The Plight of Mongo

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Galaxy of Heroes

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Galaxy of Heroes Galaxy of Heroes by Gus Flory


My rating: 1 of 5 stars
I won this book from a Goodreads giveaway I entered.

Galaxy of Heroes is a great example of ample imagination, with a difficult follow through. It felt as if the author struggled to piece together a solid plot, instead I inferred an attempt at a character piece. However, the characters really did not have the depth to handle the load.

I did enjoy the world created by the authors imagination, and I feel that with a rewrite and some outside editing there is promise there. Perhaps, with the current ending, the beginnings of a series.

Best described, I would consider this book to be comparable to a Saturday feature on the SyFy channel.

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Saxamaphone

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I got a new Saxophone, beware neighbors.

Schrodinger's Cat Trilogy Schrodinger’s Cat Trilogy by Robert Anton Wilson


My rating: 3 of 5 stars
After reading the Illuminatus Trilogy, I was really anticipating this novel. Robert Anton Wilson’s high mind style of writing is enjoyable, if a bit fractured. I really had high hopes.

This book fell kind of flat however, as Mr. Wilson attempts to visualize the concept of the multiverse my creating different versions of each of his characters, many of whom first appeared in the Illuminatus. However what the author does not do is adhere to any kind of real plot, and just when you think you might have a bit of a narrative or the resemblance of a coherent story he changes the world again.

The point of the book is to show you how everything you do or do not do, is inversely done or not done in a connected universe. I believe the author is also trying to convince us that we are all Schrodinger’s cat, living in a state that is neither living or dead, up until the moment we are observed, upon observation we will either die or live.

However, I could not stop reading this book, as the vivid imagination of Wilson’s is enticing and extremely visual. Having read the Illuminatus first, I recognized the characters, and how he was attempting to show the variations based on quantum variability.

A good read overall, but not nearly the quality of his first Trilogy.

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Properly Shpongled.

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In the middle of May, MommaBear and I gathered ourselves and a few others to take in a show at the fabled Crystal Ballroom, here in Portland.  I love seeing shows at the Crystal, it is such an amazing building.  The dance floor is on springs, the massive vaulted ceilings with two of the largest chandeliers I have ever seen dangling above.  Huge windows looking out on the main vein of Metro Portland, W.Burnside, and of course, the history of music.  Stepping into the Crystal Ballroom you can feel the years of amazing music that has soaked into the old wood beams.  Try hard enough and you can almost hear the classic shows of yesteryear emanating back through history.

But now back to the present.  I wanted to go see Shpongle with MommaBear, who may or may not be referred to as Tupelo from here on out.  It’s her type of scene, and I like to experience things she enjoys with her.  Even if I am not such a big fan myself.  My expectations were kept fairly low, with the hope that they would be dis-proven.

The show was opened by part of the horn section of the March 4th Marching Band, and we walked into the Ballroom to the sounds of three saxophones, alto, tenor, and baritone.  There was also a mixer / synth that was looping beats and a DJ spinning.  As one of the horn players grabbed a guitar, the sound became a little more rock, I smiled and really thought I was going to enjoy this night.

As I have had this post in draft form, and I have three others in draft form I am going to try to wrap it up.

Mongo does not care much for DJ music.  Please learn to play an instrument, in front of people.  Preferably with other people who also can play an instrument.

Oh, but these were awesome.

Divine Moments of Truth by Shpongle live in Portland, Oregon

Horns Horns by Joe Hill

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Horns was a solid read, but I fear Joe Hill may have learned a bad trick or two from his father. Mainly, rushing to tie an ending together. Hello giant spider.

The story itself is gripping, as our hero deals with the fact that people, deep inside, are often horrible; he must also deal with the fact that he can learn to enjoy bringing out the worst in people.

Accused of a crime he didn’t commit, and was acquitted for, our devilish protagonist, Ignatius(Ig) delved into a life of slow suicide, complete with booze, bimbos, and a deep sense that everyone would rather spit on him then say hello. He wakes one morning from a blackout drunk to find two horns have sprouted from his head. The horns seem to bring out the very worst in people, mainly honesty. Whether the person wants to eat a huge box of donuts with out hands, or to rob the church they are the nun at and find a
lesbian to get with, the horns bring it about. They also give Ig a nearly sexual pleasure when others speak out or live out their honest desires.

