Filed under: Law, Life, Random | Tags: California, idiocracy, Law, Life, Random, real estate
Things have been a little slow around here because we’re currently in the middle of a massive cross-country move. We’re leaving Southern California and moving to North Carolina. This has been a long time in coming. While we don’t regret moving to California ten years ago, we realized a few years ago that California can’t give us the life that we want. So we started taking steps to leave. Last week, one of the last pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place when we sold our house. Immediately, we were confronted with a reminder of why we’re leaving.
But first, a short (I promise.) lesson in property law. Way back in Ye Olde England, the rule used to be strict caveat emptor when it came to buying real estate. The seller didn’t have to tell the buyer anything about the property. It was the buyer’s job to find out if anything was wrong. The English imported that rule to the colonies, and up until the turn of the twentieth century, it was pretty much the rule in every state. Today, most states require the seller to disclose major problems, but California goes farther.
We had to disclose that we lived in a condo.
Really? I’d love to see the lawsuit that resulted in this particular disclosure being included. “Plaintiff began to realize something was amiss when he noticed doors to which he did not have keys. He became even more suspicious when he saw other people using these doors to enter and exit the building. These observances led Plaintiff to believe that there were large areas of the building to which he did not have access, but others did, and that in fact, he was not living in a single-family dwelling, but a condominium.” I’m sure it’s the same guy who’s responsible for the “Warning: may contain nuts” label on packages of peanuts and the “Warning: may cause drowsiness” label on sleeping pills.
Filed under: Reading | Tags: Booking Through Thursday, comic books, memes, Reading
Do you read graphic novels/comics? Why do/don’t you enjoy them? How would you describe the difference between “graphic novel” and “comic?” Is there a difference at all? Say you have a friend who’s never encountered graphic novels. Recommend some titles you consider landmark/”canonical.”
I’ve actually blogged about this before, but it was a long time ago, so I’ll do it again. I love comic books. My favorites are the Justice League and Legion of Superheroes over at DC, and the X-Men and Spiderman over at Marvel. I really like what Joss Whedon is doing with the continuation of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in comic book form, and I’m actually enjoying the continuation and expansion of the Star Wars saga into the far future with the “Legacy” series.
Here’s the tricky part, though. I can’t actually read them. I don’t know if there is a technical word for it, but when it comes to comic books, I have some kind of reading disorder. For some reason, my brain can’t process the pictures and the words at the same time in order to follow the story. When I open a comic book, I get overwhelmed by the images, and I end up just idly leafing through without reading any of the dialogue.
Webcomics are a different matter. I suppose it’s because you can only read one “page” at a time on the screen, and I can process better without the distraction of the rest of the “book,” even if I have to reread it three or four times. I’m currently following Gunnerkrigg Court, drawn and written by Brit Tom Siddell, who is an incredibly talented artist and a brilliant storyteller. You should check it out.
Meanwhile, I’ll read Wikipedia’s summaries of the other comic books I like, so I’m not completely in the dark about what’s going on. *Sigh.* I tell you, it takes real talent to fail as a comic book geek.
Filed under: Reading | Tags: Booking Through Thursday, books, memes, symbols, vampires
It does seem like modern fiction just “tells the story” without much symbolism. Is symbolism an older literary device, like excessive description, that is not used much any more? Do you think there was as much symbolism as English teachers seemed to think? What are some examples of symbolism from your reading?
I’m of two minds about this question. Sometimes, I think that the symbolism is there. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes, too, I think symbolism is misused. Back in high school, we had to read “The Turn of the Screw” by Henry James. For those of you unfamiliar with the story, it’s about a young governess who moves to a creepy country house to care for two creepy children who starts seeing ghosts. Is the house really haunted, or is she crazy? When our teacher told us that her visions were a result of her sexual repression, we all started laughing because none of us saw it (the name of the story aside). Then she started pointing out certain symbolic things about the…ahem…spiritual visitations, and it started to make sense.
