this guy on the street. They then proceed to miss something important, or something crucial. They skip over the small details in their rush to spread this rumor or that story, and they fail to grasp the whole concept. People automatically believe what's written in front of them, and are rushing so much that they don't stop to correct their error.


Time for some pasta. Postscriptum - To all those foodie readers, check out rainbow cookies.

Salisbury T. Whitman (Because I felt like writing)

     Salisbury T. Whitman creaked out of bed on the left side, groped around for his favorite cane, and shuffled over to the bathroom. He got dressed in brown pants and a white shirt with a blue tie, and proceeded to the kitchen by way of the back staircase. Upon reaching the kitchen, he made himself a caramel macchiato and stumbled out into the living room and sank into his overstuffed armchair.
     Mr. Whitman, known to his friends as Whit, never believed in doing anything the same way twice, including having the same name. Salisbury was his original name, but he liked change, almost too much. He was quite sprightly for sixty-four, and liked to go for a walk every day, but of course on different routes. He would often see curtains sweep closed and mothers speed up with their strollers, as he was known as the odd old codger down the road by many. In fact there were only two families that knew him well, Ms. Lawrence across the road (Who he always sent flowers), and Mr. and Mrs. Hansen and their two boys, Elliot and Christopher, who always wanted him to tell them tales of action and adventure and flying carpets.
     This particular morning, there was an unexpected knock on the door. He straggled over to the door and was met with a delightful surprise. Girl Scouts were there, and they had Thin Mints, which he loved. He paid for his cookies and went back to the armchair, but not without snagging a few cookies for the trip there, however short it may be. He sighed contentedly, although there was something troubling on his mind. He was running out of things to do each day. He looked through the living room into the kitchen, where he could spy the cookies coaxing him to eat a few more. He wished he could share them with someone, but he had already gone to both the Hansen's and Ms. Lawrence's house for tea last week. He sighed again.
     Now this doesn't occur normally, and if it does occur it has something to do with saving the worls or losing weight, but Mr. Salisbury T.Whitman had a revelation. He was sick of being alone. He wanted to adopt a child.
  

Elated Lawsuit Authoritarians...........(Take One)

Page 104 - "Charlotte is turning into Wilbur's guardian more and more."

During the course of "Charlotte's Web", Charlotte teaches Wilbur vocabulary and the ways of the world. She also turns into an almost motherly figure as well, as she sings a lullaby to him and teaches him about being a spider. Wilbur looks up to her in turn, asking permission to get up for a snack and asking her for a bedtime story. Wilbur sees Charlotte almost like another Fern, in the way that Fern was always watching over him and protecting him from harm. Charlotte is constantly protecting Wilbur, whether it's from axe-swinging farmers hungry for bacon, overpowering loneliness, or old, grouchy sheep. Charlotte also finds a way to incorporate all the barn animals into her plans to save Wilbur, having Templeton find new words to weave, having the sheep persuade Templeton to find new words to weave, or having the (Goose's? Geeses? Geese? Goose?) rotten egg dissuade Avery from knocking "That ol' spider" out of her web.

(applause)


Whew. I'm gonna go get some mac 'n' cheese.

The Man........the Myth.......the Legend.

So. Here I am. A man with no plan. And, of course, a blog. Technically, I'm supposed to be writing an entry about Charlotte's web today, but that's not gonna happen. More likely I'm going to be writing about food, or music, or how I can't find a good bubble tea anywhere.

Anyways, here's my blog, here's my first entry, here's my cue to exit.