Infinite Stupidity For Agreeing To Do This

It's a long twisted tale as to how I got here, but I got goaded by my brother into reading Infinite Jest.
  

I had heard of the book. I had heard of the author. I knew the author committed suicide a few years ago.  


That's about it.  


When my brother told me the book had 1,000+ pages, I didn't really think much about it. After all, I've read The Stand. I've read Gone with the Wind countless* times. A thousand pages is merely a few books strewn together, right?   


Right.  


There are books.  


There are epic books. 


And then there are books that come accompanied with essays on how to read it, blogs and wikis. 


Blogs.


Wikis.  


I think it's enough to know that one of the how-to guides suggest you "brush up on your Hamlet" before reading it.


That's right. 


Fucking HAMLET. Only a what? Six-hour play? Yeah, let me go ahead and "brush up" on that.  


I've no doubt liberal arts colleges the country over devote entire semester classes to this one damn brick book, and I have the nerve to pick it for fun.  


Here's a list of words I've had to look up: 

Agnate
Aleatory
Amaneusis
Aphoristic
Fulvous
Leptosomatic
plosivity**
Quincunx
Teratogenic
Uremic
Pedalferrous


And then there are the acronyms: 


ATHSCME
ETA
ECT
ENT
CT
ONANCAA
ONANMA
NAAUP
RICO
TP
PIT
VIP
DSS
RISC
YDAU***


And I'm only on page 95.


Did I mention the footnotes? Footnote #24 is, I'm not kidding here, 8 pages long. I have been reading the footnotes, as advised, because some of them are kinda funny****. But I did not read #24. And I have no guilt about that. 


By the way, I'm convinced the man simply made up words.  


For example, have you ever seen the word "locomotival" used in actual writing? Have you ever HEARD anyone utter that word? 


No.


Know why? 


Because DFW***** simply made it up. Go ahead. Google it. Look it up in the dictionary. It's not there. He just decided willy-nilly to throw a noun together with a suffix and call it an adjective and then use it to describe the noise made by a herd of feral hamsters.  


I think I'm going to do that.  


Not make noises that resemble a herd of feral hamsters, that is, but make up words. 


Kinda like mad libs, only I'm going to use them in a serious context. 


To wit:  


The author was kazoocy when he wrote this novel and I was kamekasiferous for agreeing to read it.


For the record, this is the same brother I spoke of here.  


I'm thinking of disowning him. -> 


*And I do mean "countless." At last check, I own four copies of the book: my original tattered paperbook copy which I wrote and highlighted in for years and is now bound in rubber bands, an anniversary copy The Geek bought for me that is falling apart because The Boy read it and he's awful on books, plus they don't make books like they used to any more, a vintage copy printed in 1937, and a new one I bought this summer. An old boyfriend has the copy that once belonged to my mother and I remain bitter it never got back to me. I also have a notebook devoted to all my favorite quotes and words I had to look up last time I read it. 


**No, that's not a typo. PLosivity. The "L" belongs there. BTW, this one can't be found on Dictionary.com either. More evidence he made up words.


***Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment


****Footnote #2 about Orin, a character in the book: "Orin's never once darkened the door of any sort of therapy-professional, by the way, so his takes on his dreams are always generally pretty surface-level." p.983, 10th anniversary paperback ed.


*****David Foster Wallace, the author. As opposed to Dallas/Ft. Worth, the metropolitan area. Or the airport code for said metropolitan area. 

10%

Well, Borders.  Your going out of business helped me Santa not at all.  As a representative elf, I have this to say to you:  I don't consider 10% off a "sale".  I consider that an insult.  You want to dump your inventory on the public North Pole, you're going to have to do a lot better than that.  -> 

Azkab

Little Missy is working her way through the series again. This is her second go-round. ->


-Posted using (enter requisite phrase which brags about your cool gadgets and applications for said gadget here)

Gadget, Book And Music. Oh My.

 

Spring cleaning lead me to finding my very first iPod lurking in the depths of one of Little Missy's Stuff Containers in her room this past weekend.  

Amazing, isn't it, how quickly Yesterday's Hottest Item becomes today's cast-offs?  

