PrettyFakes

Let’s take another shot at trying to get culturfied. I’m telling myself I’m going to read a book a week—and try to regain my love of cinema at the same time. We’re going to have to shoehorn in my twin loves of comics and video games somewhere in there. These are all current as of today, and officially started January 1.

Shall we begin?

Books

01. Images of America: Vintage Birmingham Signs, Tim Hollis.
There’s certain things a person can only know about you after years of friendship, and clocking in at almost thirty-four years, my Pop nearly has the market cornered. This wonderful little volume is stuffed full of the things that I adore—not only signs from the past, but the slices of how we were that have always resonated so deeply within me. There is simply nothing like seeing photographs of the Alabama Theatre or remembering that, even in my lifetime, the Barber Milk sign rested on top of a building in Five Points South. To get this book bundled with my dad’s stories of the original Jack’s Burger or Eastwood Mall is an incalculable bonus. P.s. dad, we are going to toally find that Rickwood Caverns sign and take some Polaroids of it.

02. Actual Air, David Berman. The book peaked on the first poem, “Snow,” but man, what a poem—one of my absolute favorites, ever.

03. Three Gospels, Reynolds Price.
This loving and thoughtful translation of Mark and John—conjoined with a new apocryphal Gospel written by the author—opened my eyes anew at the wonders of the the Good Book. My point of view has been greatly redefined by reading this.

04. Prince of Frogtown, Rick Bragg.
05. Ava’s Man, Rick Bragg.
I read All Over but the Shoutin’ years ago, and it damn near broke my heart, and I loved it for it. Over the years I’d picked up his second book—about his mother’s father, in the same way that his first was about his momma—and his latest, about his father, but never read them. Finally did. Worth more than I can ever adequately write. In Prince, he tells a story about Willie Morris, and it is truer and kinder and more honest than most anything I have ever read. Lula and I went to see him talk about the Yazoo Legend the other day, just down the street, and I was jittery like going to my first concert, and I ended up surprised and delighted that I knew lots of the stories, and the rhythm of how he talked, from reading his books. This is what writing should be like, and how reading should feel.

06. I Cannot Get You Close Enough, Ellen Gilchrist.
I’m a lover of Gilchrist, in all her wonderful and depraved and caring ways, but this book is perhaps my favorite. I found myself pausing, going back a few lines, and reading them out loud, slowly, rolling the words around, chewing on them like celery or a Honeycrisp apple. And what a title.

07. The Brief History of the Dead, Kevin Brockmeier. A gift from Prof. Fury, I was excited about the premise of this book—what if the newly-dead travel to their own City of Limbo, where they are to remain until they are forgotten by the living? And what if all the living die?—but frustrated by the execution.

08. On Drink, Kingsley Amis.
What Professor Price has done for my spirit, the esteemed Mr. Amis has done for my thirst for strong drink. The recipes contained within are soaked with anecdote and advice. For instance, regarding the tequila-based version of the bloody Mary he calls La Tequila con Sangrita: “You will find it a splendid pick-me-up, and throw-me-down, and jump-on-me. Strongly disrecommended for mornings after.” This book should be immediately issued to all children upon reaching adulthood.

Video Games

01. Call of Duty: World at War (Wii).
A truly thoughtful gift from my stepbrother that perfectly encapsulates two American passions: Ninetendo and shooting Nazis. He’s a PS3 man, and was impressed by the graphics the Wii was spitting out as we crawled through the Pacific and Berlin. Between my brother-in-law, step-bro, and dad, we beat it in two days—with some assist from my sister, who went and got us a Zapper on day 2. Not sure it helped with the Wii’s difficult control scheme (i.e., hit “+” to throw a grenade; to throw a smoke grenade, turn the controller sideways and hit “+”). Twitchy, tough combat that has occasional difficulty spikes that can cause frustration, but generally rewarding.

02. Chrono Trigger (DS).
The Super Nintendo Holy Grail, with a vivid and perfect port to the DS. I have vivid memories of sitting in Big Gray’s old room in the now-defunct Duggar Hall and plowing through with Lucca and Robo and the crew. Hardcore 90’s RPG action with a time-travel twist; thank King Guardia for FAQs, or I would have been lost twice bumbling between prehistoric times and post-Lavos apocalypse. The new dungeons are Roguelike, with some tough boss battles, and I ended up losing interest halfway through the second playthrough, but it’s got a treasured place on my shelf. Thanks to my parents for buying this for their mid-thirties kid for Christmas.

03. Final Fantasy: Crystal Defenders (iPhone).
I’ve spent hundreds of hours with the various Ninentdo handheld-based Final Fantasy strategy games, and when a tower defense-style game with the same iconic characters (fighter, black mage, archer, dragoon, time mage, thief) debuted on the iPhone, I flipped. A truly deep game, and one I am apparently desperately terrible at—I’ve mastered the first wave, but none of the second, and I’m not even going to look at the third yet. I find myself draining my battery daily on this game, a relative steal at seven dollars.

Movies
01. Man On Wire (2007). Simply extraordinary; it moved me in a truly profound way and made me want to live life fuller, create more vivid art, and enjoy the blood beating through my body.

02. Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson (2008).
Made me start writing poetry again after watching this a drinking the better part of a six-pack of Sparks (it is little-known that consuming a full six-pack results in instant transendence, but no one’s ever done it). A tender portrait of a truly complex writer.

03. My Fellow Americans (1996). Never fails to make me laugh. I think Jack Lemmon and the Maverick ought to team up for every movie, and Dan Ackroyd makes a fine, Nixonian villain.

04. Burn After Reading (2008). I was surprised at Malkovich’s horrid intensity, Pitt’s terrifically terrible hairstyle, and the generally thin and meandering plot.

05. Milk (2008). There was simply not enough of this; I felt manipulated at times, like I was being jabbed in the side at a concert to cheer louder for the band. If anything, I can certainly say I am much more aware of the long struggle for gay rights, but the sometimes jumbled style of the filmmaking, plus an obvious desire to jam in as many characters as possible, left me a little cold. What you want to know is, though, was Sean Penn awesome? Yes, he might have been.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, February 10th, 2009 at 9:06 pm and is filed under Books, Gorjus, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.