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Enjoyed a nice half day in Long Beach.

Went to two estate sales. One where Dr. Pookie picked up some more uranium glass. And the other where I got a handful of BCE science fiction books. Maybe should have got more when they gave us a pretty friendly price for the last day. The sign said $5-$10 for HB's and it was supposed to be half off. It was $6 for 4 books and small garden pot.

Then we parked on Ocean, and strolled along the ocean. Dr. Pookie tried out her new sandals, that have FUCK TRUMP etched into the soles. We slowly figured out the right texture and wetness to leave the best impressions.

May be an image of beach

We got some walking up and down the beach, and then to Gallagher's Irish pub for lunch. Kind of a sleepy 11:30 am vibe there, no doubt it's more animated at night, but they offer tots by the pound and have really fantastic onion rings.

I've been remiss. In no particular order:

Equal Rites, by Terry Pratchett. Hey, it's a Discworld novel. It does what it says on the cover. I was never big into Discworld in its heyday, and I'm still not. The best parts, as is often the case, are little humanist asides. Chosen by work book club

The Poisoner's Handbook, by Deborah Blum. Really a fascinating nonfiction look at the development of forensic science in the 1920s and 1930s in the New York coroner's office, bringing a professional scientific eye to something that had been slapdash at best previously. Also an interesting look at various poisons. Each chapter is devoted to a particular poison and there's a wealth of historical detail on famous criminal cases and horrific industrial accidents and mishaps. Very good.

19th century interlude...

Three Men in a Boat (to say nothing of the dog), by Jerome K Jerome: Three upperclass twits go on a boating holiday by mistake. Hilarity ensues. There are some laugh out loud moments, and it's generally amusing in a Dave Barry-esque breezy way. Two n-words appear as landmines in the middle. Anyway a sample:

[Travelling with cheese in a close railway carriage] And then they both began sniffing, and, at the third sniff, they caught it right on the chest, and rose up without another word and went out. And then a stout lady got up, and said it was disgraceful that a respectable married woman should be harried about in this way, and gathered up a bag and eight parcels and went. The remaining four passengers sat on for a while, until a solemn-looking man in the corner, who, from his dress and general appearance, seemed to belong to the undertaker class, said it put him in mind of dead baby; and the other three passengers tried to get out of the door at the same time, and hurt themselves.

...

Now, I’m not like that. I can’t sit still and see another man slaving and working. I want to get up and superintend, and walk round with my hands in my pockets, and tell him what to do. It is my energetic nature. I can’t help it.

...

Rather an amusing thing happened while dressing that morning. I was very cold when I got back into the boat, and, in my hurry to get my shirt on, I accidentally jerked it into the water. It made me awfully wild, especially as George burst out laughing. I could not see anything to laugh at, and I told George so, and he only laughed the more. I never saw a man laugh so much. I quite lost my temper with him at last, and I pointed out to him what a drivelling maniac of an imbecile idiot he was; but he only roared the louder. And then, just as I was landing the shirt, I noticed that it was not my shirt at all, but George’s, which I had mistaken for mine; whereupon the humour of the thing struck me for the first time, and I began to laugh. And the more I looked from George’s wet shirt to George, roaring with laughter, the more I was amused, and I laughed so much that I had to let the shirt fall back into the water again.

---

Ramona, by Helen Hunt Jackson: The book that brough so many Midwesterners to California in the late 19th century, a romance in Southern California as Mexico gives way to the United States. Race prejudice from white Americans to Mexicans to natives. Miscegenation. Hidden treasures. Missed connections. Horse thieves and gunplay. Plenty of tragedy. I'm not sure it really presents a pleasant picture that should attract people, but there are a few lyrical passages of description of mustard fields and hills and whatnot that really are part of the SoCal landscape and may have felt exotic in Dubuque cornfields.

Back to a more modern century

Lessons in Chemistry, by Bonnie Garmus: Female scientist in the 1950s has really bad experiences at UCLA, pretty bad experience at a Lawrence Livermore-esque lab, finds and loses love, has a second act as a TV cooking/chemistry host, and then a rushed final act where vengeances and come-uppances come up. Enjoyable, but a few cheats and gimmicks and dropped plot threads. On the last point, I'm thinking particularly of the host stating she's an atheist on her live TV show in 1960. Although there's a bit of a flap, the book trundles on and takes the express train to the finale without fully dealing with that.

That Librarian, by Amanda Jones. A Louisiana school librarian thrust into prominence when she stands up for a public library (not school library) being attacked by censors. She is vilified by some of the townsfolk, and ultimately sues a couple of the worst for defamation. She's be the first to tel you she's no saint or superhuman figure, and she's right about that. What I think is both charming and yet detracts from her reliability as the teller of her own tale is how much she indulges in some score-setlling with some of the folk in her own small town. It's petty and yet dish-y. There's some "I won't name any names, but everyone in my town will know exactly who this is." No, really:

Another huge disappointment to me was a local elected official whom I had thought was a friend. I will call her Katie, although people in my community will know the person I am talking about. I’m not bringing her up to settle a score—at least, I hope I’m not. I’m including her so that you know the whole story.

...[different person below]

I almost came unglued and wanted to ask her who was she to quiz me about religion, morals, and agendas when she had a very public affair while she was married, to a police officer who was also married, and both of their marriages ended in divorce because of it. I kept thinking that she had a ton of gall.

But on the good side, the book does do a good job of telling people how librarians deal (within the system) with challenges to books, and why that's probably an adequate and professional way to handle things, and the public can have its say. (And there's no need for grandstanding and running off to lawyers and politicians to start passing laws.)

--

Space Chantey by RA Laffery: A tall-tale science fiction-y retelling of the Odyssey. Bonkers and genius in parts, but a little too bonkers. If Moorcock's Jerry Cornelius is NOT BONKERS ENOUGH for you, this might be perfect.

Definitely a nonzero chance my rant at the Christian Forums will get nuked, so for the benefit of posterity:

A lot of people here seem to be confused about where the lines of division are drawn, and in particular where liberals might stand. Let me try to help explain more directly, at least for my own position, which some people appear to misunderstand.

More importantly, Trump-fans are missing a great opportunity to see me -- me! -- get aboard one car of the Trump train.

I, essentialsaltes, have unfailingly pointed to one particular political sliver as being antithetical to the concept of America. To wit: willfully ignorant and/or xenophobic Christian Nationalist MAGA.

If Trump obeys Elon Musk's directive to open the border (wider) to skilled Indian (and other foreign) workers, those enemies of America will be angry about it (as they have already demonstrated).

Christian xenophobes like Laura Loomer complained that the White House would smell like curry if Kamala won. Loomer apparently chose the lesser of two evils, so that only the Vice President's residence will smell of curry.

Christian xenophobes like Pastor Joel Webber complained that "it’s not that there are [just] different shades of white and brown [in myneighborhood],” he added. “No, it’s like full, straight-up Hindu garb at our neighborhood swimming pool that my daughter is asking [about and] I’m trying to explain.”

If Donald Trump puts a curry shop on every corner, I will feast well and Loomer and Webber will gnash their teeth at ten times the smell of curry and ten times the sight of full, straight-up Hindu garb.

