Infinite Jest

As promised I will write a few words on Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace. I thought about waiting to write this post until I could gather my thoughts and give a more insightful review. But then I realized that I didn’t need more time to do this, rather I would need a second (or third) reading of the novel. Clearly, this is not happening any time soon. So why not just go with what I’m thinking right now.

Photo Courtesy of grammarpolice.net

Infinite Jest is a masterful piece of work, weaving several intricately detailed stories together and not always revelaing how they relate. An elite hill-top junior tennis academy? An alcohol and drug recovery house set to mirror the addictions and intensity of the tennis academy? Secret Canadian Agents deceiving and double-deceiving to find a lethal videotape? Said videotape having the power to paralyze people with its images? How does DFW manage to intertwine these tales?

To be honest, he doesn’t always make it obvious how the stories relate. He said in an interview that almost 700 pages were cut from the original manuscript (can you believe this 1,070 page novel was line edited twice?!) and that everything that is in there now is there for a reason. Every three page description of an addict’s lust for drug is necessary; each complicated flashback filled with Boston street slang and expletives is imperative; even the eight page footnote listing each of James Incandenza’s films (written in 10-pt font) is integral to the telling of the story. These details make it so painful to imagine that someone wrote this book in only three years, at only 36 years old.

Through the verboseness and complicated weaving of stories there lies a story of great sadness. How do addiction and depression control people’s lives? Does it make a difference if the agent is freebase cocaine or competitive tennis? What are coping mechanisms for a life lived seemingly out-of-control? Infinite Jest explores what it’s like to be so utterly consumed with the blackest of depressions and the most mind-controlling addictions, be it drug- or athletics-related. For DFW to find the commonality between the two (he was involved in both tennis and drugs) is genius. In the novel both drugs and tennis are equally damaging to various characters and it was interesting to see how Foster makes frequent connections between the two.

I know this sounds lame, but overall I thought the book was outstanding. I tried to think of a better way to put it, but then I would find myself grasping for the exact wordiness and exaggerations found in the novel (by the way, those are in there for good cause. Here, they would just be annoying). I felt so challenged by this book. Some parts were terrifically painful and horrific. To imagine these things happening to people in real life breaks my heart. But Foster’s humor comes in at just the right moment to save the page and remind me how his versatility as an author is unmatched.

For me, Infinite Jest was a must-read. Thankfully I had the time to devote real attention to the novel, though I would have loved reading this book for a class to have a little more guidance and direction as well as a few comrades to discuss with. Highly, highly recommended.

Even More Tunes

Mmmyes, I have even more music for you: Angus and Julia Stone. I heard about this brother-sister duo through another blog of a total stranger. She featured their tune, “Mango Tree,” which I think is great (I originally planned on just putting a link to listen to the song, but realized I liked this particular melody very much, so I had to include it in the post). The family combo is perfect Sunday afternoon music. Maybe I am in a small minority of fine folks that listens to certain music on various days of the week. But, it just doesn’t feel right to kick around to Chromeo on a Sunday. So, I put on Angus and Julia instead. Or Beach House. Or Amos Lee. Or Ray LaMontagne. Oh yes, definitely Ray.

Moving forward, in honor of this final Sunday in March of 2011 I bestow upon you a few new tracks that hopefully find their way into your music library.

And because I couldn’t resist…

 

In additional news, as of this evening I have finished Infinite Jest. Actually, “finished” isn’t the right word, as I am nowhere near finished thinking about the most emotionally/intellectually taxing novel I have ever read. Perhaps, “completed” is more accurate. Review, or at least thoughts, to come.

 

Hog Heaven

Lately I have been having tremendous cravings for specific food/meals. I don’t know what’s come over me. Maybe it’s all the running that’s increasing my appetite in very peculiar ways. No matter the cause there are certain menu items just hollering my name.

Earlier this week I threw down on a chicken sandwich from Wendy’s before I went to to work. Slamming a #9 and trying to make significant profits afterward is perhaps not the best idea, but I tripled my sales goal for the day and I’m assuming it was the sammie that helped me reach my peak.

Today I satisfied another hankerin’ that had been singing its siren song since I came home in December: Chinese grub. There is hardly anything better than an extraordinary amount of saucy, flavorful, tremendously-bad-for-you, Chinese food. With everyone out of the house for dinner I knew ordering in was just the thing I needed to complete this well-balanced day. After punishing five miles in the city park I cleaned up a bit (read: showered and threw on my most tattered jammies) and made the call to Chinese Palace (“Palace” pronounced with a “ch” sound).

Obviously, I needed an order of Orange Chicken; I find it favorable to know the exact coloring of my ensuing entree. Crab Rangoon was a must; what is this, Amateur Hour? These two combined didn’t get me up to my requisite delivery minimum, $20, so let’s just throw in a six-pack of Fried Dumplings. Yep, that should do it. Forty-five minutes later $26 of Chinese glory arrived for me to eat all by myself.

It's so glorious, no?

OK, so maybe not alone. After making a sizable dent in the greasy magnificence I had to wave the white paper napkin. When you hype something up or put large expectations on event it can often let you down. Nope, not in this case. It was as delicious as I had imagined in my sweet dreams all week. Wait, you guys don’t dream about the ultimate take-out??

 

Next Up: Meatball Grinder (at Westport Flea Market, I think) and a Chicago Style Hot Dog. Please don’t be intimidated by my refined palate.

Musak

I am forever looking for new music. Usually it’s pump-up, workout-type tunes for which I am in constant search. Exercising most days of the week, I cycle through my music pretty quickly and can grow to find my playlist mundane. Here’s where suggestions come in. These can come in human form, or ever-increasingly through electronic sources. iTunes is always “recommending” artists and songs it thinks I might like based on previous purchases, and they are usually pretty spot-on.

