“Now, look, all the books on death and dying
are yours and all the poetry books are mine.”

Dead read the blogger

It’s my turn to go up to Santa Barbara this weekend where the delectable and red hot mrs tbogg and I will renew aquaintances (hey hey hey…minds out of the gutter there, Sparky) while scouting out locations for the new Casa de Tbogg; something under a million would be lovely since only Jeebus knows what new afflictions Beckham will be coming down with in the coming year (I have pellagra in my office pool).

That means it’s book time for the long haul up and back. But since this is no longer a democracy, and I have a letter from Alberto Gonzales to prove it, I have already selected this trip’s book:, Kevin Brockmeier’s The Brief History of the Dead. This comes on the heels of finishing Bringing Out The Dead, which would seem to indicate a trend. I’ve already read Chronicle of a Death Foretold, The Dead, The Death of Artemio Cruz, The Dead Zone, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, and Dead Dog so I’m facing a dearth of death.

You may remember that Motherless Brooklyn was selected for my last trip. But, just like in school, I failed to turn in my book report so let me just say that Motherless Brooklyn was excellent, not as funny as I was led to believe, and clever in its use of a first person narrator who doesn’t decode the world the same way that we do tasked with solving a murder mystery to our satisfaction. Still, all in all, I prefer Lethem’s The Fortress of Solitude for sheer writing brilliance.

The end.

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