Monday, January 17, 2011
Kindling a Love for Hornets and Dragons
Oh--major spoiler alert here, so if haven't read the first two "Millennium" books, don't read this.
Anyway, here are my thoughts as I start the third book of the series, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest.
1. This is clearly not the third book. It's an extension of the second book, which ended on a major cliffhanger. C'mon--you just blasted a hole in the skull of our heroine, Lisbeth Salandar, and you claim that the book is actually finished? That was merely the end of the second act. But if you combine the two books, that's a whopping 1100+ pages, so I guess they had to break it up somewhere.
2. Now that Salandar has been shot in the head, what will happen to her?
Will she forget how to do math? Certainly there have been hints--the bullet was lodged in the "math" center of her brain. And when the doctor asked her to count to ten, she almost left out the number 3.
Will she break down and actually tell the truth to the authorities, or is she going to refuse to talk the way she has in the past?
Will she become a nice person? I've seen this in a House episode. Some nice guy actually had a change of attitude and became a jerk when some medically strange thing happened to him. Will this happen to Salandar? Will she start to share her feelings with people? I can almost see her sneer with disgust at the thought of "feelings." Is that going to change?
3. The "blonde giant" named Niedermann is now one of my favorite villains in any book I've read in the past 30 years, probably second to Lord Voldermort. This guy is really really bad! And really really twisted! Psychotic! Scary! And kind of dumb! I look forward to every scene he's in, although with a little trepidation. Is he going to tear someone's head off this time? I know he's not the villain-di-tutti-villains in the Millennium series--that distinction clearly goes to Alexander Zalachenko. But still he is a wonderful villain to fear.
4. Book two, The Girl Who Played with Fire, had many Empire Strikes Back moments. 'Nuff said on that.
So. I'm reading these books on my son Santino's Kindle--his Christmas gift. I read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo fairly quickly and immediately downloaded the second book. Then, while I was smack dab in the middle of the second book, Santino actually wanted his Kindle back to read Everlost by Neal Shusterman (my current favorite author). How dare he! I had to distract myself for a few hours while I waited for him to fall asleep so I could reclaim the Kindle.
Luckily, when I finished the second book, I was able to download the third book immediately because of that Kindle, and I could continue where I left off. This book series was made for e-readers--instant gratification. Right now, I'm 10% of the way through the book. Kindles don't list pages, they list "locations" and percentages. It's a little weird at first, but after awhile you get to know that a book with a location number of 10,000 is about 500 pages long. The Hornet's Nest book has a location of about 12,000. So I'll be in it for awhile.
Santino is at a friend's house now, so I've gotta go while I have claim to the Kindle. Now let's see what happens next to Lisbeth Salandar!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Contronyms: Why I'm Glad I'm a Native English Speaker
You are sleeping. The alarm goes off. You reach over and push the button to turn the alarm off.
Why is this sentence so confusing? It's because the word "off" is a contronym--a multiple-meaning word whose meanings are antonyms. In this sentence, the word off means at first to turn on (the uncommon meaning), and then secondly to turn off (the more common meaning). Who can stand being that kind of confused so early in the morning?
I stumbled upon contronyms accidentally when reading the wall post of one of my friends on Facebook. It said, "Antonym slang is just confusing." She was quoting her teenage son. Having no clue what antonym slang is, I googled around and found a listing for contronyms--words are their own antonyms.
For example, the word clip can mean detach and also fasten.
She clipped coupons out of the newspaper. Then she clipped them together with a paper clip.
dust: to add fine particles; to remove fine particles
He dusted the cake with a fine coat of chocolate powder. Then he dusted the powder off the kitchen counter.
sanction: approval, punishment
The school sanctions the sale of condoms in restrooms.
Good luck on this one, and please choose the correct definition.
Certainly, many of these contronyms are part of idiomatic expressions. The word strike means to hit, but it also means to miss when you use the baseball term strike out. When put together with the word out, the meaning of the word strike changes. In some ways when the contronym is part of an idiomatic expression, it's even more confusing. Imagine trying to learn English and coming to this sentence:
We tried to convince him to go to the party, but we struck out.
You look up the word struck, which is tricky itself because it's an irregular verb. Then you find it means to hit. The word out means away from. So struck out means hit away from. Poor guy--his friends want him to go to the party so badly that they're willing to hit him. Lucky for him, they missed. Hmmm....I bet all those ballplayers who strike out wish they they were hitting that ball away from home plate.
There are zillions (and I'm not exaggerating--that's at least 14) of reasons why I'm happy to be a native English speaker--contronyms is just one of them. It's the bomb.