SAFFRON MAN GOOD!

Likewise, the willfully ignorant often shun higher education and dissuade their children from it, thereby reducing the potential supply of educated, skilled workers.

And they chose for their champion: Ivy League educated Donald Trump, who sent most of his kids to his alma mater (sorry, Eric). Barron is not at an Ivy, but is at elite liberal NYU in elite liberal NYC.

And his Ivy League running mate (with an Ivy League wife).

And what prize did the MAGA booboisie win?

A South African atheist techbro scion of wealth reached for the largest megaphone on the face of the planet and called them all r-words!

A Delicate Truth, by John Le Carre

Maybe not a great book, but a very good one, and an interesting wrinkle. Certain spylike shenanigans occur, and then rather than Le Carre's usual cast of spylike people, the attention focuses on civil servants who start pulling threads on something that just doesn't look right. And in fact isn't right. But will governments allow their amoral fiascoes to be exposed? Haha, of course not, silly.

Never, by Ken Follett

Chosen by the company book club. It's a great airplane read, with some more spylike people doing spylike things, and then geopolitical tensions increase until the Uberplot takes over, threatening the world. But will governments come to their senses rather than following tit for tat escalation until everything gets out of control? Haha, of course not, silly.

Playing with Reality: HOW GAMES HAVE SHAPED OUR WORLD By Kelly Clancy

Not quite what I expected, but fascinating nonetheless. A historical look at how games have done more than amuse, but change how we look at war, economy, intelligence, etc. Once upon a time, warlords played chess to hone their strategy. Then, in a bid to make it more pertinent as a simulation of battle, Kriegsspiel was developed, and that became a craze in the Prussian military (and beyond). I presume other wargames also developed out of this, but some people are going back to the original, including the Southern California Kriegsspiel Society, which meets at Strategicon according to Wikipedia. Game theory and how it is and isn't like the economic and political applications made of it in 'real life'. The development of game-playing software and its development from checkers to chess to Go to playing Atari 2600 games. DeepMind, which recently formed part of the Nobel Prize in Chemistry for its protein folding solutions, also trained an AI to play Atari games.

Winter of the Gods, by Jordanna Max Brodsky

I gave it a chance, but I just couldn't get past the first few chapters. The Greek gods are alive and well in Manhattan. Just something about the overall tone and characterization -- not for me. Picked up for a pittance at a library sale -- I didn't realize then that it's a book 2 of a series, but that really wasn't the problem.

LA Times:

When L.A. Opera invited Gustavo Santaolalla to write a new score for the Spanish version of the 1931 film “Dracula” to be performed live with an orchestra, the Oscar-winning composer was intrigued by the potential to combine traditional movie soundtrack techniques with an experimental approach.

A couple photos.

--

Dr. Pookie and I went to the third and final show on Sunday afternoon at the gorgeous United [Artists] Theater on Broadway, built in 1927 in the style of the cathedral in Segovia, Spain. [OMG, for a time, Gene Scott broadcast from there!] Inside, everything was lit up luridly in red.

In short, it was a fantastic experience. The film was great; the music was great; the film (1930s Universal style) with the music (modern film score style) was great.

For those not in the know, a largely Spanish-language cast and crew took over the sets of the Tod Browning/Bela Lugosi Dracula production, shooting at night while the English cast shot by day. Many claim it's a better version, and they are right. Much of the beginning is largely a shot by shot match for the English version, but it departs quite a bit later on with longer takes, additional dialogue, and a few pieces of absolutely superior staging. 'Spanish Dracula' is nearly a half hour longer. And this additional material helps the whole story cohere much better and makes the ending much less abrupt. [About a week before we watched the Bela Lugosi version for some reference.]

I'll mention two significant improvements. In both, there's a scene where Van Helsing discovers Dracula has no reflection (in the lid of a cigarette box). In the English version, we see Dracula standing (and not standing in the reflection) next to Mina bidding her goodbye. In the Spanish version, he kisses her hand, so in reflection we see her holding her hand up to empty air, making the point much better. Shortly thereafter, the Count is tricked into looking into the cigarette box lid. Bela Lugosi does do a great take, where his face swells with rage and fear and he slaps the box to the ground with his hand. Spanish Dracula upstages him slightly by dashing the box with his cane and cigarettes go flying cinematically.

In one of the comedic sections, the sanatorium ward and a nurse are commiserating that they are the only two sane people "and sometimes I worry about you" the ward says to the nurse. And the scene sort of ends with them standing there awkwardly. Spanish nurse sticks her nose in the air and strides away in a huff.

Anyway, it seemed clear that Spanish Dracula is more satisfying and just better as a film. I would say one critical minus is that Spanish DP could never get the proper focus on Dracula's eyes. So Bela's mesmeric stare (and the film shot of it) is better than Spanish Dracula.

It's possible I'm swayed by the additional effect of the music, and what music! Beyond the orchestra, there was effective and extensive use of accordion, electric guitar and the additional bonus of some foley work, occasionally timed to the beat of the music [typewriter clicking and dinging as we read the headlines about the fate of the Demeter.]

Santaolalla played guitar (and drums!) for the performance which was an added bonus. I could feel some connection to his work for The Last of Us, but where that was intimate, this is big and melodramatic with full orchestra. I might quibble that the 'sting' when Dracula first gets Dracul-y is too melodramatic, but hey, this is freaking Dracula here.

Honestly much better than I had hoped and expected.

--

Afterwards, we strolled to Cole's, which I'm sorry to say is sliding into dive bar territory. The French Dips and drinks were still great, and the horseradish mustard remains addictive, but economics (I assume) have eliminated the wait staff, so you order at the bar. Tables in the back have been removed and pool tables put in. The formerly ironic signs about ladies being requested to be discreet in their soliciting seem more sincere. Still worthy, but not like it was when we wore onions on our belts.

The Washington Post had a live chat (well, it's still live as I write this) for people to ask questions about effects of the presidential election on one's finances.

The live chat featured a generic version of my question (seemingly many WaPo readers were thinking about it).

Jeff Stein's kind answer offers a little more detail than the public one.

[Once upon a time, I calculated that Trump's tax plan increased our effective tax rate by a bit more than a half a percent, largely because of the SALT cap. Raising to $20K would suit us fine.]

Cap on SALT tax deduction

Essentialsaltes in Los Angeles

7:39 a.m.

I believe Trump has mentioned removing the cap his own enacted tax plan imposed (which had negative effects primarily for residents of 'high tax' 'blue' states). Has either campaign said anything definitive about any changes to the state and local tax (SALT) deduction? And what might the consequences be?

Jeff Stein

This is a fun one that many of our readers care a lot about. Trump seems to have reversed himself on the SALT cap in part to help vulnerable N.Y. Republicans hang onto their House seats; this is a huge priority for them, despite the fact, as you point out, that it was the GOP tax law of 2017 that created the cap in the first place. As for Harris, she has avoided taking a firm position on the issue, although many top Democrats, including Senate Majority Leader Charles E. Schumer (D-N.Y.), have called for lifting the cap.

