Well, it appears that the damn thing got wiped — courtesy of a few people who commented. Can’t fix it for the next sixteen hours, as I won’t have access to the computer it originated from for sometime. But for those of you who missed it, here are the intro page and the Carl Weathers page. I’ll put the whole thing in a permanent spot tomorrow.
Also: hot damn. Ron’s on the case, covering last night’s Young Lions awards. This is the future. So work it, people. Work it.
Also also: Emails to all tomorrow. Apologies.
Also also also: Jimmy Beck is guesting at the Hag. He’s good. I give him six posts before he starts firing rifles into the air. Give this man some whiskey and give it to him quick.
[UPDATE: Man, only a few hours in and Beck is on a roll. This rant begins with "I had no intentions of getting into the whole Jewish thing, at least until erev Shabbat," and turns into a side-splitting expose that dares to reveal all. Go read it. Between Beck and Rake, the newcomers are making sure the blogosphere's a kickass place to be in.]
The Call by Yannick Murphy: The always interesting author of Here They Come and Signed, Mata Hari returns with a novel that whips up a worldview from a rather quirky set of limitations: namely, the call logs that a veterinarian maintains as his son is unexpectedly put into a coma and an unforgiving economy denies him work. What emerges is a surprisingly optimistic, often funny, and very moving account on how one family uses acceptance and forgiveness as a way to atone for hard knocks. (
Birds of Paradise by Diana Abu-Jaber: Forget Franzen and Eugenides. If you're looking for a social novel that counts, Diana Abu-Jaber is the author you're looking for. Building from the free-form exploration of consciousness and identity in Crescent and the gripping procedural structure of Origin, Abu-Jaber's latest novel is her finest, equally fluent with gutterpunk culture and smarmy real estate men. It has been suggested by The Washington Post's Ron Charles that you will likely gain some pounds while reading this novel. This is certainly true. Abu-Jaber's description of food is so precise that it often made me want to do more cooking. But I very much admired the way in which Abu-Jaber presents all her characters as unwitting victims of rough capitalism, which permits them some dignity even as they perform terrible acts.
The Last of the Live Nude Girls by Sheila McClear: This memoir isn't so much about the decline of the Times Square peepshow, as it is about one young woman's efforts to pull herself up by by her bootstraps when presented with few economic options. Filled with self-introspective candor and a quiet dignity, McClear's story is one that might befall any of us in these volatile times. While McClear does get back on her feet, her book leads one contemplating the terrible fates of other young women now moving to New York and falling into deadlier vocations. (
Ed, Carl Weathers has been appearing, as himself, as Tobias’ acting coach on “Arrested Development.” Attention must be paid, sir.
Aw, shucks. I don’t even turn my teevee on anymore. Thus, I only know actors from movies.
The check is in the mail, Ed. Seriously, thanks. Now praise the Lord and pass the ammo…