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 Dawn of Modern Science, by Thomas Goldstein (1980)

This is a bad book written by a bad person. I should have yeeted it after the introduction, where he starts by talking about how he had always mistrusted science. "To my essentially romantic soul science seemed the great destroyer, Siva, the unfeeling foe of scenic beauty and poetic simplicity" and ends by thanking "a long line of charming young ladies" who typed up his manuscript pages.

Ostensibly a history of the origins of modern science, this book rarely manages to discuss science of any sort. It faffs around with art and architecture of the Renaissance and occasionally waves at something science related if you squint hard. Some few nuggets of information appear to fall into the book by accident, such as that da Vinci's notebooks contain some noodling "The Sun does not move" that indicate thoughts about a heliocentric universe a few decades before De Rev. To polish things off, the author takes an interesting swipe at the hardheaded rational scientists of yore:

"modern science has come around to accept some curious phenomena [that would have been laughed at by older scientists] but Medieval mystics might have accommodated without any difficulty at all: the manifestations of extrasensory perception, ... perhaps even the collective unconsciousness of Jung"

The Human Division by John Scalzi

The fifth book in the Old Man's War series, which recently won a Best Series Hugo. This was my first foray into the series, and it stands up well on its own without any prior knowledge. It shows some evidence of its origins having been serialized in a baker's dozen of pieces before being fully stitched together into a novel, but that doesn't detract. Or maybe one drawback -- one episode reads as very joke-y and the tone is off from the rest of the narrative. Given the general milieu of diplomatic shenanigans amongst Terrans, Offworld Terrans, and various alien factions, that one episode comes off as a regrettable Keith Laumer Retief story, while the rest is like some very good Retief, with additional space opera goodness. I liked it.

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

A strange Hunger Games of necromancers in a futuristic-ish fantasy setting. I liked it but didn't love it. It starts off with too many characters, but this at least is rectified by them getting killed off mysteriously and magically. The central antagonism between our protagonist and her partner (and just about everyone else, really) is good for random bitchy talk, but doesn't earn the payoff the book wants.
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 14 by Peter Clines

Terrifying story of finding an apartment in Los Angeles. (We've all been there.) But this one is more unusual, at times straining credulity, but still a rollicking violent mishmash of weird science, urban exploration, and extradimensional beings and the human(oid)s who love them.

I Sing the Body Electric! (short story collection by Ray Bradbury)

For whatever reason, Bradbury seldom (but not never) connects with me. This collection was no exception. Some of the more successful ones for me are stories about stories, or storytellers, even if they don't make much sense. "The Kilimanjaro Device" and "Any Friend of Nicholas Nickleby's Is a Friend of Mine". A few stories have some captivating magic to them. Some other stories rely heavily on stereotypes of Irishmen and homosexuals; not particularly nasty, but they don't play well today.

Dungeon Crawler Carl by Matt Dinniman

A fast and amusing read. I enjoyed it a lot, but don't feel a need to go to the next level, as it were. It relies a bit too much on Clarke's Law that "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."
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 Project Hail Mary, by Andy Weir

Very enjoyable story. I can certainly see similarities to the Martian. Using science to solve problems. This one plays a lot looser with what's realistic, and it starts to rankle a little as it tries to position itself as hard sf while introducing various elements of bolognium. I think the largest nit that I pick is the idea that the alien race could have developed the same space propulsion idea without understanding relativity. A key part of the fuel is that it kinda directly converts mass into light using the whole E = mc squared thingy.

A Most Wanted Man, by John Le Carre

Kind of an odd story, and sadly somewhat based on a true story of some bullshit that would spoil the book if I went on too much. As usual, some complex characters dealing with complex situations. The titular character, although not quite a cipher, is unconventional and more of a McGuffin, and I'm not sure it works that well.