I’m guessing here and you can yell at me in a year if I’m wrong but I think it’s likely we see some pairing back of the cap – maybe raising it to $20K instead of $10K, or abolishing it for some lower-income taxpayers rather than everyone – in the big fight over taxes we’re expecting in Congress in 2025. Democrats will be reluctant to go too far, however, because a lot of economists say upper-income households would benefit most from repealing the cap.

essentialsaltes guide to election 2024

As I’ve said before, I think proposition writers are getting craftier and craftier and making things more and more confusing, with good provisions used to mask bad provisions they really want (and I don’t). I find it a hard rule to follow myself, but if you don’t quite understand it, just vote no.

I'm certainly not guaranteed to be right -- feel free to leave comments.

Additional help

LA Times endorsements

LA Bar judicial evaluations (for the primary, but still useful for the runoff/final election)

Another set of opinions on the props

This is the order on my ballot in my little chunk of unincorporated LA County.

LAUSD District 1: Sherlett Newbill

LACC Board: LA Times recommends the incumbents and I agree. Many (but not all) of the other candidates appear to be perennial candidates for various offices.

Assembly: Isaac Bryan

Congress: Kamlager-Dove (though I give a shout out to Juan Rey who managed to get 2nd place in the primary with no party preference. He actually reps the Working Class Party, which honors the Wobblies as antecedents.)

Measure LL: calls for redistricting of LAUSD every 10 years. Sure, why not? No opponents put their names up.

Measure US: $9B in bonds for LAUSD construction/improvements

Not how we should do things, but maintenance and repair is way behind. I don’t like that new construction is included, and there’s no breakdown in how funds will be spent. Reluctant yes. If Prop 2 passes, they could stack well (as would the tax burden).

Measure E: YES. LA County emergency response — a little inside baseball, but LA City and some other cities have their own fire systems; this addresses other parts of the county (like where we live). Although mostly touted as something to help replace antiquated 911 communication technology, the tax is permanent until repealed by voters. I feel a little bait and switched, but the voters are somewhat to blame. According to the LA Times, the county fire district lost the ability to impose taxes on its own. And it gets no funds from the General Fund. So if you think fire and emergency response costs are generally rising, this is our chance to address it responsibly. A similar measure failed because it needed a 2/3 vote. This version was voter-initiated and can pass with a majority.

District Attorney: Nathan Hochman. I know I know. He’s a Republican (or at least he was 2 years ago). And not everything bad that has happened in LA County is Gascon’s fault. But a lot of things Gascon has said and done have just rubbed me the wrong way.

Judges

My picks either align with the LA Bar recommendations, or when there’s a tie between equally qualified candidates, I find a tie breaker

39: Turner. Morningside valedictorian and UCLA summa cum laude & ΦΒΚ. Go Bruins!

48: Rose

97: Ransom

135: Yee Mac. Clearer vision and website than opponent.

137: Blount

Measure G: expanding the county board from 5 to 9 makes sense. Adding an elected executive ‘mayor’, I’m not so keen on. We’re distributing power, and then centralizing it. Yes?

Measure A: Sales taxes are inherently regressive. This would double the expiring sales tax devoted to homelessness. I think there are other, better props on the ballot for addressing housing and homelessness. No.

Prop 2: $10B in bonds for repairing schools. It also reduces slightly the amount poorer schools need to come up with to get matching state funds. This is how it plays well with Measure US.

Bonds aren’t a great way to fund things the government should just be doing. And I don’t like that it sets aside funds specifically for charter schools (fuck them). On the bright side, CA’s overall debt obligation has been declining. By no means is the credit card paid off, but for important things we can charge it. Yes.

Prop 3: Obvious Yes. Removes the unenforceable language that bans SSM. Costs nothing, right thing to do.

Prop 4: $10B in bonds for wildfire/environmental/drinking water oriented projects. The same stuff for Prop 2 about bonds goes for this one. I think I’m a stronger Yes on Prop 4. If and when CA gets another budget surplus, CA already requires a lot of spending on education and schools. I think it’s more likely lawmakers will be able to address the problems Prop 2 fixes than the ones Prop 4 hopes to fix.

Prop 5: Lowers the vote threshold for local bond measures from two-thirds to 55% if the bonds are for housing/infrastructure. Here’s one of those ways to address housing/homelessness. Bonds are still in the voters’ hands, but the 2/3 threshold is often insurmountable.

Prop 6: Eliminates forced prison labor. Yes.

Prop 32: Raises minimum wage from the current $16 to $18/hr, effectively doubling it from $9 ten years ago. I feel we’ve ramped it up so rapidly, we need time to absorb and assess. We all passed a prop to put it where it is now. Inflation pinches of course, but we’ve already done a lot (especially compared to the pathetic national minimum wage unchanged since 2009). No (for now).

Prop 33: This again? Voters have rejected it twice, and I think they should again. Why is the rent too damn high? There is not enough housing. How do We The People get more housing? We can tax ourselves and do it ourselves (see Prop 5). And we can make it more inviting for private builders to build it on their own dime. LA has done a lot in the past few years along those lines with zoning changes, incentives for low-income housing, and reducing building costs for locations near public transit, etc.

But in the end, those private builders want to make money, and rent control puts limits on their return on investment. So Prop 33 might offer some benefits to people who already have housing, but the very real housing crisis will be made worse.

If, on the other hand, we encourage building even more housing, increasing that supply to better match demand -- that could also lead to lower rents.

The Costa-Hawkins law is now old enough that I certainly support moving the 1995 date for what counts as ‘newly built’ (and immune to grandfathered rent control laws on the books in many cities) forward. Developers have gotten their money back over those 30 years, and older buildings can slip into rent control where applicable.

But for this, once again NO.

Prop 34: Correctly called the Revenge Initiative against the AIDS Healthcare Foundation, for giving us Prop 33 three times. And I can feel my own desire for revenge. Prop 34 is aimed at

Healthcare organizations…

that get certain federal benefits…

and spent $100 million on things other than healthcare (like promoting prop 33)…

and are slumlords with at least 500 high severity housing violations.

The AIDS Healthcare Foundation is likely the unique entity that qualifies. It is a slumlord that doesn’t want housing competition to be built. And will spend $100 million to defend its turf by discouraging new construction (prop 33).

That said, though I feel that desire for revenge, that’s a bad reason to pass a law, so also NO on this one.

Prop 35: I agree with the LA Times on this one. It’s framed as a feel-good measure, but this is one of those too complicated to understand issues, and should be left to the legislature. NO.

Major healthcare providers want it, because it would increase Medi-Cal reimbursement rates. But this comes at the cost of $12 billion near-term and an unknown amount long-term that is unfunded. Prop 35 is opposed by “Gov. Gavin Newsom, the League of Women Voters, the California Budget & Policy Center and community health organizations that were left off the list of service providers guaranteed higher funding in Proposition 35.” Uh, and me.

Prop 36: No. Police are already doing a better job of using existing laws to go after smash and grab robberies — with one big help being the use of Jan 6th style video identification. Prop 36 may feel attractive, but it will increase the prison population without providing any means of funding. Likewise the drug intervention has no funding, and waitlists for those programs are already long.