I loved my iPod mini (version 1.4.1, 4 G).  I named him iBob and we went everywhere together.  I even bought (yes, bought, not borrowed) a book about how wonderful said iPod was.  I was devastated when I went out of town once and convinced myself I left it in the hotel.  My husband, dear that he is, replaced it with a nano, but I found iBob the next day (it was in the suitcase.  Yes, I checked it.  Like, a dozen times) and returned the newer! flashier! model, which astounded the sales clerk.  

And then came iPhone.  

Just like that, my beloved mini was rendered obsolete and unceremoniously handed down to the progeny.  Who obviously forgot about it too.  

Poor thing.  

I charged it up yesterday.  It doesn't hold a charge for long now, and the click wheel is a bit persnickety, but it still works fine. I even have 1.3 gig of space left on it.  

Interesting, to go back through and check out music that was in high rotation four years ago.  And bonus! An album on the pod that's not in iTunes for some inexplicable reason.  Now if I can just transfer it....

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Equation

 

I just started reading this book.  Ten minutes in and I'm already feeling guilty about my consumption habits.  

Not that I haven't heard all the stats before, but reading about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch once again causes me to cringe and pat myself on the back for my regular use of reusable bags (even if I leave the lights on with alarming regularity).  

The authors, in the first chapter, made the off-hand comment that we all have bought stuff that we don't need or haven't used much, if at all--stuff that fills our bigger homes, closets and storage sheds.  So on a whim, I put the book down, went to my own closet (a closet that I just seriously thinned out a year ago) and looked for items that fit this description.  

Within 30 seconds I found two pair of shoes and three books.  I've not read any of the books yet, and I've had them all for over a year.  The black shoes I wore once.  I thought they were so cute but the open-toe design cut into my digits and therefore makes them a 90-minute-shoe.  The blue shoes? I have no rational explanation for why I've only worn those three times.  I just don't think about them when I'm getting dressed for work.  But I sure had to have them when I saw them in the store. 

I bought  all of these items on discount, so I was able to rationalize them quite easily at the time of purchase. But the fact of the matter is they're all just taking up space.  

How about you?  How much practically new stuff would you find in your closet?  -> 

Giant (lack of) Reference

I'm ashamed to say I was in The Mart of Darkness on a Sunday night for the soul purpose of buying a Scrabble dictionary.  My uncle is coming to town and he likes to play. I've recently gotten into the game myself and I would like to have a paper dictionary on hand for when I challenge him the obscure words I know he's going to throw out at me.   I figured this was a main-stream enough item to find there.  After all, if a store sells Scrabble surely they sell Scrabble dictionaries.  Right? 

Say you: let me guess.  Foreshadowing.

 Say me: Brilliant! 

I go to the book aisle and I start looking. And looking.  And looking.  And I round the corner and look some more. Then I got to the magazines aisle, which I knew was pointless, but they had to be there. I s-l-o-w-l-y walked up the aisle again, carefully checking both sides up and down.  Not only are there no Scrabble dictionaries, there are no plain-Jane, regular Webster's dictionaries in sight. 

Surely I'm missing them.  SURELY Wal Mart carries dictionaries.  How could they not?  I mean, every house has one.  Yes, yes.  I know all about Dictionary.com.  That's not the point.  A dictionary is just one of those must-have items for your home. 

Then I happen upon the religious section of the book aisle and start noticing the titles.  Oh, there's a bible.  And another.  And another.  And look....there's some down on this shelf too.  Oh, wow. A large print one. And an international one. This one is a gift version.  Wait a second!  They have them on this shelf too?  How many bibles are here? I'm going to count, because I'm really curious.  One, two, three, four, five...

I thought I reached a total and then found a backpack version.  Wait--one, two, THREE different children's versions?  Let me start over. 

I got all the way up to nineteen.  That's right.  Nineteen different kinds of bibles in Wal Mart*.     But not one standard reference book** (The bible reference book notwithstanding).  Oh, and three separate books by Glenn Beck. And two books by Sarah Palin.  And NO dictionary. Which, for the record I don't consider an obscure request.

Apparently it is in Wal Mart.  

Me, to the manager: do you have any dictionaries? 

The Manager (after he looked, and said surely they do, and looked again.  And asked the book employee about them): all my years of working here and no one has ever asked me for one of those. 

Me: Really? How long have you worked here?

The Manager: Ten years.  

At which point I stacked the Bibles and took a picture and posted it on Facebook because I was simply incredulous. How could a store like WAL MART not have a dictionary of any kind?  Not one?!

