May 6th, 2009

thousand yard drink

(no subject)

I've been putting off writing about last Friday because I had my fingers crossed for pictures; they'll come I'm sure, but I don't want to be a nag, & besides, I can just put them up when I get them. That is a funny thing about diaries; at some point context degrades, because it relies so much on the veracity of the writer. You'll have to forgive me; I'm still stuck in the Gene Wolfe paradigm, & the book of his I'm reading is epistolary, with caesuras scattered here & there in it. By the way, I'm really enjoying it-- a manuscript, oh la la. I like it a lot, better than his last two, & maybe more than the most recent Latro. Oh here I am falling off topic; I need some honey bees to come dance & show me where to land, how to find the finest flowers!

Friday was Meatfest-- there was an attempt to dub it Meatfest Oh Nine, but I protested-- Meatfest Spring Oh Nine! Lets leave the door open for a seasonal repeat, of at least the impetus. We went to churrascaria! My first time. I should point out before I leave the gate: this was a double date; my wife & I along with Jocelyn & Brian. We met up here at the Flattest, Ironiest building, & then off to Queens. Brian had done the research, & though our destination didn't have "rodizo" service-- in which they bring you whatever variety of meat they feel like like until you throw a red flag of surrender-- it was close & convenient. First, however-- cocktails! I drank absinthe, the others drank what they wanted, all off us in a hidden cranny. Naked devils on the walls of the bathroom. We were in the VIP lounge, is where we were! Then to the meat-- they brought it on swords (skewers really) & there was mounds of it. Steak wrapped in bacon, chicken wrapped in savory odors, sausages, & more too. & like empenadas, for friends. Beans & yucca flour to scatter as you see fit! We ate till we couldn't eat any more, then ran about Queens till homeward bound. Then, Jenny & I got into a (drunken) fight about the new refrigerator. Oh well!
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Secret review! (45)

The Sorcerer's House by Gene Wolfe.

Its-- diplomacy.
Asking the universe, and
telling it, too.

I can't really talk about this, & no, in advance, I won't give it to you! I have professional ethics sir! I will hook you up with a galley copy when the opportunity presents itself-- I will do that. I summed up a moment in the book thus-- At this part of the book, the prisoner is trying to figure out if he got three different kinds of three different fish, because he put out the longlight before the triannulus brought him what he needed, & so accumulated numen. That is a bit of an example of how it goes, but mostly it is epistolary, between a man, his brother, his sister-in-law, a psychic, & the man's former cell mate. I can say this: I liked it better than the last few, which isn't meant as a slam to them, but rather as praise to this one. There is another sort of unsuspecting protagonist, but unlike a few of Wolfe's heroes, this one catches on quick. Strange that I've been clumping up according to themes-- I this right after another "haunted house" book of his, Peace, & I read An Evil Guest right after There Are Doors, both of which go hand in hand (if you ask me).
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