Meanwhile Prop 47 funds that we saved when we reduced prison populations were dedicated to homelessness and drug treatment, so another effect of 36 would be to essentially transfer money from those programs back to prisons.

For better or worse, Prop 36 looks like it’s sailing to victory. So much so that the Yes on 36 campaign gave $1 million to the California Republican Party.

Behold the Ape by James Morrow

A bonkers short novel of early Hollywood monster movies and a brain-swapped Charles Darwin, placed in the body of a gorilla. What if a vamp found her muse in gorilla-Darwin and found a way to circumvent the benighted education laws of the Scopes Trial days by putting more accurate versions of natural selection into horror movies? Strange and silly and enjoyable, but its heart is obviously in the right place since the creationists are the villains.

Is Math Real? by Eugenia Cheng

I initially hoped (given the title) that this was about whether math is fictional. After reading a review, it's clear it wasn't, but she actually does touch on it a bit in the epilogue, and I think she would be amenable to the idea. But what is it actually? I think one of the goals of the book is to introduce math (like real math-y math) to people who may be math-phobes or 'not good at math'. The book does a great job explaining lots of things with copious analogies, some very clever, and some more strained. I think for people who are curious about math, but maybe imagine that professional mathematicians multiply REALLY BIG NUMBERS together or something like that, this would be a great introduction to what math is really about. The only drawback to the book is that there are some glaringly intrusive passages in the book that I can't help but call 'Woke'. I mean, woke is not a term I self-apply, but I'm about as liberal as they come, and these still stand out like a sore thumb. The author could have achieved a similar effect if there was a reminder to the reader every 25 pages to stare at a picture of Greta Thunberg's scowling face for 15 seconds.

Given the cruise, I'm a bit behind (and getting behinder)

After Dark, Haruki Murakami

Naturally, there's some stylish choices, but ultimately this tale of the wee hours fails on a couple points, mainly due to authorial cheating. We're given a tense set-up, and the resolution is just a deflating rabbit out of a hat rather than a release of tension. Similarly, the whole novel just ends. I can't even add an adverb to that. It stops.

Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Gothic romance/horror is full of tropes and this (naturally) hits them. But I appreciated the phantasmagorical sense of our protagonist getting unsettled by the mansion and getting to doubt her senses. If our heroine were just slightly less competent, she'd share the fate of her cousin she's come to rescue.

The Future was Now, Chris Nashawaty

A non-fiction look at the origin stories and making of 8 classic science fiction(*) films that blasted into theaters in a short summer span in 1982. Nicely follows the threads of writers, directors, producers as they move from recent projects into the featured ones. Probably only of great interest to people (like me) who were sentient and movie-going in 1982 -- of the 8 films, I own 5 on disc. For the record, the 8 films are Blade Runner, Tron, ET, Poltergeist, Wrath of Khan, The Thing, Mad Max, and Conan [*definitely not!]. I fear Nashawaty's right about the ultimate effect of summer blockbusters on the industry:

By the dawn of the ’90s (continuing right up till the time this book is being written), what should have been a new golden age of sci-fi and fantasy cinema became a pop-culture beast that would devour itself to death and infantilize its audience in the process. Four-plus decades ago, we were entertained, enthralled, and enlightened.

Now we get a firehose of MCU and unnecessary Ghostbusters-flavored or IntellectualProperty-flavored content.

Ladylord, Sasha Miller

Fantasy set in a vaguely Japanese milieu, where a daughter is declared the heir (and son) to one of the 5 kingdoms. She has to prove herself to the Big Cheese by cutting down the tallest tree in the forest with a herring. It starts a little ham-fisted, and ends in an absurdly abrupt courtroom scene, but the middle of the book has lots of nice scheming and political machinations that's mostly separate from the protagonist's far less interesting quest. Goes slightly too far out of its way to be spicy sexy.

The Guncle, Steven Rowley

An intoxicated cruise guest pressed this into our hands when he saw us reading quietly in a space on the ship. I vaguely remember seeing a favorable review, so why not? It owes a lot to Auntie Mame. I mean a LOT; it's practically a modern retelling. It doesn't quite absolve it of its lack of originality, but it does clearly make this debt explicit. Rather than an aunt 'inheriting' a nephew to raise, we have the gay uncle inheriting his brother's kids after their mother dies (and the brother goes into rehab). A good job of touching on both the humor and tragedy/humanity of the situation. Some truly funny moments.

I haven't been keeping contemporaneous diaries of travel adventures for a while. This probably saves everyone a lot of time. But here's my take on our recent trip on Carnival Legend around the UK. Legend is among the smallest ships currently in the Carnival Fleet, and is just a tad bigger than the erstwhile Celebrity Galaxy, our first (and best) cruise experience. Just as a quick summary, Carnival did not make a good showing for us, the main letdown being the food in the main dining hall. On most cruises, these have been causes for celebration -- three or four courses with a schmancy-quality waitstaff and maybe even a sommelier. On Legend, there's no time for chitchat. The ordertakers take orders. Everything else about the cruise (including the casual dining options) was pretty good. Anyway, to the recap:

We flew into Heathrow and got the shuttle bus to Dover to get us on the ship. Neat to see the White Cliffs in the flesh, so to speak. I was out of sorts from the long flight, but a hamburger helped to sort me out -- only afterwards did I see that I'd been to Flavortown. The burger spot is Guy Fieri-branded (and Emeril has left his mark on the main dining room menus).

As we recombobulated from the flight, it was good to have a sea day the next day. Scout out the ship. Find the food. Find the booze. Find the reading spots. Find the minigolf course. Avoid the shops. Avoid the casino. Avoid the Fun Squad.

The following day, we were berthed at Cobh, Ireland, a short trainride from Cork. Once in Cork, we took the (packed) local bus to Blarney Castle. Like most days on the trip, the weather was rainy to drizzly in the morning, and gradually improving into the afternoon, when blue skies might appear. There was a 90 minute wait to go kiss the Blarney Stone, which wasn't that great an attraction for us anyway. But the Castle and Manor itself are surrounded by gardens, so we wandered through poisonous plants, carnivorous plants, ferns, and what not for a time before heading back to Cork. I thought we might do lunch at the English Market in Cork, but it was closed on Sundays. We found a friendly Irish pub for sandwiches and cider. We walked a bit more around Cork before returning to the ship. We probably should have spent more time in Cobh, which looked like it had some charm, but we were pretty beat by this point. As the ship left, though, we watched Cobh slip past and away from the deck. Saw some properly Emerald landscapes before we were out to sea pointing back across the Irish Sea.

In Holyhead, Wales we took the train to Bangor, and from there a bus to Caernarfon. Caernarfon Castle is really an amazing place. It looks brand-new, but is 700 years old (though I gather much of it was restored in the 19th century). Due to its completeness, visitors have almost complete run of the place. Climb every tower, walk every battlement. Some of the areas have historical exhibits and such inside. So we walked all over and inside the place until we were tired, and then back into the city for some ice cream. Back to the bus, back to the train, back to the ship, which again tacked the other way across the Irish Sea.

