Ivan Doig

I am re-reading some of my collection of Ivan Doig novels. Nothing I like better than curling up with a good book after work.
And his works are better than just good books. Believe me I can tell the difference, having read several thousand books. Most popular books are like hotrods. A lot of flash and sound and motion that hold your attention as long as they are in your immediate view, then soon gone.
The wordsmanship in an Ivan Doig book is like a stained glass window, Each sentence is a little jewel, polished up and placed just to in the framework of the whole, each complimenting the next, but making the whole so much better than a bunch of words herded together in one place.
I can not only get lost in the stories themselves, but am always aware of the craftsmanship. These sentences did not get assembled in this inner and outer order by chance, but every bit by intent.
I think maybe they are better the second and third time around, because you know the shape and content of the book, so you can mentally step back at any point and look at what you have just read in relation to the whole. Studying on the one piece wile holding the shape of the whole in your mind gives you a greater appreciation for the hand and mind that guides you along on your way.

Just Wondering....

I worked both days last weekend, so I am a little deagged out at the moment.
The lovely Mrs A brought me home a 5 hour energy drink to take to work today.
When I look at it to open it up, there on the seal it very plainly says: "Do not drink if seal is broken"
So how am I supposed to get at the contents without breaking the seal?
Just asking.

Osama Bin Hidin'

Last night I removed the black stud ear ring that I have worn in my left ear for almost ten years.
I put it in shortly after 9/11 in memorian of the over three thousand innocent people who lost their lives in the despicable terrorist attack on this country.
I put it in with the goal that it would stay there until the cowardly insane bastard that was responsible was dead.
That day changed the world in a terrible way. Our lives changed for the worse. Everyone's lives. Rich, poor, black, white, Christian, Muslim, all thrown into chaos by the twisted sinister machinations of one sick individual.
My measure of a man in this world is : Was the world a better place for his having lived? In this case the man was a waste of skin. The world would have been a better place if he had never been born.
I do not celebrate his death, for it diminishes us all if we celebrate even his death. I am glad he is dead. But I will not celebrate his death any more than I would celebrate the end of any other odeous chore, like cleaning out the crap in the chicken coupe. It was a nasty chore that needed to be done, and now it is over, and while there is a certain sense of satisfaction in his passing, I don't feel compelled to celebrate.
His death will not bring back the innocent dead, or even begin to repair the great holes he ripped in the world community. He was a twisted, evil, bitter monomaniac.
And I'm glad he is dead