Most recently I was directed toward the latest Euro-sensation, Two Door Cinema Club. Likened to such favorites as Phoenix and Franz Ferdinand, TDCC is catchy from the first listen. With their “happy melodies and robotic synths” these guys had me from Play. I downloaded them early this morning and took them to the treadmill where I pounded out five miles. With the help of this snazzy band I cruised through my run, despite hating the treadmill right now. TDCC was just what I needed to get out of my workout mix slump. Their single “What You Know” has started hitting the airwaves, but I also like this ditty and think you might also. Enjoy!

It’s “Snow”ing

Right now I can’t get enough of Miike Snow. I’ve always liked this group, but as of late it seems to be my go-to. This song especially has been serving as my pump-up tune before a run or when I want to get psyched for the next big sale at work. Either way these dudes are a must.

IT’S COMING!!!

And I think it’s about ready to commit.

 

Afflicted

For St Patrick’s day a few friends and I ventured to the Power & Light district in downtown Kansas City. To be honest, this is one of my least favorite places to go. It’s usually sweaty, smelly, expensive, and generally uncomfortable. Last night was no exception. In fact, it was like a helping and a half of the insanity because of the holiday. I thought I would be able to escape the Ed Hardy, pungent colognes, and Affliction t-shirts (you know, the ones with Gothic script, inane phrases and wings?) with everyone dressed in green, but no. Not the case at all.

Upon walking in to the madness my pals and I quickly realized we were waaaaay behind everyone else. Not having binge drank all day we had quite a bit of catching up to do. After getting beers in the main pavilion we headed back to one of the bars in order to escape the madness. On our way back a gentleman told me I was gorgeous and then promptly face planted (I’d like to say it was because of my overwhelming beauty but I’m going to assume it was alcohol-induced). Another good sir tried to get me to dance and insisted he wasn’t trying to be forward, “get with me,” or make me feel uncomfortable. One man told me I looked just like his girlfriend, which I can’t decide whether or not that was supposed to be a pick-up line. All this within 7 minutes!

But the fun hadn’t even started yet. The whole reason for our visit to the P&L was centered around one man: Pauly D from the dynamite show “Jersey Shore.” I’m not even kidding. Though, I wish I was. Pauly D donned his headphones, grabbed his red, white, and green sparkled laptop (again, not a joke) and hit the stage for a DJ experience like you’ve never seen. People were going insane. Obviously, the best part about the P&L is the people watching (besides the hot dogs at the end of the night, which really, is the only reason I go: street meat!) and the fine folks did not disappoint. I wish I would have snapped some more photos but I couldn’t get a good enough angle to really capture the intensity of what happened. Let’s just say scenes like last night are why God invented the fetal position.

Really, all you need to see is the hair anyway.

This doesn't do it justice

Happy St. Patrick’s!

 

If you can’t tell the pot is filled with bottles of beer rather than the prescribed nuggets of gold. I made this t-shirt a couple years ago in honor of the Manhattan holiday, Fake Patty’s Day. What a glorious Saturday that was. Today I am donning it in celebration of the actual holiday.

Hope everyone has a great day!

 

Annnnnd, GO CATS!!!

War to End All Wars (?)

This afternoon my mom and I headed downtown to the Liberty Memorial, a monument and museum in Kansas City that honors those who served in World War I. This unique and one-of-a-kind museum features an enormous collection of photos, artifacts, weapons, videos, and statistics out the wazoo pertaining to the Great War.

The first stop was to the top of the 217 foot tower, affording us splendid views of downtown.

After making our way back down, mom and I headed into the two galleries on the upper deck. Here we read biographies of soldiers and medics, viewed maps detailing the routes of warriors as well as significant battle lines, and were treated to some pretty special memorabilia. My favorite was a telegraph sent from a soldier. Can you even imagine receiving only a few words from a loved fighting in the war who is on the other side of the world? I can’t identify with that kind of unknown.

What about this propaganda? That character? Frightening.

Mom and I traveled to the other gallery to check out more displays.

We then headed underground to check out more of the museum. A program played in the back theater discussing the decision to enter the war. The video concluded with the imagery of an indisputably changing nation. Whether we chose to enter the war or not, America would be changed forever. By entering in the war we were putting our nation into danger, but also in the position to become a great world power. Had we not joined the fight, where would America be now?

One of my favorite features was the great display of posters urging people to buy war bonds and support the cause. As a citizen you were called upon to do all you could, or essentially “your part” to help your country.

 

Unfortunately, as we all know, this war did not end all wars as many people hoped it would. Many more wars have tortured the world since then, and as of yet, there is no peaceful end in sight. This monument is an incredible dedication to those who fought for our freedom and put others far above themselves. Many thanks go out to those who serve.

Good Book

“The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who can’t read.” -Mark Twain

I came across this quote while blog surfing this morgen and couldn’t help but think about the book I am reading right now. Yes, folks, I am still working on Infinite Jest. It’s taking me longer than I thought, but in this instance it isn’t bothering me too much. Usually I get very frustrated with a book I just can’t seem to plow through. With Infinite Jest, however, I quickly realized that this is not a book to be devoured. Rather, it is meant to be savored.

I can’t just pick up this book when I have an extra fifteen minutes. It wasn’t good for reading on trams while in Zürich, and not just because it is so heavy! I can’t cram in a few pages before bed. I usually need to have a minimum of an hour to feel like I will accomplish something.

I’m already a little nervous thinking about trying to review it or sum it up for you when I eventually finish it. There is just so much to say, I hardly know where to start. Some people ask why I am reading such a gargantuan book and I always say for pleasure. And a little for the accomplishment factor. This is just something I really want to do and feel good about. So, in this instance, Mr. Twain (even though I don’t really like you all that much), I feel I am reading a really good book.