Naturally my pic got some chatter.  One friend commented that they were probably in the school supply section.  And because I have no life  am compulsive   was ripe with indignation  wanted my research to be thorough for my pending blog rant  got called out and had to drive right by there anyway, I went back to the store and looked in the school section. Plus the three separate office supply sections.  One more check in school supply section just to be sure....


I can state unequivocally that my local Darth Mart is a dictionary-free establishment.  


Which is funny for a place that sells Scrabble games.  


Oh, wait.  They don't sell those either.  -> 


*There's a bible.com that has the full text in several versions and languages for free.  So why do people need paper bibles? This is my response to all of you tempted to come at me with "why do you need a dictionary when you have online versions that are free"?  


**You can find them online, of course.  And perhaps your local Wal Mart has them.  My mid-western-town-of-100,000-plus-people-Wal-Fart doesn't feel the need to carry them is all I'm saying. 

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Lama's Wisdom

   

Can't wait.  People are going to receive The Dalai Lama's Little Book of Wisdom from Santa this year, who will have tucked it in their stockings for the bargain price of $7.98 plus tax.  

At which point the recipient of said wisdom, who is now chaste and perspicacious for reading these little nuggets, will feel they have Facebook status update material for the next year.  It's a simple matter of directly quoting the famed Buddhist because after all, who's going to argue with The Dalai Lama for crying out loud?  

And I will want to crawl through the social networking servers and personally strangle them.  -> 

Oprah, Take Two

     

Let me just start off by saying I think this woman should be forced to travel coach (without her Coach)  AND be forced to buy her entire wardrobe at Target for the rest of her days for putting Dr. Phil on the airways.  


Say you: You are so not going to slam on Oprah.  


Say me: Oh, you watch me.  


Say you: She's the classic rags to riches story!  She grew up with an outhouse, for crying out loud. 


Say me: Yeah, come to find out her "extreme poverty" has always been embellished to make a better story.  


Say you: She's an inspiration to women around the world! 


Say me:  By telling people to bath every day for 15 minutes, hawking nauseating self help platitudes (If you dream it, you can achieve it!) and "The Secret", which is essentially new age, psychological snake oil->


Say you: She's given away millions of dollars! 


Say me: And every time has done a show (or two), and/or a prime-time special, and/or print interviews, and/or magazine articles in her magazine about it.  Which kinda makes it all about her.  Oh, and the Angel Network?  Viewers donate to the organization all the time.  And then Oprah makes donations from that organization in her own name to charities of her choosing.  Slick.    


Say you: What about all those cars she gave away?  Those were cool.  


Say me: The car company donated all those cars and the recipients of said cars got hit with a tax bill to the tune of 7K because the cars were considered prizes and not gifts.  Do YOU have that kind of cash lying around? Oprah?  She just got the publicity for "giving away" the rides. 


Say you: Well, what does your "consumer project" have to do with Oprah anyway?  


Say me: Are you kidding?  The woman has a $50 million, 23,000 square foot mansion.  She calls it...wait for it.... "The Promised Land".  No. Not kidding.  Plus she had the nerve to get the president of Hermes on her  season opening show a few years back so she could take him to task  because she was kicked out of a Paris store when it was closed.  Do you know how much Hermes bags cost? Roughly the cost of a year's college tuition at a state school.  You should need no more than these two tidbits to let you know she is the personification of "consumption".  


Say you:  But...
 
Say me: Not to mention the fact that Oprah IS a brand: talk show, radio shows, production studio, magazine, and God knows what else. She's trademarked her name, for crying out loud.  


Say you: But...


Say me: Plus she's a control freak.  Which doesn't surprise me. What I was shocked to learn is that anyone who ever works for her, from her executive producer down to the woman who washes her sheets, has to sign a gag order saying they will NEVER talk about Oprah.  EVER.  Like, until-they-die kind of "never".  Which is the very definition of "paranoia", suitable for a DSM-IV-R code and everything. 


Say you: Let me talk!  


Say me: OK


Say you: She's obviously a savvy business woman.  


Say me: No doubt.  One doesn't get to be a billionaire without being savvy.  She's also a bit, dare I say, narcissistic.  


Say you: Narcissistic? That seems harsh.   


Say me: Who else has ever graced the cover of her magazine? 


Say you: Ummm....


Say me:  I rest my case.   -> 

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