Alas, in the morning, the weather and waves were so rough that we had to skip Dublin entirely. Probably the stop I was most excited about. There was enough motion in the ship to be noticeable, especially in the long hallways along the cabins, where you found yourself being sucked by gravity to one side or the other as you tried to walk in a straight line. But honestly nothing that raised any discomfort or concern. So... another U-turn across the Irish Sea.

Liverpool turns out to be a great cruise port, mainly because the terminal is smack dab in the middle of everything. No trains or buses or trams to take to get you somewhere. You're right there. We walked along the Three Graces and the museums nearby We spent some time in the Maritime museum, which had rich displays on the Lusitania as well as more generally about WWI and WWII naval history. After some more walk through the streets, we entered the Western Approaches War Museum in Liverpool, in the underground facility in charge of protecting the British Coast in WWII. Again lots of great original artifacts, from a giant map room to an Enigma machine. A nice little mini-museum on the Wrens as well.

After that, we stopped for Brazilian Nachos, which were slow to come and we wolfed them down in order to make it to our 'Couples' Gin Making appointment at the Liverpool Gin Distillery. This turned out to be a great experience. Some history of gin and gin-making (accompanied by more gin and tonics than we could safely drink). We got our own little copper still, and our choice of botanicals to go in the mix. It was similar to our kitchen sink absinthe experiments, but a large notch more professional -- even to the extent of having a refractometer to measure the alcohol percentage. Once we had a little taste of our own medicine, we had a chance to name it. We had been struck by the Liver Birds on the Royal Liver Insurance building (one of the 3 Graces) and had learned it was the mythical cormorant-ish symbol of Liverpool, so we went with that as a name. We also got to apply the wax seal to the top. Back to the ship, where we had our Chef's Table appointment -- instead of dinner in the dining room, we had a special meal with a dozen cruisers overseen by one of the chefs. We toured the galley, which was just as hectic as one might imagine, but the pastry chef gave us a quick lesson in cake. The meal itself came in numerous courses, and the staff did a great job dealing with my picky eating. Definitely a highlight of food on the ship (the other one being the huevos rancheros at brunch). But not the trip as a whole. No disrespect to the chef, but we had lined up some Michelin-starred ringers for the next two days.

In Glasgow, we took our only excursion (since we're pretty confident taking buses and trains and what-not on our own). This went out just a hairsbreadth into the Highlands to visit Glengoyne Distillery, one of the minority of whisky distilleries still under Scottish ownership. Our local guide was quite a hoot. Crazy to think his straight job is as a professor. He oversaw a lot of US students, and apparently made an easy 5 pound a shot for recording voicemails as Shrek. The distillery gave us a great tour of the facility and the process and a wee dram or two of the local product. Good stuff. Dr. Pookie was happy to learn it's available at Total Wines.
The next short stop was at Loch Lomond. I'm afraid we had a romantic vision of 'the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond.' For the locals, it's a spot for entertainment with paddleboats, minigolf, and a churro stand. Then back to the boat.

The ship was in Glasgow until the wee hours, so we had plenty of time to do more. I barely made it on the train waiting for us near the port, and then we walked a bit around the town. We stopped at the bar in Citizen for some excellent cocktails, before heading along to Unalome for dinner. Now I wish I had a more complete diary entry, but everything was lovely. Particularly, the duck dish, where the breast was prepared as well as any I've ever imagined, and the confit leg (or whatever it was) was likewise superlative. Beets and taters and raspberry as complements.

The next day in Belfast, we enjoyed St. George's Market, with everything from antiques to gigantic sandwiches on offer. Ultimately, we had an excellent lunch at OX, where again the attention to detail, presentation and flavor was astounding. Even the butter was the best butter in the entire world (thank you Irish cows). Afterwards, we strolled more around Belfast before getting back to the ship.

After Belfast, another day at sea, then back to Dover, and then to our little Z Hotel in Covent Garden for an extra half-or-so day in London. Spent more time at the British Museum -- it's been 34 years since we were last there, but heck, even the mummies are only 1% older, so they were just like old friends. Got Dr. Pookie some very authentic fish and chips before turning in and preparing for the trip home.

In the morning, the Tube to Heathrow and then on the giant flying metal tube for LA.

Plastic, by Scott Guild is a pretty wild idea.

Both a crypto-comedic dystopian fantasy [definitely that] and a deadly serious dissection of our own farcical pre-apocalypse [not sure it's quite that], Scott Guild’s debut novel is an achingly beautiful, disarmingly welcoming, and fabulously inventive look at the hollow core of modern American society—and a guide to how we might reanimate all its broken plastic pieces.

Hard to summarize, but in this universe, people are essentially animate Barbie dolls -- hollow and plastic. Rather than living in a Barbie world, theirs is a bit darker, with eco-terrorists carrying out deadly attacks to draw attention to the "heat leap", the analogue of global warming caused in this case by using chicken bones as fuel (as we might use plastic doll oil feedstocks in our own self-created problem). Another odd point of the world is our doll-people speak in a simple caveman-esque diction. Fortunately, our heroine Erin has a rich internal monologue that fleshes (or plastics) out her thoughts in more compelling prose. Enjoyable characters, gonzo presentation. And while I appreciate the farcical/satirical elements, I didn't care for the ending, which just kind of rammed the dial into 11 and crashed the plane rather than trying to attempt a landing.

The Storm is Upon Us, How QAnon became a movement, cult, and conspiracy theory of everything by Mike Rothschild

I picked this up from a Little Free Library. It was published in May 2021, so it tells the story, in journalistic fashion, of the rise of QAnon from its origins to its role in January 6th. Obviously, we've had almost another 4 years of history after that. QAnon has gotten a bit quieter, but in some ways, as soon as it became the theory of everything, now some pieces of that (say election denial) have practically become GOP orthodoxy now. Really useful as a history of the origins and original threads of the movement, but (hey, not it's fault, I'm reading it 3 years too late) not that applicable to the situation now. Has some nice sections with how 'cult' experts think of QAnon, and some material from Mick West about how to pull your friends and loved ones out of the rabbit hole (and how not to).

Flickr Album

1221 miles in 120 hours

We flew in to Albuquerque late in the afternoon, so we didn't have much time here. We went to the central square, but the town was already rolling up the sidewalk for the most part. We made our way to Sawmill Market for dinner -- a green chile infused French Dip. Pretty good.

The next morning, we drove to Petroglyph National Monument. The hike we took literally abuts against suburbia, but soon gets you out into the wilderness surrounded by piles and hills of black volcanic rock, that (when scratched) shows up lighter. Some of the marks date thousands of years back, but most are from 1300-1700. Interesting, but (like other petroglyphs of our acquaintance) not *WOW* interesting. We also took a short scenic bypass through some areas that give a hint of what the area looked like long ago (before suburbia eats it). We stopped briefly in Corrales to tour the cemetery. Italian and other immigrants from the 19th century.

And then we left Albuquerque and took the longer scenic bypass (NM 14 - The Turquoise Trail) to Santa Fe. Pretty along the way. Tried to stop for lunch in Madrid, but lady bikers had swarmed the town and the cafe. I was nowhere near tough enough looking to get any service from the waitstaff.