The King in the Golden Mask, by Marcel Schwob

Indebted to Jason for this one. A book of short stories from the late 19th century. Very iconoclastic. A hint of À rebours or Wilde or Clark Ashton Smith, but in some ways too uncontrolled to be enjoyable. Too determined to defy expectation. The title story is the most successful as a complete tale, with maybe more of a Poe influence. Mostly thought provoking, but not quite satisfying.
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 The Art Thief by Michael Finkel.

True life story of a serial art thief (abetted by his girlfriend) who brazenly lifted things from museums throughout Europe. His motive... to have the objects in his home to appreciate them aesthetically. Ultimately he stole hundreds of items from more than a hundred museums. But the law eventually caught up to him. Unfortunately, his mother (whose must have been somewhat complicit in the whole affair)... augh I can't even write it. No spoilers.

The Golem and the Jinni by Helene Wecker

A satisfying story about a djinn and a golem thrown together in the 19th century melting pot of New York City. Together, they fight crime -- okay, not exactly, but they thwart a magician in his wicked quest for eternal ilfe. One key plot detail requires a really out of character decision, but overall I liked the book and its evocation of a place and time.

Adventure Vol. 1 edited by Chris Roberson

Anthology of pulpy tales of manly manliness. A few get a bit too into unconscious parody. I haven't quite got to the end of it, but standouts include "Eel Pie Stall" by Paul Di Filippo and "Richard Riddle, Boy Detective..." by Kim Newman.

Domestic Manners of the Americans, by Frances Milton Trollope

Based on her lengthy late 1820s sojourn in the United States, Trollope points out everything that's wrong with Americans. Some of the saucier (and/or annoyingly aristocratic) bits from my Kindle notes

I hardly know any annoyance so deeply repugnant to English feelings, as the incessant, remorseless spitting of Americans. I feel that I owe my readers an apology for the repeated use of this, and several other odious words; but I cannot avoid them, without suffering the fidelity of description to escape me.

The total want of all the usual courtesies of the table, the voracious rapidity with which the viands were seized and devoured, the strange uncouth phrases and pronunciation; the loathsome spitting, from the contamination of which it was absolutely impossible to protect our dresses; the frightful manner of feeding with their knives, till the whole blade seemed to enter into the mouth; and the still more frightful manner of cleaning the teeth afterwards with a pocket knife, soon forced us to feel that we were not surrounded by the generals, colonels, and majors of the old world; and that the dinner hour was to be any thing rather than an hour of enjoyment.

Whatever their moral characteristics may be, these Kentuckians are a very noble-looking race of men; their average height considerably exceeds that of Europeans, and their countenances, excepting when disfigured by red hair, which is not unfrequent, extremely handsome.

The total want of all the usual courtesies of the table, the voracious rapidity with which the viands were seized and devoured, the strange uncouth phrases and pronunciation; the loathsome spitting, from the contamination of which it was absolutely impossible to protect our dresses; the frightful manner of feeding with their knives, till the whole blade seemed to enter into the mouth; and the still more frightful manner of cleaning the teeth afterwards with a pocket knife, soon forced us to feel that we were not surrounded by the generals, colonels, and majors of the old world; and that the dinner hour was to be any thing rather than an hour of enjoyment.

in America that polish which removes the coarser and rougher parts of our nature is unknown and undreamed of.

Where the mansion is of sufficient dignity to have two drawing-rooms, the piano, the little ladies, and the slender gentlemen are left to themselves, and on such occasions the sound of laughter is often heard to issue from among them. But the fate of the more dignified personages, who are left in the other room, is extremely dismal. The gentlemen spit, talk of elections and the price of produce, and spit again. The ladies look at each other’s dresses

Many waggon-loads of enormous water-melons were brought to market every day, and I was sure to see groups of men, women, and children seated on the pavement round the spot where they were sold, sucking in prodigious quantities of this water-fruit. Their manner of devouring them is extremely unpleasant; the huge fruit is cut into half a dozen sections, of about a foot long, and then, dripping as it is with water, applied to the mouth, from either side of which pour copious streams of the fluid, while, ever and anon, a mouthful of the hard black seeds are shot out in all directions, to the great annoyance of all within reach. 