Friday, July 16, 2010
The Greatest Generation of Hoarding
Using that little fridge made me realize--what the heck was I storing in the big one anyway? When I cleaned out the old fridge full of rotting food, I found three jars of salsa (all different), four jars of mustard (again, all different), and five bottles of salad dressing (don't ask). What was I doing with all that stuff?
Every jar and bottle had its unique occasion. Believe me, I used all of those jars of mustard--some for hot dogs, some for cooking, some for sandwiches. They all had their place. But in retrospect, my desire to have everything available at all times seems a little nutty.
I noticed another shopping pattern when I discovered a full container of sour cream, and another container only one quarter full. See, I don't buy sour cream when I've run out of sour cream. I buy it when I'm about to run out. If you see duplicate containers of food in my fridge, I guarantee you that one will be unopened, and the other will be about a quarter full. I never ever ever run out of sour cream. Or cottage cheese. Eggs. Butter. You name it.
I know where I picked up this habit--from my parents. Survivors of the Great Depression, they are part of what Tom Brokaw calls "The Greatest Generation." I suppose if there's anything you learn from the Depression, it's how to hoard food. My parents' garage was crammed full of canned food, teetering on rickety shelves. Green beans, olives, tomatoes, peaches, pears, creamed corn--it was like walking down aisle 7 at Ralphs. When my mom was in the kitchen, she would ask me with complete confidence, "Honey, could you please get a can of peas from the garage?" My mom and dad always knew the exact contents of the inventory.
Even though I grew up in the relative financial comfort of the sixties and seventies, I adopted the hoarding habit. I stuff my fridge and my pantry full of duplicates in preparation for that moment when I run out of Tillamook cheese, Worchestershire sauce, or bamboo shoots.
Well, you never know the scope of your crazy until you have to clean it out of a stinky, rotting fridge.
This week, a Ukrainian man named Yuri fixed my old enormous fridge. Now as I'm repopulating my fridge, I'm a little more careful. I actually let myself run out of yogurt before I bought another pint. I feel more efficient, more green, and more in the moment.
Yes, they were a great generation. They worked tirelessly because it was the right thing to do, and with limited promise of reward. They toiled in the present so that we would all have a bright future. And they hoarded in the present for that moment in the future when they would need a can of tomatoes for their spaghetti sauce.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
I Pledge My Allegiance
Now we are in the midst of the FIFA World Cup. Americans are famous for their ignorance of the world's favorite sport, even to the extent that we have a different name for it. Nevertheless, like many big sporting events, I am following.
With international events, I tend to root for (1) the Americans, (2) the Italians (I do have a red passport in addition to my blue one), and (3) the underdogs. With soccer, it isn't hard to root for the Italians since they win the World Cup every few years. Sometimes I'm embarrassed by their theatrics, but then again, we wouldn't be Italians if we didn't go over the top.
This year, the Americans and Italians were eliminated early. I was disappointed for the Americans, mostly because this means that American interest in the World Cup is going to drop significantly now. But also, I was surprised by the Italians. What happened to those guys? They won last time. I can only conclude that in their cockiness, they forgot how to to play soccer.
Anyway, now as we push through each round of the tournament, I am forced to change my allegiances frequently, especially since the teams I'm rooting for keep losing.
My first rule is to root for the Europeans, unless they are the Germans. One look at my red passport shows over a dozen languages for the European Union--it's not hard to pick one. I just can't bring myself to back the Germans, though. They are the absolute opposite of Italians. No emotion, just cold, hard precision. I'm especially troubled when I look at the German team, which plays with technical perfection. They look like little soccer machines. Whatever they decide to do, those Germans are very good at it.
I tend to root against the South Americans, because they are the most successful winners of the World Cup over time. Here I invoke rule #3--root for the underdogs, and root against the favorites. But if it's a South American country against the Germans--I'll go with South America. And if two South American countries play each other--I'll root for the better team, more likely to beat the Germans.
If an Asian or African country is playing, I cross my fingers for those guys (unless they're playing Americans or Italians). So--Uraguay vs. South Korea? I rooted for South Korea (they lost). Japan vs. Paraguay? I rooted for Japan, and of course they lost.
In the quarter finals, three of the matches are a European team vs. a South American team. Whereas previously I had rooted against Ghana, now I am rooting for them--to beat the Uruguay team and also keep an African team in the tournament.