In Santa Fe, we spent some time in the central square, and toured the New Mexico History Museum, which also abuts the Governor's Palace, which is also part of the museum. Lots of good artifacts and displays, including a section about Fred Harvey and the Harvey Houses and the railroad in New Mexico. Also a surprise little exhibit of the art of Peter Aschwanden, noted for his work in How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive.

Dinner was at Restaurant Martin, and was the highlight of the trip, in terms of food. The beet salad (not apt to be a wowser) was a wowser. I particularly appreciated the symmetry of the orange citrus slice on the pink beet and the pink citrus slice on the orange beet. The beef filet and its accompaniments was also excellent.

Next morning we drove out of Santa Fe to Bandelier National Monument (passing near Los Alamos, with a few LANL facilities along the way, including an unexpected radio telescope/receiver that popped out of the landscape). Bandelier is set into a narrow canyon, and the cliff faces were the site of extensive cliff dwellings. Not as impressive as Mesa Verde, but still quite fascinating. We saw lots of deer in the park, including does helping to shelter their fawns as they dashed across the human path.

From there a long drive out to Taos, where we were disappointed to find that the Taos Pueblo is closed for some restoration work. At least we had the consolation of a nice burrito in Taos. From there, back to Santa Fe and then dinner at Geronimo, which topped a few lists of best restaurants in New Mexico. While I have no complaints, now that I am out of New Mexico, I am here to tell you that Restaurant Martin is better than Geronimo. I get the sense that Geronimo has become an institution over its 30 or so years of existence. I liked the addition of wasabi to the caesar salad dressing, and the gnocchi like rice dice 'croutons' were neat. I went for the special, which was short rib. Certainly the short rib was the star of the dish, but there was very little other than that star on the plate. What was there was good, especially the onion puree/reduction.

Next morning we headed south, stopping first in Roswell. We largely avoided the kitschy alien stuff, but you can't entirely. We dropped by the Roswell Museum and Art Center, which had great displays on Robert Goddard, who carried out some of his rocketry experiments in the area. This included his entire workshop's contents, relocated into the museum. The original museum building was built by the WPA, and there was some furniture and a few architectural elements in the new building. Leaving Roswell, we pressed on to Carlsbad, where I enjoyed the green chile infused lasagna at the Trinity Hotel, where we stayed. After dinner, we traveled the 30 miles to the Caverns and settled ourselves into the Bat Flight Amphitheater, which is perched above the natural entrance to the caverns. At dusk, bats became trickling out and leaving in larger groups. Not the huge boiling tornado of bats one might hope for, but still an interesting experience. One bat took a low altitude flight through the seated people for a bonus little thrill. Easy to see his furry little bod close up, but mostly the bats are just dark flappy shapes in the sky.

The next morning we came back to tour the Caverns themselves, taking the elevator down 750 feet to the main chamber. It's astonishing, something like 4 football fields in area. Photos don't quite do it justice, and it's certainly a different experience to be in it, rather than looking at images of it. It's a natural wonder of the world. Fantastic.

From there we drove back through Carlsbad to Artesia, where we hung a left to take road to Alamogordo, passing through some forest and a picturesque pass through the mountains. I realized after the fact that the blinding white patch we could see in the distance as we came down through the pass was White Sands National Park. First some side trips for a nice pollo adovado at Casa de Sueños outside Tularosa and a few tasty minutes spent at PistachioLand (and its world's largest pistachio). White Sands is also an amazing place, but having seen Carlsbad Caverns that morning, it was a distant second. The gypsum sands feel smooth and cool, and drift into dunes with little ridge patterns. From there on to our hotel in Las Cruces for some well earned beer after a long thirsty day.

Next morning, we swung by the world's largest chile pepper, before turning the car north back to Albuquerque. The exit at Hatch was closed, but we did get a good green chile burger at the Owl Bar & Cafe (that both of us kept calling the Owlbear Cafe) in San Antonio. Also in that area is the Bosque de Apaches Wildlife Refuge, a notable spot for birders, and even we managed to spot some geese and ducks as we drove by.

Then back to the airport and home.

The Tailor of Panama by John Le Carré

I feel sure I saw the film with Pierce Brosnan and Geoffrey Rush, but I don't remember a damn thing about it. Anyway, Le Carré's writing is so dry that it takes a while [me anyway] to figure out that this is something of a black comedy. It has the feel of Basil Fawlty pursuing some plan, with layer after layer of lies building up to a fiasco. But instead of a crappy gourmet night, we have death and an invasion of Panama. A good read.

The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett

Set in a very strange fantasy world, a detective assistant duo unravel mysterious murders that also tie into the political elites of the world. Many have commented on the similarity to Holmes/Watson in the main characters. It's very strong in the first chapter, where our Holmes does annoying Holmes-like deductions. But later, I think the book settles down and finds its own weird groove, and feels fresher than warmed over Conan Doyle. Also a good read.

Yumi and the Nightmare Painter by Brandon Sanderson

Very different people from very different worlds become psychically linked and must work to solve the problems facing their worlds. I found much of the story appealing, but a lot of elements bothered me. The story purports to be narrated by a particular well-informed narrator; when it intrudes more into the story, it's both unhelpful and, well, intrusive. Conscious or not, the book has a streak of anti-science. Coming off the Tainted Cup with a very weird world that was somehow real, this novel gives us two very weird worlds that are bullshit. The author must be doing something right to get people to fork out millions for a Kickstarter, but I was not impressed.

I've Been Thinking by Daniel C. Dennett

It's something of an autobiography of philosopher Dan Dennett, who is my spirit animal. He's done a lot of good (IMHO) work in dispelling a number of *wrong* ways of thinking about consciousness, and his other interests in artificial intelligence, evolutionary theory, etc. are also of great interest.

There's an awful lot more celebrity name-dropping in this than I expected, but I won't begrudge him his fame. Nothing earth-shattering, but a lot of interesting details, like that he was essentially one of the inaugural professors at UC Irvine when the campus got started, only later moving to Tufts where he's been happy ever since. A nice vignette about his farm in Maine with some description of his neighbors that are more sympathetic than those he gives to a number of asshole philosophers when he finally unloads on them in one short chapter about academic bullies. If Dennett is also your spirit animal, then you'll enjoy this. If you don't know who I'm talking about, it's not likely this will appeal

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

Supernatural skullduggery among the 'secret' societies of Yale (like Skull and Bones). An enjoyable, but very dark, rollercoaster ride, but the number of smug Ivory Tower elitists is maddening. It helps somewhat that our heroine is a SoCal gutterpunk, but I did keep rooting for asteroid strike -- a pox on all their houses. Lots of interesting prose and more than enough action, but the whole set-up seems a bit contrived, and the possibilities of magic seem pushed by the requirements of the plot more than any coherent system. Go Bruins.

