Rich (15/26): Everything That Rises Must Converge by Flannery O'Connor

Reasons to read this collection of short stories:

1. The title rocks.


2. The mystique surrounding Flannery O'Connor.


3. Her style works like this: left jab, left jab, left jab, left jab, RIGHT HOOK. You know it's coming; you do everything in your power to avoid it, feint, block, dodge, scramble, punch, but you end up walking right into it.


4. These stories unmask the thoughts behind every expression, the longing behind every look, and the pain behind every cough. It could be that muffled scream through the wall from a neighbor, the sigh from an old man on a park bench, or the yawn from the teenager in the doctor's waiting room. They all are whiffs of sweet banana bread baking that make you look up while you are walking on the street, evoking much more than a visceral stomach grumbling.


5. They're short.


6. What's that on the cover?

Rich (14/26): Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

People are stupid. Whether you're in Africa, Europe, or Mars (reaching, maybe), you'll find jealousy, stubbornness, pride, and greed. Look a little more, and you'll also find love, brotherhood, generosity, and humility.

Okonkwo is a dud. His father was a dud. His grandfather was a stud. Maybe there's hope for Okonkwo's sons.

His children are in trouble. Nwoye is a dud. Ikemefuna is cursed. Ezinma dances with the dust and is a survivor. But, Okonkwo wishes she were a boy instead.

The men of Umuofia are men. Mr. Brown is smart. Mr. Smith is an ass. People are stupid.

Rich (13/26): For Whom the Bell Tolls by Ernest Hemingway.

See, there's this guy, an American guy, all James-Bond-like -- the Sean Connery subtle/cool style, not the Pierce Brosnan shoot-anything-that-moves type -- that's working behind enemy lines in the Spanish Civil War. He's got a bridge to blow so that the other, larger surprise offensive can be successful. But, he can't do it alone, right? He's got the help of the local guerilla, who've been through hell and then some (see what happens when some fascists start making trouble in your neighborhood.) Their bad-ass rebel leader used to be the Luke Skywalker-type who could execute a man and still be in time for his haircut appointment. But, he's no longer that man, and his wife hates him for it. She reads the palm of the Inglés and sees his future, but won't reveal it. At least she can control the band of rebel men, while her husband worries about his precious horses. The old man. The old man knows these mountains well and has killed before, but thinks to do so is a sin. But, the Inglés likes him and knows he, at least, will follow his orders. But, what of the girl? She was once beautiful, but war turns husbands, fathers, and brothers into savages and wives, daughters, and sisters into fruits to be consumed. This girl, once ripe, but now bruised, distracts the Inglés from his job, his duty. The covert agent is human; moreover, he is a man.

And, the snow begins to fall. It's August, early in the year, but not unusual in these high altitudes. It is everywhere and falls without a sound, in contrast to the bombs that can be heard, but not seen. It is impossible to tell what the snow is covering up, and impossible to leave no tracks after it has fallen. The girl is a good thing, the snow is not.

swingbeat 28/26: Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman

This is an anthology of short stories that Neil Gaiman has written over the years. There are quite a few interesting tales here - and a couple I couldn't really read. For example, I hate hate hate poems, and he has a few poems.

His writing is good as usual, and he is creative in the mythologies and settings that his stories take place in. Not as good as George R. R. Martin, but still good.

Recommended. Doesn't rock your world as much as Sandman or his other stuff, and it's not an absolute nailbiting pageturner, but it's a pretty good read if you have small bits of time laying around..

Kayan : 11/26 : Dreams from My Father by Barack Obama

I first heard the name of Barack Obama during the 2004 Democratic National Convention. "He's our country's best hope!", said my progressive New Yorker friend. I remember thinking, cynically, "How impressive could a Senator from Illinois be? And what kind of name is Barack Obama?" I was in for a treat.

Barack Obama delivered the Keynote Address at the DNC that night, and his speech gave me both goose bumps and a spine-tingling, refreshing new hope for the future of America. As Oprah later declared, "It felt like a new day." Obama's speech was eloquent, confident; here is a man who has spent time in the drenches, experiencing, trying to understand, the deep troubles of this country. And he yearns deeply to save this country in the things from which it ails, the ones that matter: the dying of common decency, brotherhood, opportunity, unity. Hope.

Watch / Read his speech (Get ready to have your world ROCKED)

"Dreams from My Father" is Obama's memoir, originally published in 1995. On the surface, it appears to chronicle the life of a mixed-race boy growing up in America: Obama's mother is from Kansas; his father, Kenya. But before long, we come to find Obama's story is one of self discovery. Whether it's growing up with a single parent; moving around too much in his teenage years; experiencing life as an immigrant; figuring things out in the awkward years that are called High School; finding oneself and one's purpose in the college years; every person in America can probably find at least one part of Obama's life with which he or she can relate. As is life, this story is so much more than black and white.

Obama is an extremely introspective individual. He contemplates about the world and how he fits in it. "I feel this way. That bothers me. Why does that bother me?" "The world is this way. Why? How can we salvage the situation before it becomes too late? Or, is that just the way it's going to be?" To my happiness, his visit to Kenya and his feelings about Africa resonated with my own. He is overwhelmed by the beauty of Africa - its land and its people - but he is also troubled and pained by the struggles of its people - his people - and the prospects of Africa's future.

I hope Obama runs for President, and soon. Before reading this book, I could not understand how people could *love* a President like John F. Kennedy; why people would cry and mourn the death of a President as someone deeply personal. I now understand.

Quotes from his speech:
"The pundits like to slice and dice our country into Red States and Blue States; Red States for Republicans, Blue States for Democrats. But I've got news for them, too. We worship an awesome God in the Blue States...and yes, we've got some gay friends in the Red States."

"The audacity of hope! In the end, that is God's greatest gift to us, the bedrock of this nation. A belief in things not seen. A belief that there are better days ahead."

Highly Recommended: So you know who to vote for in 2012 (and get all your friends to vote for him too)