A Beautiful Mind is one of those books that I loved so much, and learned so much from reading that I've yet to actually review it. HoweverA Beautiful Mind is one of those books that I loved so much, and learned so much from reading that I've yet to actually review it. However, in light of the news that the man behind the eponymous mind, John Forbes Nash Jr., is no longer with us I thought I'd at least take the time to recommend the book, if not to explain why.
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It is because I like Jim Gaffigan so much that I enjoyed this book so little. With his last book, Dad Is Fat, I put part of the blame It is because I like Jim Gaffigan so much that I enjoyed this book so little. With his last book, Dad Is Fat, I put part of the blame on the topic (fathering five children), and some of the fact that I read (and did not listen to) the book. So, I thought I was being clever by listening to Food: A Love Story.
It turns out, I was not clever enough. Why? Because, for me, this was almost all material that I have heard Jim do—just delivered in a slightly less funny manner. Now here's where things get tricky: this is an amalgam of food-related bits from Beyond the Pale,King Baby,Mr. Universe, and various other specials. So, I suppose that if, for some reason, you really wanted to avoid anything relating to topics other than food, then this would be your way to go… ...more
This just in: it turns out that kids can be monstrously terrible to each other. Feel free to take a moment to integrate this revelation into your hereThis just in: it turns out that kids can be monstrously terrible to each other. Feel free to take a moment to integrate this revelation into your heretofore innocent worldview.
How did I come to know this terrifying secret? From Ray Bradbury of course. (Although I do have this weird blank spot in my memory for the duration of what should have been my middle school years, but let's ignore that for now).
The Playground (available for FREE on audible) manages to pack a walloping creepiness punch into a short story of a father troubled by his memories of his time at the playground, and what such an environment (“an immense iron industry whose sole product was pain, sadism and sorrow”) might entail for his young son.
Welcome to Des Moines, Iowa and the 1950s! There are some things you should be afraid of (mainly Communism, teenagers, and comic books not approved byWelcome to Des Moines, Iowa and the 1950s! There are some things you should be afraid of (mainly Communism, teenagers, and comic books not approved by the Comics Code Authority). But, no need to worry! The Thunderbolt Kid (aka Bill Bryson) will be your trusty tour guide.
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Ah, the 50s—a time when cigarettes made you healthy, your daily dose of amphetamines came in morning cereal, soda was the elixir of life, and prominent doctors defended a boy's right to be dirty.*
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In his telltale jocular but informative manner, Bryson lets his readers in on some of his childhood exploits, as well as the hopes and fears of the era. He lets us enjoy the humors of hindsight, but manages to do so without sounding glib. The “let's suspend everything in JELL-O” craze, revelation that cakes were best served upside-down, and miraculous advent of the TV dinner are no more bizarre than today's cuisine will seem, come 2040.
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The same holds true for technologies. The 1959 launch of the USS Barbero was thought to be just the first among many deliveries made by Missile Mail (spoiler alert: it was also the last).
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Need to buy a new pair of loafers? No problem! We'll just use this handy X-Ray Foot-o-Scope to find you the perfect fit (though, as Bryson mentions, this handy gadget was already on the way out as he was making his way into the world).
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How was your trip? I had a great time, thanks for asking. Three stars is a good rating by my measure. This wasn't the best time I've had with Bryson, and children of the 50s will likely have an added layer of nostalgic enjoyment that I just can't appreciate.
Well, I'm off to turn on my breakfast—I can't be late for the family reunion in our self-flying car!
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____________________________________________ * Dr. Harvey Fleck, as quoted in The Des Moines Register, August 28, 1958, stated that boys instinctively resisting frequent washings were, in fact, keepers of “a profound dermatological truth” that the skin's protective layer of grease, should not be overly disturbed....more
Hallucinations was just not up to snuff for Oliver Sacks— actually, it made me question just how much I would like Sacks' work were I Hallucinations was just not up to snuff for Oliver Sacks— actually, it made me question just how much I would like Sacks' work were I to read it today, having been exposed to a breadth of narrative science writing in the years since I first read his essays.
Sacks presents hallucinations (forms of consciousness wherein sensations occur autonomously, sometimes overlapping with misperceptions or illusions, but without consensual validation) through case studies, seasoning each one with socio-cultural/historical context and bits of neurological intel. And, as it turns out, hallucinations come in many more shapes and forms than one might expect—not all of which are unpleasant (or visual, but I digress).
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The material itself is rich. For me, the mere concept of Charles Bonnet Syndrome (complex visual hallucinations experienced by people with partial blindness), or Anton's Syndrome (a form of anosognosia wherein completely blind patients behave as if they can see) is inherently intriguing. However, I simply wanted more science, the lack of which made what narrative there was seem fractured.
It was Sacks' accounts of his own drug-induced hallucinations, though, that really made me want to turn off and tune out (shoutout to my boy, Timothy Leary). As Sacks interspersed more and more of his personal anecdotes with patients' experiences, the stories became more and more (to use Sacks' own words) “like being privy to a dream.” But, guess what? Other people's dreams are often very, very boring. Seriously, I thought this was common knowledge.
Of course, I learned some interesting things (the mare in nightmare turns out to be not a horse, but a lady-demon who sits on your chest, giving you bad dreams and potentially suffocating you). But, by the end, I discovered that hearing about hallucinations was just not my thing. There are, of course, exceptions— cases in which the floor appears to be lava, and/or people begin transforming into Decepticons might spark my interest.
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