Brief Reading Note

I finally got through Dante (I read Inferno at a loping pace, dragged through Purgatorio, and made a mad, mad dash through Paradiso—which I will regret, I'm sure) and I'm likely to finish up the British sci-fi novel Point today. I've got stacks of books in ten different subjects waiting for me, but I'm not sure which one to read next. To be honest, I really need a day or three to catch up on my magazine reading.

I have waiting for me two issues of Inside Lacrosse, two issues of The New York Review of Books, the winter 2011 issue of Winq, an issue of Monocle, and an issue of Inked. (I won't even mention the surfing magazines commemorating Andy Irons and celebrating Kelly Slater). It will take awhile to get through all the interesting and relevant articles piled up in these magazines on my coffee table.

My 2010 in Books, Part 4 (Honorable Mentions)

The Yoga Sutras of Patañjali: A New Edition, Translation and Commentary, by Edwin F. Bryant. If you have any curiosity about Indian philosophy, I highly recommend this book. Bryant surveyed all the commentaries on Patañjali, including not only various Hindu schools, but also Buddhist and Muslim commentaries, and incorporated the material in this comprehensive volume. Highly recommended.

Personal Memoirs, by Ulysses S. Grant. I read this book out of a curiosity raised by frequent reading in Ta-Nehisi Coates's blog on Atlantic.com. A must for those interested in US history or the US Civil War.

Turtle Feet: The Making and Unmaking of a Buddhist Monk, by Nikolia Grozni. My new all-time favorite "spiritual" memoir, Grozni's slow awakening to the pretensions and underlying reality of spiritual pursuits in the Himalyas is funny and rich.

My 2010 in Books, Part 3 (Books That Affected My Life)

Flow, by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. This book spells out the keys to a 'flow'mentality, at work and at play. Essential reading.

Think for Yourself!: An Essay on Cutting through the Babble, the Bias, and the Hype, by Steve Hindes. An essential book on critical thinking. It helped me to rethink my beliefs (or lack thereof).

The End of Overeating, by David A. Kessler, MD. By looking at the reasons behind current US obesity trends, Kessler is able to make solid recommendations for individuals trying to fight the overeating habit.

My 2010 in Books, Part 2 (Non-Fiction)

Born to Run, by Christopher McDougall. In trying to discover why a tribe of sandalled indigenous Mexicans happen to be the greatest long-distance runners on the planet, McDougall also uncovers the problems with the modern running shoe, how our ancient ancestors ran down their food, and some things that bring simple joy to living. Also, he tells a really good story.

Losing My Cool, by Thomas Chatterton Williams. Williams immersed himself in the middle-class black approximation of thug life hiphoppery in his middle school and high school years, but soon learned it was a dead end. His father's relentless influence, and his father's huge library, led Williams back to a love of learning. This is perhaps the best memoir since Lac Su's I Love Yous Are for White People.

The Gun, by C. J. Chivers. An excellent history of automatic weapons, and in particular the AK-47. Chivers explains how this weapon, more than any other, including the Bomb, has changed the face of our world.

My 2010 in Books, Part 1 (Fiction)

Ghost Radio, by Leopoldo Gout. A creepy, atmospheric ghost story, steeped in a middle-class urban Mexican-American milieu. In some ways, this novel is as much a meditation on music, noise and teen rebellion as it is on meaning in life, and on what haunts us.

Let Me In, by John Ajvide Lindqvist. By far the best vampire novel I read this year (I read five). It starts out creepy, and the horror just grows. What's more, to the very end I remained conflicted about the role and survival of the original vampire. The plot twists add to the tale.

Secret Identities, edited by Jeff Yang, Parry Shen, Keith Chow and Jerry Ma. A seminal collection of Asian-American superhero comics. Fun, enlightening, and well crafted. If you love comics, you really ought to have this book.

My "Deserted Island" Books

I recently challenged myself yet again to list my top ten 'deserted island' books, i.e., the books I most want to keep on my possession should I be stranded on a deserted island. There have been some significant changes from previous lists, and in the end I could only come up with 8 (!). Anyway, here they are:

1. Leslie Marmon Silko, Almanac of the Dead: A friend once told me that he thought he would be rereading and wrestling with David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest for the rest of his life. For me, the equivalent is Silko's monumental Almanac of the Dead. There is so much going on in this harsh tome (about an apocalyptic clash between the indigenous and Euro-American civilizations), and yet it is so beautifully terrible, or terribly beautiful. In the end there is hope, but hope that will be bought through lots of blood and pain.

