Coté

It Can't Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis My rating: 2 of 5 stars I gave up reading this one because it never seemed to get to a plot. And, you know, it was like a "bad things can happen" book that got a bit repetitive and (given how cynical we all are now-a-days, without even thinking about it) unoriginal. I feel like a schmuck for not reading a book written by a Nobel Prize winner, but those episodes of Mad Men aren't going to watch themselves.

It Can't Happen Here by Sinclair Lewis My rating: 2 of 5 stars I gave up reading this one because it never seemed to get to a plot. And, you know, it was like a "bad things can happen" book that got a bit repetitive and (given how cynical we all are now-a-days, without even thinking about it) unoriginal. I feel like a schmuck for not reading a book written by a Nobel Prize winner, but those episodes of Mad Men aren't going to watch themselves.

But the Saigon years would not be happy ones. After all those years learning control, discipline, making those the touchstones of his life, Max Taylor was now confronted by the wild irrationality, the deviousness, the maliciousness and venality of the South Vietnamese. It was somehow unfair; people who are about to be saved from the Communists should feel some element of gratitude, and at the very least the gratitude should surface in the form of knowing they were being saved, and more important, wanting to be saved.

But the Saigon years would not be happy ones. After all those years learning control, discipline, making those the touchstones of his life, Max Taylor was now confronted by the wild irrationality, the deviousness, the maliciousness and venality of the South Vietnamese. It was somehow unfair; people who are about to be saved from the Communists should feel some element of gratitude, and at the very least the gratitude should surface in the form of knowing they were being saved, and more important, wanting to be saved.

To listen to the episode, subscribe to the podcast feed in iTunes or whatever, download the episode directly, or click play below to listen right here: Click here for episode MP3 Earlier this afternoon, Charles and I found time to record an episode while we were taking a break from looking at office space. Check out the fote above for a behind-the-scenes look on making the sausage!

To listen to the episode, subscribe to the podcast feed in iTunes or whatever, download the episode directly, or click play below to listen right here: Click here for episode MP3 Charles and I catch up on things like water on sink-tops and sugar on cereal. Special guest: Kim! Tiny guest: Niilo!

Awhile ago, I thought it’d be nice to have a fruit bowl on the table. We’d have apples and bananas and grapes just like one of the endless, boring still lifes you see on vacation muesem strolls. Minus the marble-eyed fish and shoulder flashing milk-maids. Keeping all that fruit from rotting is tough work. Bananas spoil faster than can be eaten, even avacados. Kim tried some grapes, which were fantasic for room temperature snacks, but a disturbing number still spoiled.

Awhile ago, I thought it’d be nice to have a fruit bowl on the table. We’d have apples and bananas and grapes just like one of the endless, boring still lifes you see on vacation muesem strolls. Minus the marble-eyed fish and shoulder flashing milk-maids. Keeping all that fruit from rotting is tough work. Bananas spoil faster than can be eaten, even avacados. Kim tried some grapes, which were fantasic for room temperature snacks, but a disturbing number still spoiled.

I have that certain problem with procrastination, the one where I do all sorts of things of little to high value instead of THE one thing (or things) that really needs to get done. It’s sort of like, I’m too lazy to do the simple things I’m procastinating with without something more important to avoid.

I have that certain problem with procrastination, the one where I do all sorts of things of little to high value instead of THE one thing (or things) that really needs to get done. It’s sort of like, I’m too lazy to do the simple things I’m procastinating with without something more important to avoid.