#207

A few weeks ago, someone asked about the books on my shelf. My apologies for taking so long to put together this list. No excuse at all. I kept meaning to do it, and kept not doing it, but here it is.

Once, there were hundreds of books on my shelves, but many years ago I went on a book diet. Most books are a disappointment; they meander, they get boring, I fall asleep and never wake up. When I find that rare book that's worth reading, it's the beginning of a beautiful friendship — that book goes onto my very small bookshelf, to be re-read in a cycle that won't end until I die.

These are the few books on my eternal re-read shelf.

(And I never noticed until prepping this list that most of them are science fiction books, but that makes sense. Earth in the 21st Century is a gruesome, awful place, and I like escaping it.)

• The God Delusion, by Richard Dawkins

• About Time, by Jack Finney (sci-fi short stories)

• The Body Snatchers, by Jack Finney (sci-fi)

• The Body Snatchers, by Jack Finney (I have two copies)

• Time and Again, by Jack Finney (sci-fi)

• The Man Who Folded Himself, by David Gerrold (sci-fi)

• The Lathe of Heaven, by Ursula K LeGuin (sci-fi)

• To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee

• Elmer Gantry, by Sinclair Lewis

• Neutron Gun, mostly by Gerry Reith (short stories)

• When You Reach Me, by Rebecca Stead (a kids' book, but sci-fi)

• Roadside Picnic, by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky (sci-fi)

• The Death Ship, by B Traven

• Treasure of the Sierra Madre, by B Traven

• Stoner, by John Williams

At breakfast with my mom and sister on Saturday, Mom was well behaved for about an hour, but she drove me crazy twice, for about five minutes each time. Both of the crazy spurts were Mom reruns, though, so I'll keep this brief.

When my non-quite Uncle Kyle died, I grieved privately, cuz that's what I do. Mom gave me grief about my grieving, because she wanted me to go to his memorial service. Fuck that. I don't attend funerals, cremations, or memorial services, and I've told this to my family, many times.

Now someone else I used to know has died, and in a grand double whammy of fate, it's Uncle Kyle's son. Mom wants me to go to his memorial service, but again I ain't going, and I ain't going no matter how many people in that family die.

"I don't go to funerals," again I said. "I've explained that to you already, Mom, several times, and that's enough. No means no, and drop it means drop it." She didn't drop it, so I ignored her and talked to my sister for several minutes, until Mom dropped it.

We talked about other things for what felt like thirty seconds, and then Mom pointed at my face and asked when I'm going to get my teeth fixed.

She brings up my teeth every couple of months or so, so my response is mostly memorized. I sighed as loudly and dramatically as I could, and explained the concept of good manners to the woman who taught me good manners. "It is rude," I said, "and you know it's rude, to comment on someone's physical deformities."

"It's not a deformity," she said, shaking her head. "You can easily get your teeth fixed."

"My teeth are none of your business, unless you're paying the dentist."

"It's my business because I love you," she said.

I said nothing, and she flashed her big Mom smile, a grin so huge it seems bigger than her face, and I hated her. Yeah, sometimes I do hate her. Temporarily, at least.

If I had a speech impediment, would she tell me over and over to get speech therapy? If I had a big scar across my forehead, would she keep telling me to get plastic surgery? I have shitty teeth, and also I have a mirror, so I know that I have shitty teeth. I don't have thousands of dollars to get my teeth deshittified, and if I did have thousands of dollars that's not what I'd spend it on.

Rinse, lather, repeat. I've said all this to Mom before, and said most of it again at breakfast on Saturday, and again she smiled hugely at me, and then the rest of our breakfast was fine.

Mostly paperless: Hitchhiker's magazine finally ends print run

One-word newscast, because it's the same news every time…

Climate change isn't 'coming', it's underway. It'll kill billions, and we're not doing squat about it.

• climate • climate • climate • climate

All cops are bastards, or they know who the bastard cops are and do nothing about it, which is the same thing.

• cops • cops • cops

Republicans are the enemy of common sense, common decency, simple truth, and democracy.

• Republicans • Republicans • Republicans • Republicans • Republicans

State of Scott

♦ ♦ ♦

A great Spock moment, and he wasn't even there.

♦ ♦ ♦

The End

• oɯᴉɹꓒ lⱯ

• Jerzy Urban

10/9/2022

Tip 'o the hat to Linden Arden, ye olde AVA, BoingBoing, Breakfast at Ralf's, Captain Hampockets, CaptCreate's Log, John the Basket, LiarTownUSA, Meme City, National Zero, Ran Prieur, Voenix Rising, and anyone else whose work I've stolen without saying thanks.

Extra special thanks to Becky Jo, Name Withheld, Dave S, Wynn Bruce, and always Stephanie...