That same year, we studied T.S. Eliot, and we read “The Waste Land” and “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.” Both of these poems have passages that make absolutely no sense when read literally, so they must be symbolic, right? From what I know about T.S. Eliot, though, I think he might have been jerking everyone’s chain. I can see him sitting down at his typewriter, softly chuckling to himself about generations of English literature majors struggling and failing to find any meaning to his poems and ultimately having to go on anti-psychotic medication.
I think that in modern fiction, symbolism is used less effectively because not many people are familiar with symbolic language or symbolism in general anymore. I think sometimes symbolism is misused. For example, I like vampire fiction partly because vampires are the perfect symbol for the dark impulses, emotions, and desires in all of us. They’re monsters that look just like us, and we can become them if we’re not careful. So, I’m not a fan of the current “vampires are people, too” movement made popular by a certain author in a certain series of books. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for taking symbols and subverting them to make a larger point. Several writers have done just that with vampires rather successfully, using them to explore themes such as redemption and the ennui of modern life. This author didn’t do that. She broke the symbolism.
Her main vampire protagonist has all of the strengths of a vampire, but none of the weaknesses. He has super strength and super speed. He’s immortal. And he’s really, really pretty. He can go outside during the day without being burned to a crisp. He can walk into a church. He can walk into an Italian restaurant and order the garlic shrimp. He can walk into your house without being invited first (all the better to stalk you while you sleep). He can cross running water. He doesn’t have an aversion to shiny things. (Sometimes, he’s shiny, too!) And best of all, he doesn’t make a habit of snacking on people. So basically, he’s Superman with fangs, except, you know, he doesn’t have fangs either.
So while these books were a huge commercial success, they ultimately don’t work, because she’s taken away everything that makes vampires compelling or useful as a symbol for anything. You could take the vampires out completely, and the story wouldn’t change much. Even she seems to know on some level that it doesn’t work. If you disagree, ask yourself, why, in a universe where being a vampire is so awesome that people should be lining up to take it in the jugular does it take four books for everyone to be okay with the main female protagonist becoming one?
Filed under: Graphics | Tags: BLAZONED, England, lions, Shakespeare, St. George's Cross
A design from BLAZONED.
The use of three lions as the symbol of the English monarchy dates back to King Richard I, “The Lionheart,” and echoes the coat of arms of Normandy, from which William the Conquerer launched his famous invasion.
The national flag of England is St. George’s Cross, a red cross on a white background. St. George is the patron saint of England, and his cross has been associated with England since at least the twelfth century.
The quote on the banner is from Act II, Scene 1 of Richard II by William Shakespeare. Here is the entire speech, which alludes to the fact that England has not been successfully invaded since William the Conquerer crossed the Channel:
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,–
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
I’ve decided to start up a little game for anyone who’s interested. As you may or may not know, I’m in the revision stage of my novel. I’ve already used up two red pens. I thought that it might be fun to post one interesting, odd, or intriguing sentence from the novel every day(ish) on my twitter account, as I’m trudging through. See if you can figure out what’s going on. I’ll post the first one here and on twitter. Follow me on twitter to see more and to play along. Here goes:
“He was prepared for the question, but he didn’t want to answer it just yet.”
Another design from BLAZONED:
In Western culture, ravens, because of their black feathers, rasping call, and tendency to eat carrion, have always been harbingers of doom. Yet, ravens are extremely smart. They can be taught to speak. They learn through trial-and-error. They have been observed to play and even mourn for their dead. These behaviors have also made ravens a symbol of wisdom, as evidenced by the Norse god Odin’s two ravens who fly around the world every day and tell him of everything.
Edgar Allan Poe used the raven’s reputation to his advantage in The Raven, his poem about lost love and longing.
Filed under: Random | Tags: advertising, humor, mannequins, Old Navy, Random, Twilight Zone
Always. There are no exceptions. How the marketing execs at Old Navy missed that memo is completely beyond me. Seriously. There was a Twilight Zone episode. It had Anne Francis in it and everything.