Confused yet? I am. Every day my allegiances change as the teams I root for get eliminated from the World Cup tournament. I can't take my likes and dislikes too seriously. However, I worry that the final game will be Brazil vs. Germany. Brazil is the absolute opposite of underdog, and Germany is, well, it's Germany. I suppose I should add a fourth rule to my allegiance policy--anyone but Germany.
Maybe I should pick my teams next time by the color of the flag. Does anyone have purple?
Monday, June 21, 2010
Bobby Bacala, Save Some for Me
I totally understand Bobby Bacala.
Thank you, Marjorie, for the freezer--like a super hero, you always come through with exactly what I need. My mom is still around, living in Rebecca's fridge. The month of June is kind of tough, so I'm grateful that you have helped me hang on to her a little longer.
Monday, June 14, 2010
What Big Teeth You Have
Oooouuuuuccccchhhh.
Let's be honest; it's not a toothache. It's an explosion of pain on a regional scale.
The "toothache" started Wednesday night. You'd think I'd head to the dentist on Thursday. No, that would have been much too smart. I had other plans. Thursday we drove to Santa Cruz to move Rebecca out of her dorm, and Friday we drove home. Then came the weekend. I called the dentist today (Monday), who can't see me until tomorrow. So we're talking about 5+ days with my friend the toothache.
Sometimes the pain is pretty mild; just a sensation that makes my tongue want to explore the area and see what's going on. Hmm, if I poke my tongue on this tooth, will it hurt? How about if I touch the gum over in the corner? Will that hurt? Yup, sure does! Other times It's a more serious ache. And then throughout the day, there are moments of excruciating pain. The sensation spreads to the whole right side of my mouth, then up the side of my face and into my right ear. Those are the moments when all I can think about is the Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. And the desire for the pain to stop.
Actually, it's all pretty interesting. It makes me think about people who live in chronic pain. How do they ever feel cheerful? How do they function, be productive, enjoy life?
Man, I am such a wimp. I sit grumpily on the couch and feel sorry for myself. I growl at anyone who talks to me. I rub my gums with my finger. I swallow some Advil and wait for the pain to ebb. And eventually, it does.
So how are you feeling?
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
In Search of . . .
Arizona passed a law recently regarding illegal immigrants. Now I'm perfectly clear about how I feel about the law--I think it's a bad law. I think when we base our actions on hatred and fear, we're going to make some very bad decisions. Research has shown that undocumented workers actually contribute as much or more to the communities in which they live as compared to the resources they use. So what am I confused about? Boycotting Arizona (is that anything like Raising Arizona?). On the one hand, I think I get it. Let's cut off our financial and other dealings with the state of Arizona as a way of protesting this asinine, hateful law. Would a boycott be effective? Is there a better way to protest the law? Let's bring this question to a place near and dear to my heart: Dodger Stadium. The Arizona Diamondbacks are playing at Dodger Stadium this week. There were protesters at the stadium. So are the protesters expecting that the Dodgers would refuse to play the Diamondbacks? I'm thinking, that doesn't make sense. But I don't know how to articulate my thoughts in a coherent way.
Okay, here's a more complex issue, and one that I am woefully ignorant about. A flotilla (is that the right word?) of boats with humanitarian aid approached a blockade set up by Israel, to try to get aid to Palestinians in the West Bank. Israeli soldiers boarded the boats and there were violent altercations. The two sides tell pretty different stories about what exactly happened. The world of public opinion is really pissed at Israel. I see smart and educated friends on Facebook talk about how horrible Israel's actions were. But then, I've also heard a spokesperson from Israel discuss the situation. He said that the blockade is set up to prevent weapons from getting to terrorists. He said that Israel told the group trying to deliver aid that they COULD deliver the aid, but not by breaking through the blockade but by working with the Israelis. And you know what, I believe him. Maybe I'm being naive, but it makes sense to me that they would allow the aid, as long as they controlled what and how the aid was brought into their country. And I do think Israel has a right to protect itself. I think the protesters chose, in an act of civil disobedience. to try to break through the blockade to show that they believed that the blockade was wrong. I think that they had a right to perform this act of civil disobedience. But I also think that their protest and resulting PR was more important to them than actually getting the humanitarian aid to the people in need. That's their right, but it does mean that Israel isn't as big of a monster as so many seem to be saying.
But then, I really only have the most surface understanding of what's going on in the region. So I am confused, and don't feel that I know enough to even have an opinion. It's like, I want someone who is VERY knowledgeable and not emotionally involved or biased in any way to explain the situation to me, with all of the history, current events, and nuances. Oh my God, I know what I need. I need someone logical. Someone brilliant. Someone who can help me grasp the complexities. I need you Spock!