The whole people appear to be divided into an almost endless variety of religious factions, and I was told, that to be well received in society, it was necessary to declare yourself as belonging to some one of these. Let your acknowledged belief be what it may, you are said to be not a Christian, unless you attach yourself to a particular congregation. But should the federal government dare to propose building a church, and endowing it, in some village that has never heard “the bringing home of bell and burial,” it is perfectly certain that not only the sovereign state where such an abomination was proposed, would rush into the Congress to resent the odious interference, but that all the other states would join the clamour, and such an intermeddling administration would run great risk of impeachment and degradation.


This is the only feature in American society that I recognise as indicative of the equality they profess. Any man’s son may become the equal of any other man’s son, and the consciousness of this is certainly a spur to exertion; on the other hand, it is also a spur to that coarse familiarity, untempered by any shadow of respect, which is assumed by the grossest and the lowest in their intercourse with the highest and most refined. This is a positive evil, and, I think, more than balances its advantages.

“let us pray,” they all fell on their knees; but this posture was soon changed for others that permitted greater scope for the convulsive movements of their limbs; and they were soon all lying on the ground in an indescribable confusion of heads and legs. They threw about their limbs with such incessant and violent motions, that I was every instant expecting some serious accident to occur. But how am I to describe the sounds that proceeded from this strange mass of human beings? I know no words which can convey an idea of it. Hysterical sobbings, convulsive groans, shrieks and screams the most appalling, burst forth on all sides. I felt sick with horror. As if their hoarse and over strained voices failed to make noise enough, they soon began to clap their hands violently. The scene described by Dante was before me:

I am very far from intending to advocate the system of slavery; I conceive it to be essentially wrong; but so far as my observation has extended, I think its influence is far less injurious to the manners and morals of the people than the fallacious ideas of equality, which are so fondly cherished by the working classes of the white population in America. That these ideas are fallacious, is obvious, for in point of fact the man possessed of dollars does command the services of the man possessed of no dollars; but these services are given grudgingly, and of necessity, with no appearance of cheerful goodwill on the one side, or of kindly interest on the other. I never failed to mark the difference on entering a slave state. I was immediately comfortable, and at my ease, and felt that the intercourse between me and those who served me, was profitable to both parties and painful to neither.

I remarked that it was not very unusual at Washington for a lady to take the arm of a gentleman, who was neither her husband, her father, nor her brother. This remarkable relaxation of American decorum has been probably introduced by the foreign legations.

I speak solely of the very singular effect of seeing man after man start eagerly to his feet, to declare that the greatest injury, the basest injustice, the most obnoxious tyranny that could be practised against the state of which he was a member, would be a vote of a few million dollars for the purpose of making their roads or canals; or for drainage; or, in short, for any purpose of improvement whatsoever.

I went to the Chesnut Street Theatre to see Mr. Booth, formerly of Drury Lane, in the character of Lear, and a Mrs. Duff in Cordelia; but I have seen too many Lears and Cordelias to be easily pleased; I thought the whole performance very bad. nor was there more decorum of demeanour than I had observed elsewhere; I saw one man in the lower tier of boxes deliberately take off his coat that he might enjoy the refreshing coolness of shirt sleeves; all the gentlemen wore their hats, and the spitting was unceasing.

There is a strong feeling against the Irish in every part of the Union, but they will do twice as much work as a negro, and therefore they are employed. 

most moral people upon earth.” Again and again I have heard this asserted, not only in conversation, and by their writings, but even from the pulpit. Such broad assumption of superior virtue demands examination, and after four years of attentive and earnest observation and enquiry, my honest conviction is, that the standard of moral character in the United States is very greatly lower than in Europe.

At sixteen, often much earlier, education ends, and money-making begins; the idea that more learning is necessary than can be acquired by that time, is generally ridiculed as obsolete monkish bigotry;

Other nations have been called thin-skinned, but the citizens of the Union have, apparently, no skins at all;

So deep is the conviction of this singular people that they cannot be seen without being admired, that they will not admit the possibility that anyone should honestly and sincerely find aught to disapprove in them, or their country.

