This Far No Further by John Wessel read by Richard Ferrone

A nice little vignette of malicious 1990’s life with its Coke, its Sexual
Saturation & its top of the mornin’ Fuck You Very Much Sadism. P.I.
ex-con Harding is hired to track and video rich respected Plastic Surgeon
& wife-beater in the course of perverse sexual scenes.
Erotic, staccato descriptions of girls tied up, girls forced into double
penetration, girls sucking huge, rich, respected, well-educated dick. Then
things get ugly.

The job begins to smell like a set up. The dipsy Goth
girlfriend gets beaten up. The beautiful victimized almost wife begins
to look more beautiful….

Rivers of the Heart by Dean Koontz read by

A book for a long inside day waiting for a hurricane or a war…. about a
man wired by a dream not necessarily of being a cop but of being the good
guy in the uniform, a hacker-ette, and a dog….. and about dainty compassionate
dinner hour executions by Roy, your average, everyday, pre-hysterical,
mild mannered, FBI psychopath, who may, at any moment, shriek or squeal
or giggle or break into some shower scene, and kill his mother, his kindergarden
teacher, the nice little old lady next door…
Far from being a horrorist, K is a very very smart and funny New Englander
or the prototype of what a New Englander would be if he could write his
own language and grin. At the same time. Heald sounds like every crazy
on every highway on every rainy night. The reading is relentlessly funny,
deadpan, narcotic. The real question is: why, and how, Koontz turns suspense
into hope, and human faults into mating calls.

CHORUS:”Never lie to the dog”

Best Scene: Chinese Restaurant

Message: Hope comes from the difference between a government and a people.

Wolves Eat Dogs by Martin Cruz Smith

It is the story of a happy Captain of a sinking ship. It is the story of Chernobyl, afterwards. It is the story of provisional investigators, provisional policemen, provisional scientists who are provisionally accepted as the mad inhabitants of a zone officially uninhabited, in which no crime officially occurs. The mood is of a cocktail party on an asteroid hurtling toward earth. There we find Arkady, sullen, stubborn, singular, biting at radioactive pickles (“Crisp, tasty, and with a touch of strontium”) and asking questions.

Nevil Shutes America: Beyond the Black Stump

Nevil Shute’s America: Beyond the Black Stump

How do we know what we look like to others? They tell us, that’s how.

When Stan, sober geologist, good son and citizen of Hazel, Oregon, tells Molly that he or maybe his friend got a girl pregnant, and that the twelve year old boy next door may or may not be his son, Molly tells him: “That’s just the sort of thing that might have happened in the Lunatic.” Molly is from Lunacy, West Australia.

Stan disagrees:
“The Lunatic was in a foreign country, where people lived to standards that were wholly alien to the United States, drank to excess in an outlandish manner, swapped wives for pistols, and cohabited with native women. It was the way of foreign countries to behave like that and he could readily believe from his reading that worse things happened in France. But it was not the way of the United States. It was deeply insulting to suggest that things that happened in his home town could be in any way comparable with things that happened in the Northern part of West Australia. . .”

Nevil Shute describes this smiling small town and its smilingly kind citizens and the smiling, prim decency of America in 1950. As always, the description is exact, scientific, benevolent. And, as always, it is a just a little detached, a little uneasy, a little remote. As always, it is the description of a visitor. There are pleasant shaded avenues and white painted homes and Stan’s mother and Stan’s father and Stan’s Aunt watching TV in the evenings. There is good and bad and no alcohol. There is talk.

“Everybody here talks about the frontier. And says this is a frontier town. You’re pretty proud of that. But you’ve forgotten what the frontier’s like… honestly, you have. When your first tough guys broke through the Rockies from the East and found this lovely place they married Indian girls. You know it and you’re rather proud of it. Its part of the frontier legend. Well, the frontier’s moved on. Our country’s the frontier now. But when I told Helen this morning that I got a lot of half cast brothers and sisters she nearly threw a fit.”

How do we know what we look like to others? They tell us, that’s how. They tell us that we are a little civilized, but only a little. We don’t believe them. And so we never know. More…


The book offers us not one but a series of possible enemies, possible stories, possible plugs for the black hole in intelligence that lies beyond September 11, 2001.

Put on ten pounds, dirty sneakers, and a baseball cap, bomb the 14th street bridge, the Dallas-Ft Worth Airport, any School, Synagogue or Office Building anytime anywhere anyhow. Welcome to America, stay as long as you want, come back anytime.

Your average everyday Mohammedan maniac made in Iran, or Iraq, or Kuwait, or Kabul, trained by his friendly neighbourhood terrorist, the Egyptian, Serbian, Palestinian, Pakistani, Senegalese, mobilized to kidnap, sabotage, assassinate.

Alone. Another Abridged Morality Play by Lisa Gardner

Alone. Another Abridged Morality Play by Lisa Gardner

Sometimes one wonders whether books get written by stringing together the top keywords in Google. Sex-cops-beautiful wife-abused child-murder-guns-rich family-domestic violence-sharpshooter-alcoholic father-politics-doctors-baseball. (Never forget baseball.) Calculate the page rank, and you get: Good cop gets bad girl. Bad girl has good excuse. Good cop has bad night. Recalculate. Not a best seller yet? Add: bad mother-money-child abuse- sex-psychopath-incest-genetic disease-criminal investigator-kidnapping. (Don’t forget kidnapping). Here you go: Cop with alcoholic father shoots rich husband with gun and fucks wily wife-whore whose impossibly sick child plays baseball. Recalculate. Bestseller. Ho, hum.
Posted on Mar 22, 05 | 10:32 am |

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy by John Le Carre read by FRANK MULLER. An Original.

How did Muller know that the text could sound like this? How could he make words talk like this? And yet he does. Muller turns them up and over and around so that each one cries out: Me, look! Listen to me! Hear me. And having been read in such a way, by such a voice, a word, a text, remains unspeakable by any other voice.
One listens half-crouched, head tilted, just a little, toward the machine, the voice, because it is inconceivable or almost inconceivable that this is English. For how can one even open one’s mouth when there is someone who makes English like this, makes English sound like this….

The Lost Army of Cambysus by Paul Sussman read by Gordon Griffin

An English schoolboy’s happy meal: a murder, a bit of Herodotus, a little masochism, a little colonialism, a shovelful of archaeology, a box of cheroots, a little petit bourgeois pettiness, a pretty but not too pretty girl who works with animals, a plain, uxurious police inspector, and a healthy dollop of fetishism in the form of text, genealogically charged artifacts, and dead soldiers: “an army of old men rising wearily from the sands….”

Quite wonderful. A mouthful. Lux.

Welcome to Temptation by J. Crusie read by Aasne Vigesaa(!)

Welcome to Temptation by J. Crusie read by Aasne Vigesaa(!)

Sophie and Amy Dempsy are listening to Dusty Springfield on the car radio, Amy filming the “Welcome to Tempatation” road sign from behind her pink rhinestone sunglasses and Sophie not paying attention. When they crash, how does Sophie get them out of it?

1. Make the mark smile.
2. Get the mark to agree with you.
3. Make the mark feel superior.
4. Give the mark something.

Add these to your interview techniques. They work, when punctuated with a Dempsey “gotta love me” smile and a cool, smooth, pretty voice, like that of a reader with an unpronounceable name (Aasne Vigessa?)…

The one girly girl book that’s not just for girls.

Date: 02/13/2005 8:24 am