The House at Awful End by Philip Ardagh

I picked this out of a little free library initially because of the Gorey-adjacent illustrations by David Roberts. And the story clearly has a pleasantly dark theme. Allegedly the author wrote this story out, chapter by chapter, for a lonely nephew trapped in a boarding school. Maybe it doesn't go quite as dark as Ninth House, but it goes pretty dark for something aimed at kids. And not just dark, but kind of nasty in a way that goes beyond Roald Dahl's stories if not Roald Dahl's actual life. The book's humor (as such) is a series of random improbable predicaments. I can see how the episodic nature of its composition might lend to that, but it's just not funny. I'm probably wrong, though. The Financial Times writes 'it would be a sad spirit that didn't find this book hilarious," and if any journal is an expert in comedy, it's FT.

Dream relocation or Lovecraftian descent into madness?

At 5 years old, [Sara O'Neil] told her mom [in Iowa] that she’d live by the ocean someday.

As an adult, she made her dream a reality. Sara joined the Navy, married, had four kids and, for more than two decades, built a life in Southern California.

Then the COVID-19 pandemic hit, and with it the realization that the Golden State’s liberal politics didn’t align with hers.

Wanting to feel grounded during a tumultuous time, Sara and Johnny started going back to church. They picked Calvary Imperial Beach chapel, part of the sprawling Costa Mesa megachurch that was meeting in person — in defiance of state restrictions on large gatherings.

Sara, then a nurse at Sharp Mary Birch Hospital for Women & Newborns, managed to get a medical exemption [for the COVID vaccination] because she said she’d experienced an anaphylactic shock with a previous vaccine. After three interviews, Johnny, a Navy vet turned firefighter, won a religious exemption.

Still, COVID-era California weighed on them. Sara worried that she might be living in the end times the Bible prophesied.

And as Sara and Johnny soon learned, their new church had an outpost in Iowa, stocked with people like them.

So Sara and her husband, Johnny, a Southland native with a sunny disposition to match, packed up and joined the droves of Californians leaving the state, some for political reasons.

The church attracts 30 to 40 attendees on any given Sunday, and members say about half are from the Golden State. In the Ames church, the newcomers found a community of like-minded folks. Together they worried about vaccines, prayed outside Planned Parenthood offices and said blessings at antiabortion clinics.

Johnny, she said, will more than likely vote for Trump, whose track record he trusts. Sara’s views are complicated. She blames Trump for the first pandemic lockdowns, and for funding vaccine research. Although Trump “was obnoxious to listen to,” Sara excuses his racist comments, such as characterizing Mexican immigrants as “rapists.”

The couple, who both served in the military after Sept. 11, 2001 — Sara in the Persian Gulf — now doubt that Al Qaeda carried out the attacks, a view that is unsupported by evidence.

“I think 9/11 was a CIA mission, and I think they blew up that building,” Johnny said. “There’s too much evidence. I’ve seen too many videos.”

the oldest two kids reminisced with their parents about one of the things they miss most about California: the state’s diversity.

At his Iowa high school, Johnathan still can’t believe how his friends at school casually use a derogatory slur as a nickname for the one Black student on the football team.

“Casual racism, I will say, that’s a real thing,” he said. “I didn’t think it was a real thing until I moved out here.”

[The Family] insisted that they’re still all in, despite their gripes about Iowa’s lack of diversity and limited understanding of Mexican food.

Never Let Me Go, by Kazuo Ishiguro

Given how much I enjoyed Klara and the Sun, this was a disappointment. Some good character studies as a cohort comes up in school and then leaves for 'the real world' as alliances and friendships and petty cruelties shift back and forth. But that's about all it is. Maybe that's enough. An additional layer of dystopian horror (to which our protagonists are largely blind) is almost irrelevant.

Miskatonic Missives, by the HPL Historical Society.

I ponied up for the kickstarter for this matched set of volumes exploring 3 letters from HPL to Duane Rimel, Barlow (his future literary executor) and Robert E Howard. They are a sui generis take on presenting the letters, sortofa printed/illustrated attempt at a hypertext. Short stories mentioned by Lovecraft are printed in full or part later in the volume. Covers of magazine. Maps of places visited. Occasional commentary. Glosses. News clippings related to mentioned events. At its best, it's like soaking in 1934, giving more context and color to the world from whence the letters come. Additionally, a fourth volume of loose ephemera includes postcards, bus tickets and other tangible goodies. All the art and presentations throughout have the kind of production values one would expect of the HPLHS.

At the same time there are some minuses; it's a little hard to navigate the book. In principle it's no worse than looking at end notes rather than footnotes, but when some of the 'notes' are complete 20 page short stories, it's very different in practice. Of course, there are always going to be questions about editorial choices, but I think the most egregiously gratuitous one was an idle reference to Bob Howard about fisticuffs being 'linked' to a 1930s brochure for self-defense classes. The brochure was authentic and historical, but it had no earthly connection to either man.

The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas (père)

Chosen for the work book club, but we maybe should have noticed it runs to 1000 pages. I'm reading it via a free e-book from Project Gutenberg. The translation is very readable, but it doesn't seem to have much verve. I don't know if that's the translation or the work itself. I may slowly push my way further on, but my interest has waned.

The UMBRAL Anthology of Science Fiction Poetry

UMBRAL was (I gather) a journal edited by Steve Rasnic Tem in the 70s and this anthology of poetry that appeared in it was published in 1982.

A lot of it is free verse and flutters past my glazed eyeballs without leaving much impression. One definite exception is Thomas Disch's "On Science Fiction", which seems to balance the warring feelings of "Fans are Slans" and the lack of self-confidence among science fiction fans. Fans are simultaneously better than and inferior to everybody else. A few other good ones, but that Disch poem stand out. And I guess I have good taste -- it won the Rhysling Award in 1981. Most of the poets are unknown to me, but a few (like Disch) are familiar names from science fiction.

Aha, found "On Science Fiction" reprinted here in a collection of Rhysling winners.

Some of my read-books have piled up for various reasons. Anyhoo.

Speculative Los Angeles (Akashic Books): Alas this was one I finished first and remember least about. There's a dedication to Octavia Butler and it goes downhill into mediocrity town after that.

The Best of RA Lafferty: One of the best things about the book are the varied introductions from everybody from Gaiman to Patton Oswalt to Harlan's original introduction from Dangerous Visions. But I wonder at the story selection -- it seems to favor stories where Lafferty really goes off the narrative rails. I like Lafferty when he's funny, and when he's absurd, but many of these wander too far into incoherence. I'm not sure it's either his best or his most representative. But still plenty to love. One thread that does come together well is (him being an Oklahoma writer) his way of tying the Native experience to the alien experience.

On the Road by Jack Kerouac. I seem to have read most of On the Road In the Air, which doesn't seem quite right. I don't see what the fuss is about. Sure, I get the allure of the open road, but otherwise it's kind of interchangeable medley of feckless losers getting drunk, chasing tail and committing petty crimes.

A Convenient Hatred: The HIstory of Antisemitism by Phyllis Goldstein

Not a cheerful read by any means, but interesting to see things traced from Roman times through 'Christ-killers' to the blood libel, to the Protocols to the Holocaust and later times. As much as the story is often about individuals (or mobs) who scapegoat the Jews, it's also interesting to see some of the allies who made efforts here or there to turn back the tide of hatred (seldom for long, alas)

[Soldiers restored order in Karlsruhe after civil nrest and anonymous messages called for a massacre of Jews] A "new message read, "Emperors, kings, dukes, beggards, Catholics, and Jews are all human and as such our equals." To emphasize that idea, the grand-duke of Baden showed his solidarity with the city's Jews by spending the night at the home of a prominent Jew. The gesture helped restore calm to the city."