A single word indicative of doubt, that any thing, or every thing, in that country is not the very best in the world, produces an effect which must be seen and felt to be understood. If the citizens of the United States were indeed the devoted patriots they call themselves, they would surely not thus encrust themselves in the hard, dry, stubborn persuasion, that they are the first and best of the human race, that nothing is to be learnt, but what they are able to teach, and that nothing is worth having, which they do not possess.

The Genesee fall is renowned as being the last and fatal leap of the adventurous madman, Sam Patch; he had leaped it once before, and rose to the surface of the river in perfect safety, but the last time he was seen to falter as he took the leap, and was never heard of more. It seems that he had some misgivings of his fate, for a pet bear, which he had always taken with him on his former break-neck adventures, and which had constantly leaped after him without injury, he on this occasion left behind, in the care of a friend, to whom he bequeathed him “in case of his not returning.” We saw the bear, which is kept at the principal hotel; he is a noble creature, and more completely tame than I ever saw any animal of the species.
essentialsaltes: (essentialsaltes)
 
I feel I'm forgetting some books I've finished, but here's what I got in memory.

Shadows of Carcosa

A very solid anthology of very weird tales from Poe and Bierce through to Machen, Blackwood and Lovecraft. I confess I could not make my way through the ponderous prose of Henry James "The Jolly Corner".

Hollywood, by Gore Vidal

Despite the name, the book centers quite a bit more on Washington DC in the halls of power from the mid 19-teens to 20s. A large cast of memorable characters, both historic and fictional, going about their political infighting and founding a movie industry. I didn't realize it is part of a larger 'Narratives of Empire' series by Vidal, but it stands alone well, if not having a very conclusive conclusion. Vidal's depiction of Hearst (and some of the book's themes) ring familiar these days. Fortunately, Hearst doesn't appear all that much. All in all, enjoyable.

The Chief's mind was a wondrous kaleidoscope, unshielded by any sort of consciousness. Like a child, whatever suddenly bubbled up in his brain, he said. There was no screening process...

Like so many inventors of the news, Hearst himself was capable of believing anything.



Pines, by Blake Crouch

FBI agent wakes up in a strange town. Shenanigans are afoot. Crouch pulls the rug out from under the reader about eight times, and it starts to wear on you, but it's action-y enough that it moves along quickly.
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 Polostan by Neal Stephenson.

Why did I do it? Well, I know. I was in a bookstore on our New England tour and there was a signed copy that became a trip souvenir. But knowing this is the first in a trilogy gave me little hope of a satisfying ending. Our protagonist rather chaotically and implausibly gets shuttled back and forth between the US and the USSR in early 20th. But she's engaging enough as she flits through some early nuclear science, the Chicago World's Fair, a life of crime, torture, polo and flirtation with Patton. Amusing, but I don't think I'll move on to book #2, although the Baroque trilogy ultimately sucked me in.

We Are Legion, We Are Bob

Bob had his brain frozen on death, and wakes up to find himself the in silico version of himself, encased in a spaceship. Hilarity ensues. Once you've gone digital, you can copy yourself at will, so pretty soon there are more Bobs in more ships, a la a Von Neumann probe. His various selves start to go on different adventures at different stars, and there's a good variety of different plotlines, but all light in tone. Here, too, nothing is resolved, and numerous sequels await. Likewise enjoyable and amusing, but not sure I need to move on to book #2.
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 A Madman Dreams of Turing Machines by Janna Levin - A fictional look at the lives of Kurt Gödel and Alan Turing (with a guest starring role from Wittgenstein). It sticks fairly close to real history (with remarkable faithfulness to material from letters and recorded events), but obviously it's the psychology that's of interest. The book plays with some interesting ideas, but (not that I'm any great scholar of either of them) the picture presented doesn't feel accurate. But there is some artistic flair in the idea that Turing favored the idea that thought could be mechanized and Gödel revolted from that idea to the extent of starving himself to death -- to avoid following his programming with the force of will.