2. Stephen Beachy, The Whistling Song: A postmodern On the Road, a book about the uniquely estadosunidense desire to find ellusive truth just over the next horizon, in the next town, with the next stranger who gives you a lift or let's you crash in his home.

3. Ryu Murakami, Coin Locker Babies: Unearthing the dark heart within the polished veneer of civilization. That dark heart is the pain of disillusionment, and the tragic results of resentment arising from false promises.

4. Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov: A sprawling novel of multiple voices, where the human condition is studied, laughed at and cried over. It's the crowning achievement of Dostoyevsky's life's work.

5. Kingsley M. Bray, Crazy Horse: A Lakota Life: a lengthy, assiduously researched and skillfully written study of the life of a great human being, and of the culture that nurtured him. Crazy Horse stands out as a man who carefully balanced his community with his inner life, and used the balance to become a great leader.

6. Subcomandante Marcos, Our Word Is Our Weapon: leftist polemic is supposed to be dry, demanding and dull as dishwater. This book is not. Subcomandante Marcos is a poet and an inspirational writer. When I read his words, I believe in humanity again.

7. Dan Eldon, The Journey Is the Destination: Dan Eldon's life was tragically cut short in a riot in Somalia. He left behind dozens of notbooks filled with photocollages from his travels and adventures. His mother culled out the best of the best, and put together this book, a visual musing on life, beauty and humanity.

8. Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception: This is the only book on the list I've not gotten all the way through yet. But even more than Sartre's Being and Nothingness, I want to understand this book.

Radical Queer Punk Skateboarder Nostalgia

It was a quiet weekend. I overspent myself in August, and I had to be a little more restrained in my shopping. Still on Saturday I metroed and bussed out to a suburban mall to look for ear posts and tunnels, since I'm increasing the bore in my earlobe piercings ever so slightly. I confined myself to buying only the posts and tunnels, but I looked around the mall for a few minutes in anticipation of a return. I especially lusted after a Steve Caballero skateboard deck, very similar to the one I had a few years ago.

I spent some time reading, getting through an early Dostoyevsky novella (The Double) and two-thirds of the way through a collection of fiction by John Greyson. He's a Canadian writer and filmmaker, and he involved himself in the "Queer Wave" of film and art in the late 80's and early 90's. Reading the book has taken me back to those heady days of radical queer underground cinema (e.g., Greg Araki's The Living End and Totally Fucked Up) and books (e.g., Justin Chin's Mongrel and Wesley Gibson's Shelter), and the subversive and transgressive feeling I had in the first few years after I came out. (My years of coming out were immediately preceded by my years of punk rock and skateboarding.)

The years leading up to and following my coming out were the most intense years of self-exploration I'd experienced. There were some very rocky, very scary times in there, but there were also some great times, too. Back then, having survived coming out, there were times when I felt that merely continuing to draw a breath was a subversive act. The world is different now, and I see the kids that grow up out of the closet (were never really in it, in some cases) and for all the world to see on tv, on Facebook, on Youtube, etc. and I am so happy for them. My hope back then for a better future for LGBTQ kids has to a certain extent materialized.

Hope is a good thing if it is grounded in reality. For that matter even a little fantasy is okay, provided that one isn't annoying or dangerous about it.

Thinking about Making Curried Vegetables and Other Stuff

I think for me, the stages of encountering "the new" follow along these lines: 1) euphoria; 2) terror; and 3) mundanity. Sometimes #'s 1 and 2 switch places. I've slid past the terror at the realization of my aloneness and freedom in the universe, and now am on to thinking, "well, maybe I could make some curried vegetables this weekend." Somehow, this is progress has been very similar to one summed up by Douglas Adams:

It said: "The History of every major Galactic Civilization tends to pass through three distinct and recognizable phases, those of Survival, Inquiry and Sophistication, otherwise known as the How, Why and Where phases.

"For instance, the first phase is characterized by the question How can we eat? the second by the question Why do we eat? and the third by the question Where shall we have lunch?"

—The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, chapter 35.

Despite my official agnosticism and adherence to no specific religion or philosophy, I do find a lot of wisdom out there to draw from. Taoism, in its most philosophical form, is very useful to me. It has been mischaracterized as "go with the flow" but I believe a more accurate description of the Taoist way is "learning to surf the flow." Logs that go with the flow of a river get caught up on rocks; kayakers endeavor not to do the same.

Other philosophical streams I draw from include Stoicism, Existentialism, Soto Zen and ethical studies. I view the texts and thoughts available to me from the subject areas not as maps for going forward; instead they are like those like those guides showing me how to recognize different species of trees or birds, as I pick my own path forward.