And to make matters worse, they put mannequins in the stores that look like the ones in the commercials. Really? How is that a good idea? I won’t set foot in an Old Navy until they’re removed. Shopping there is stressful enough without having to constantly look over my shoulder for fear a demonic talking mannequin is going to bludgeon me to death with its own disarticulated arm. I just don’t need that right now.
Filed under: Random | Tags: comic books, Dana Point, Green Lantern, Random, superhero

Okay so not really. This is a picture of a street sign in Dana Point, CA. If you don’t believe me, you can see the street on Google. The headland is named after Richard Henry Dana, Jr., who spent time in the area and wrote Two Years Before the Mast, a memoir of his time as a sailor in the early 1800s. Consequently, when the area was developed in the 1920s, they named the streets after the colored lanterns sailors used to signal one another.
Although the hometown of Hal Jordan, the second Green Lantern, is Coast City, which is supposedly somewhere in California.
Getting this picture has been a goal of mine for a while. The only thing that would make it more awesome would be a traffic signal with a Green Arrow.
Filed under: Reading | Tags: Booking Through Thursday, books, memes, movies, Reading
What book do you think should be made into a movie? And do you have any suggestions for the producers?
I have a list, actually. I’m a very visual thinker, so I’m always thinking about how a particular scene might be filmed. I do the same thing when I’m writing, too. I find that it’s a really good trick when I’m stuck. So here goes:
The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. I love these books. They’re such fun to read. Currently, there are nine in the series, with a tenth one coming out soon. The author, Alexander McCall Smith, spent a lot of time in Botswana, where the books are set, and his descriptions of the landscape and the people are so rich an vivid that you can just see the sun setting over the Kalahari. It’s almost as if Botswana were another character. So I was very excited to hear that HBO and the BBC actually have made a limited series out of the books. It starts airing in the U.S. on March 23.
The Historian. Obviously, I’m a sucker (no pun intended) for Gothic horror. I had to actually stop reading The Historian after dark. It creeped me out that much. I would love Elizabeth Kostova’s atmospherics to be transferred to the big screen. Supposedly, the film rights to the book have been picked up, but as often happens, things are mired in development.
The Janissary Tree. Actually, any of Jason Goodwin’s three detective novels, The Janissary Tree, The Snake Stone, and The Bellini Card would be fun movies. Goodwin does not write traditional mysteries in that his setting is 19th-century Istanbul, and his detective Yashim is, well…a eunuch. Goodwin is a historian of the Ottoman Empire, and he personally knows every square inch of Istanbul. His books are packed with beautiful descriptions of the city, and again it’s almost as if the city itself were another character. Also, none of the books lack for action as Yashim is alternately chased by and chases various suspects through the city. The one problem is that the setting may be a little too exotic for Hollywood.
The Arabesk Trilogy. This series of novels, Pashazade, Effendi, and Felaheen, by British writer Jon Courtenay Grimwood, are set in an alternate history where the United States brokered an early end to World War I. Set in a 21st century where the Ottoman Empire rules most of North Africa and France and Germany still have emperors, the novels center around genetically enhanced but mentally unstable Raf and his adventures in Alexandria, Egypt, known in the novels as El Iskandriyah. Once more, its the descriptions of the setting that make these novels stand out. The one issue, which could be a problem or an advantage, is that Grimwood is a little postmodern in his leanings, and much of the plot is told out-of-sequence.
Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell. This book is just brilliant fantasy. Susanna Clark’s conception of how magic works is inherently visual. Much of the magic in the book surrounds the use of mirrors, for example. Also, I would love to see the tall-ships made out of rain used by the British to trick the French and blockade their ports during part of the Napoleonic Wars. The problem here is the length of the book. My edition is 782 pages long. Again, here the film rights have been purchased by New Line Cinemas, but my advice is this: Under no circumstances should anyone who is not a loyal subject of Her Majesty the Queen be involved in this project. There is something so inherently British about the book that only a Brit could do it justice.
Are you listening, Hollywood?


