Blog zombie
It’s not often that a web comic can combine three of my recent favorite things, but I suppose that’s why xkcd is on my desktop. Usually I agree with the Elaine character (yay! A brunette!), but this time, I have to go with Zombie Feynman.
The BR Pile
Max Brooks, The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead
What I loved about this book is its sheer density and comprehensiveness. The logic Brooks uses to make his arguments for the effectiveness of certain weapons and strategies is so carefully considered that you can imagine years of long nights arguing in bars about zombies, zombie movies, and zombie lore. If you can’t be there, making that kind of argument with your friends, this is the next best thing. It’s the kind of humor book that gets so detailed, so serious, so engrossing, that you forget that it’s fiction: I actually found myself thinking, “okay, I’ve got a machete, but what about a range weapon?” From the historian’s point of view, it was also interesting to see his take on why the Roanoke colony was abandoned… It’s not a giggly-type humor book, it’s more of a parody and satire, much in the same vein (hur hur hur) of one of the best zombie movies ever, Shaun of the Dead.
Chris Ayres, War Reporting for Cowards
Through a series of misconceived choices, all made to avoid trouble or conflict of any sort, Chris Ayres found himself embedded with Marines in Iraq in 2003. A financial reporter for The Times (London), Ayres is uniquely unqualified to be a war reporter. He makes no bones about being a coward, he is hugely incapable of imagining life on the front lines, and he’d much rather be in Hollywood, reporting on the financial side of making movies. Ayres has a turn of phrase and a capacity for self-revelation that is at times unnerving. Sure, it’s hysterical: the man goes to Iraq with twenty pairs of Calvin Klein underpants and a bright yellow tent with a large red cross on top—practically a bull’s-eye. But there are moments of pure poignancy, when he’s talking about the fear, the madness, the boredom, and the discomfort, where you have to admit to yourself, “wow, I don’t think I’d do any better in that situation.” A really fantastic book (this one happens to be nonfiction) can make you do that.
The BR Pile
Max Brooks, The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead
What I loved about this book is its sheer density and comprehensiveness. The logic Brooks uses to make his arguments for the effectiveness of certain weapons and strategies is so carefully considered that you can imagine years of long nights arguing in bars about zombies, zombie movies, and zombie lore. If you can’t be there, making that kind of argument with your friends, this is the next best thing. It’s the kind of humor book that gets so detailed, so serious, so engrossing, that you forget that it’s fiction: I actually found myself thinking, “okay, I’ve got a machete, but what about a range weapon?” From the historian’s point of view, it was also interesting to see his take on why the Roanoke colony was abandoned… It’s not a giggly-type humor book, it’s more of a parody and satire, much in the same vein (hur hur hur) of one of the best zombie movies ever, Shaun of the Dead.
Chris Ayres, War Reporting for Cowards
Through a series of misconceived choices, all made to avoid trouble or conflict of any sort, Chris Ayres found himself embedded with Marines in Iraq in 2003. A financial reporter for The Times (London), Ayres is uniquely unqualified to be a war reporter. He makes no bones about being a coward, he is hugely incapable of imagining life on the front lines, and he’d much rather be in Hollywood, reporting on the financial side of making movies. Ayres has a turn of phrase and a capacity for self-revelation that is at times unnerving. Sure, it’s hysterical: the man goes to Iraq with twenty pairs of Calvin Klein underpants and a bright yellow tent with a large red cross on top—practically a bull’s-eye. But there are moments of pure poignancy, when he’s talking about the fear, the madness, the boredom, and the discomfort, where you have to admit to yourself, “wow, I don’t think I’d do any better in that situation.” A really fantastic book (this one happens to be nonfiction) can make you do that.
posted by Dana | 7:59 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home