I found both of these in the LA Time list of books about Los Angeles in the speculative literature sublist.

After Many a Summer by Aldous Huxley is a very odd work. Something like Citizen Kane smashed into The Last Coin with a chunk of mostly annoying philosophy crammed into the middle. While it skewers a certain vision of Hollywood as it may have been in the 1930s, it rides off on its own hobbyhorse quite too far to be recognizable as LA. A crass Los Angeles millionaire funds various charities and research activities, but his obsession is eternal life. I really have to wonder if Jim Blaylock is referencing this novel in The Last Coin, or if it's just a coincidence based on the longevity of carp.

Perhaps my favorite passage has a nice LA nod to a Forest Lawn-esque cemetary:

Was it possible, Jeremy asked Iiimself, that such an object existed? It was certainly not probable. The Beverly Pantheon lacked a verisimilitude, was something entirely beyond his powers to invent. The fact that the idea of it was now in his mind proved, therefore, that he must really have seen it. He shut his eyes against the landscape and recalled to his memory the details of that incredible reality. The external architecture, modelled on that of BoeckUn’s ‘Toteninsel.’ The circular vestibule. The replica of Rodin’s ‘Le Baiser,’ illuminated by con- cealed pink floodlights. With its flights of black marble stairs. The seven-story columbarium, the endless gal- leries, its tiers on tiers of slab-sealed tombs. The bronze and silver urns of the cremated, like athletic trophies. The stained-glass windows after Burne-Jones. The texts in- scribed on marble scrolls. The Perpetual Wuriitzer crooning on every floor. The sculpture . . . That was the hardest to believe, Jeremy reflected, be- hind closed eyelids. Sculpture almost as ubiquitous as the Wurlitrer. Statues wherever you turned your eyes. Hundreds of them, bought wholesale, one would guess, from some monumental masonry concern at Carrara or Pietrasanta. All nudes, all female, all exuberandy nubile. The sort of statues one would expect to see in the re- ception-room of a high-class brothel m Rio de Janeiro. ...
Statues of young ladies crouching ; young ladies using both hands to be modest; young ladies stretching, wnthing, calli- pygously stooping to tie their sandals, reclining. Young ladies with doves, with panthers, with other young ladies, ■with upturned eyes expressive of the soul’s awakening. ‘I am the Resurrection and the Life,’ proclaimed the scrolls. ‘ The Lord is my shepherd ; therefore shall I want nothing.’ Nothing, not even Wurhtzer, nor even girls in tightly buckled belts. ‘Death is swallowed up in viaory’ — the ■victory no longer of the spirit but of the body, the well-fed body, for ever youthful, immortally athletic, indefatigably sexy. The Moslem paradise had had copulations six centuries long. In this new Christian heaven, progress, no doubt, would have stepped up the period to a millennium and added the joys of everlasting tennis, eternal golf and swimming.

But on the whole not a winner.

Greener than you Think (1947) by Ward Moore turned out to be a delightful discovery. A much broader parody than After Many a Summer, it's a disaster story of a scientist who invents a tonic to make lawns grow. And does it ever. One lady buys the first batch and from one lawn springs an earth devouring monster of green. Not a lot of detail about Los Angeles, but a few namechecks that help Angelenos mark the spread of the grass:

The southernmost runners crept down toward Hollywood Boulevard where every effort was being marshaled to combat them, and the northernmost wandered around and seemingly lost themselves in the desert of sagebrush and greasewood about Hollywood Bowl. Traffic through Cahuenga Pass, the great artery between Los Angeles and its tributary valley, was threatened with disruption.

Oodles of casual sexism and racism, although often with a wry touch than seems to point the finger more at the haters:

Nationalists hinted darkly that the whole thing was the result of a plot by the Elders of Zion and that Kaplan's Delicatessen—in conspiracy with A Cohen, Notions—was at the bottom of the grass.

Our protagonist wears many hats in this somewhat overlong story, but spends much of it as a journalist covering the spread, who is ordered out by an editor that would make J Jonah Jameson happy with his level of smack-talk:

The Intelligencer picked you out of a gutter, a nauseous, dungspattered and thoroughly fitting gutter, and pays you well, mark that, you feebleminded counterfeit of a confidenceman, pays you well, not for your futile, lecherous pawings at the chastity of the English language, but out of the boundless generosity which only a newspaper with a great soul can have. Get down to whatever smokefilled and tastelessly decorated room that committee is meeting in and do not leave while it is in session, neither to eat, sleep, nor move those bowels whose possession I gravely doubt.

And one final epitaph for LA, courtesy of Time magazine:

Time, reporting the progress of the weed, said in part: "Death, as it must to all, came last week to cult-harboring, movie-producing Los Angeles. The metropolis of the southwest (pop. 3,012,910) died gracelessly, undignifiedly, as its blood oozed slowly away. A shell remained: downtown district, suburbs, beaches, sprawling South and East sides, but the spirit, heart, brain, lungs and liver were gone; swallowed up, Jonah-wise by the advance of the terrifying Bermuda grass

Like I said, a bit overlong, but pleasantly zany.

Turtles all the way down is a young adultish novel that I picked up at the Enigma book swap a while back.

Part young romance, part teen buddies mystery solving, our main character is also distinguished by obtrusive thoughts and other OCD symptoms that get in the way of her life. Apparently the author (probably best known for The Fault in Our Stars) also suffers from OCD, so the descriptive elements ring true to life and are fairly terrifying. I wonder whether people with OCD would be helped by reading a sympathetic treatment or harmed by echoing their own difficulties in a feedback loop.
Well-drawn characters and interaction, but even if the mystery was not really the reason for the book (the real treasure was the friends we made along the way!) the resolution of the mystery was pretty lackluster.

A curious volume from Tartarus Press

Supernatural-tinged stories of vanished or never-was Europe. Really nails the fin de siecle or post-Great War feel with prose poem dreaminess. But they may take the nihilistic pose a shade too far in that many of the stories ultimately seem to be more nothing than something. I think my faves were The Fencing Mask and Lost Gonfalon.

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Journal of No. 118

Recent Entries

Long Beach

Catching up on books

MAGA infighting, in re skilled worker visas

A Delicate Truth, Never, Playing with Reality, Winter of the Gods

'Spanish Dracula' with new score; Cole's

essentialSALTes almost in the news

November 2024 election - California and LA County propositions...

Behold the Ape, Is Math Real?

Book Backlog

UK Cruise 2024

Plastic / The Storm is Upon Us (QAnon)

New Mexico Road Trip

The Tailor of Panama, The Tainted Cup, Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

I've Been Thinking / Ninth House / A House Called Awful End

LA Times story on CA family moving to Iowa

Catching up on books

Speculative LA, RA Lafferty, On the Road, Antisemitism

After Many a Summer (Dies the Swan) - Greener Than You Think

Turtles All the Way Down by John Green

Inner Europe by John Howard and Mark Valentine