The novel works in a fine plot of discovery and revenge, however I found that Joe Hill first over powered his character, then underpowered him for the conclusion. It fell just a bit flat at the end.

Still, I recommend it as a fun read, and I cannot wait to pick up some more Joe Hill.

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Want a free book?

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erisian over at fnord, Inc. is giving a couple books away.
I suggest you have a peak.

http://www.fnordinc.com/2010/05-03/contest-free-books-to-the-winner/

Alas port blog, I have neglected and ignored you.  The last month + has been a very trying and tiring time, and my inspiration to compose even these meager ramblings all but dried up and became one with dust.

In the time since my last true update I have been to New Jersey, flown with the child, been to Atlantic City and was told that I am too Montanan to properly cut sausage and peppers.

Oh, then I tried to die.  I know,  I know, my last post claimed that I had not died.  Well I guess that fate decided that I had just tempted it a bit to strongly.  Like putting a chocolate covered hazelnut next to a bottle of 15yr old single malt scotch, on top of a pre-release copy of Pat Rothfuss’s “The Wise Man’s Fear”.  I mean temptation.

So fate, in its drooling frenzy sent particles of poo down my GI into the Appendix and corrupt it.  Diseased is how the surgeon described it.  Tuesday the 13th I felt ill at 2am.  Went to work at 6am, left at 7:15am.  Went to the doctor at noon, was sent home at 6 or 7pm, I don’t remember, as at this point I was pretty sure I was going to die.  But the folks at radiology didn’t look at my appendix, and told me I had a mild viral infection or gas.  Fucking Gas.

Thankfully, my blood tests came back in before we made it more then 20blocks from the hospital.  My loving lady got a phone call instructing her to bring me back in immediately.  That my white blood cell count was “Through the Roof”.  In essence, my feelings about my impending mortality were not wrong at all.  I was very, very sick.

To the E.R., where they didn’t make me drink nasty iodine, or wheel me over bump after bump to leave me in a waiting room.  They got right to the fucking morphine.  All of a sudden I could see again.  And sleep.  I slept for an hour, as my ER attending Doctor looked over my case and others.  When he woke me, Dr. Trueworthy (i am not shitting you, that was his name) , again told me I had a viral infection that was causing my abdominal lymph nodes to swell.  And that, sometimes that can be very painful.  I really didn’t buy it, but he was the fucking doctor, so be it.

Prior to the Morphine, I must tell you that to my pain riddled existence, I thought the primary pain was first in my left side, then top middle of my stomach region.  Not the traditional right side of the appendix.  So in defense of the medical staff, I pointed them wrong.  However, they are the professionals, and I was in agony, and then on narcotics.  Why did they trust only me?  I was a bad reference point.  They did not scan my lower, my pelvic region.  Now that the morphine was in me, Dr. Trueworthy (god I love that name) poked and pushed on me again.  He hit the lower right quadrant and I flew out of the bed screaming.  While on a large dose of morphine.  This was agony.  Without the fine refined opiate in my system, I probably would have thrown up and passed out.  So another, properly aimed cat scan, another nap as he upped my sweet nectar of the poppy, and an hour later a bad joke delivered the news.  ”Like I said, a viral infection can cause the lymph nodes to swell, or its appendicitis.  Which it is.  The surgeon is on his way.”

Wow, here it was, nearly 8pm, eight hours of medical professionals working on one of the most common emergency medical issues, and they finally got it right.  At the time I was too relieved to be annoyed, but that came later.  Some phone calls, (Dana and Holden had gone home, thinking I was not staying the night).   She came back after leaving the little one with dear friends, the nurse, surgeon, etc. came to visit and the next thing I know i’m being rolled down the hall to have my gut cut into.

You’ll feel a little burn in the IV and then yo ………………………………………………………………………… ………………………………………………………… ………………………………………………………………………………………

When I woke I was very very groggy.  Understandably so, but alive, and in less pain.

Well more to come.  Glad to be amongst the living.

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