September House, by Carissa Orlando. A slight twist on the haunted house genre. A woman loves the house so much, she's willing to stay and put up with the ghosts. From the concept, I imagined it was going to take a light touch, but it was anything but. There is a brain-crawling simile between 'not upsetting the ghosts' and 'tiptoeing around the house so daddy doesn't hit me'. A lot of thrilling action in the last act, even if the book works a little hard to achieve the ending it wants. Despite that, still a winner.

Dust Tracks on a Road, by Zora Neale Hurston. Her 1942 autobiography, tracing her life from childhood to adulthood. I can't think that I've ever read any of her fiction, but the possibility has risen dramatically. She grew up in Eatonville, Florida, one of the first all-black communities in the US. And wound up studying anthropology under Franz Boas at Columbia. Trained in ethnography, she studied the folklore and songs of people in the South and Caribbean, and I think that soaking in story-telling makes her a storyteller in her own autobiography. A great ear for dialogue and dialect, even if some of the latter may be hard to decipher 100 years on. Lots of great observations of culture, both 'black' and 'white', in the early 20th. The one sour note (particularly to a modern ear) is her general take on 'the race problem' in the US. Though interesting to read, particularly from that time period, it reminds me of some black figures today who are mega-successful and thus dismissive of the struggles minorities face. By all accounts, Hurston was smart and talented, but she didn't quite do it 'all on her own'. One of the early events in her life is being helped by two white ladies from the North who came to visit a black school and found her to be the best reader. They later sent books and clothes to her personally, setting her on a path that led to Howard, Barnard and beyond. Other white patrons were also part of her story. Not to take anything away from her accomplishments, but just that she had many opportunities others didn't.

Three Problems for Solar Pons, by August Derleth. One of the slim 1950s volumes from Arkham House (or their mystery imprint Mycroft & Moran) when the publishing house wasn't doing so well. Pastiches of Sherlock Holmes stories aren't my thing, but I do like the little crossover with Fu Manchu.
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Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman

Nonfiction look at how humans make decisions... mostly badly. Kahneman has a Nobel Prize in Economics and here he lays out a rough chronology of the work that he and others have done in his area. He posits, with pretty good evidence, that there are two systems. A fast, intuitive system that is error prone. What's that? A snake! Jump away! Oh, it was just a stick. And a slow, more logical and evidence based system. If you use the slow system on every long skinny thing in your path, you may wind up dead, so the fast approach also has value.

There's a lot of good stuff here about mistakes and biases in thinking. Some of it I'm pretty familiar with from skeptical literature, but here he puts together a lot of the key experiments that demonstrate the phenomena.

Later, it bogs down a bit for me as it moves a bit too much into economics. There are a lot of literally irrational choices people make when evaluating potential gains and losses, but I don't personally find it that interesting, although I think his explanatory theories make sense. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and maybe that's why people might prefer a 100% chance of winning $50 over a 90% chance of winning $100. 



You Dreamed of Empire Álvaro Enrigue 

A quasi not-quite historical take on the meeting between Cortez and Moctezuma and the characters around them. I appreciated some of the characters and the pre-Columbian setting, but overall I didn't find this as compelling or humorous as others seem to.
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 For better or worse, I've gotten out of the habit of writing extensive travelogues, but I haven't gotten out of the habit of putting up albums of dozens of photos.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/essentialsaltes/albums/72177720327366362/


Long Beach

May. 10th, 2025 06:04 pm
essentialsaltes: (essentialsaltes)
 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. 
essentialsaltes: (eye)
 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.
essentialsaltes: (atheist teacher)
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!
essentialsaltes: (eye)
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.
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 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.

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 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?
 
 
essentialsaltes: (Default)

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.

 


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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.
essentialsaltes: (eye)
 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.

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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.


essentialsaltes: (glycerol and oleic acid)
 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).


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