Wandering with my eyes and heart open, searching for pieces to add to my own personal big picture.

Category: Book Quote Commentary Page 2 of 40

I’m a Lucky Girl

Some days...
Some weeks...
You just need a break. ❤

Thoughts on Youth by Joseph Conrad

Youth by Joseph Conrad is the first short story in my edition of Heart of Darkness and Selected Short Fiction, and I liked it very much. The title reflects the recurring thought of “youth” as if he were saying, “Sure, this is what happened, but maybe I’d do things differently now that I’m older.”

Stories about the ocean, ships, weather, etc. are usually beyond me. You might as well be talking about an alien world. I’m not an ocean enthusiast, not by a long shot. I don’t even like hanging out at the beach, a mortal sin for a Southern California native. And sailing?! The extent of my experience ON the sea boils down to two instances.

When I was in my 20’s, I worked as a stage hand at Disneyland and during the strike each night at Fantasmic!, I would pretend I was a pirate on the Columbia while I coiled cables, threw lighting fixtures into the hatch, and stacked things away in the hold for the next nights show. Also, I once went on a cruise to Mexico, and I was sick nearly the entire time.

So, when I read, “…England, where men and sea interpenetrate, so to speak – the sea entering into the life of most men, and then men knowing something or everything about the sea, in the way of amusement, of travel, or of bread-winning.” I had a feeling I’d be a bit lost in this one.

But amazingly, I was not! Conrad sure does have a way with words. Every scene is crystal clear, even if you are unfamiliar with ship terms. In this edition, there are footnotes for some terms, and I found them a tad annoying, especially when it would explain one term that seemed obvious from the context and then not another. Those I had to look up, but I’ve seen enough movies to get the picture.

Describing the ship that he’s about to be First Mate on:

“There was on it, below her name in big letters, a lot of scroll work, with the gilt off, and some sort of a coat of arms, with the motto “Do or die” underneath. I remember it took my fancy immensely. There was a touch of romance in it, something that made me love the old thing – something that appealed to my youth!”

When we’re young, that “do or die” attitude is so appealing. As we get into middle age, the motto “do and see what happens, it’s all good” seems more appropriate.

Here’s something I could relate to:

“It was January, and the weather was beautiful – the beautiful sunny winter weather that has more charm than in the summer-time, because it is unexpected, and crisp, and you know it won’t, it can’t last long. It’s like a windfall, like a godsend, like an unexpected piece of luck.”

And other synonyms. Joe, please. We get it. I do love that feeling though. In the desert, we get it in the reverse here in the summer. Those unexpectedly cool days when a summer storm comes in, the sky clouds up, the wind blows…mmm…so nice. But you know it’s only a cool day. The tomorrows won’t be colder and colder.

And then this about a sudden explosion on ship:

“…felt a dull concussion which made my ribs ache suddenly. No doubt about it – I was in the air, my body was describing a short parabola. But short as it was, I had the time to think several thoughts in…”

My sons have both described something similar when they have crashed while racing dirt bikes. One said that he saw me as he took a jump a little wonky and thought, “Oh my poor mom is going to freak out!” Yes, I did. I had the same feeling myself when I fell ten-foot bungy jump scene on to the top of junk yard car at Knott’s Berry Farm while building the Halloween Haunt. “This is how I die.” I didn’t.

He drank.
“Ah! The good old time – the good old time! Youth and the sea. Glamour and the sea! The good, strong sea, the salt, bitter sea, that could whisper to you and roar to you and knock your breath out of you.”
He drank again.
“By all that’s wonderful it is the sea, I believe, the sea itself – or is it you alone? Who can tell?”

It’s youth. Those things we look back on, even if they were hard times, when we are older always seem so romantic. For me it was the shows I worked on at Knott’s and Disney. Starving, scrambling to pay rent, relationship drama, growing away from family, late nights, exhaustion, broken limbs, and near misses.

It wasn’t the job, or the art. It was youth. Everything was amazing, new, an adventure! Not so much now. I’d rather read about it, have a nice meal, and go to bed early. The young can keep their adventures.

Like I said, I enjoyed story much more than I thought I would. It turns out there is a lot to relate to. Even if the context of life isn’t the same, the humanity rings true to us all.

A Story That Left me an Emotional Mess

Wow, what a story The Dictionary of Lost Words was. There was so much to take to heart, so many leads in new directions. I was a emotional mess when I closed it.

I have a habit; one I refuse to get control of. I’m always looking for books to buy and read. I know! It’s crazy. I mean, buying them is one thing, but READ them too! I’m nuts! But it’s true. Wherever I am, I MUST browse any book section, and I cannot resist books about books, libraries, writers, or words. It doesn’t matter who wrote them or when, they are instantly tossed into the basket.

You know I’m kidding. They are carefully placed into the basket away from other items that may endanger them.

I picked up The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams at Costco a few months ago and it did not disappoint me. I’ll be honest. I didn’t know much about it, and it was slow to start, but then it just started to snowball, and I ended up devouring the last half in a mad rush to get it all in, as if someone might take it away from me. Much in the way I eat tacos, I might add.

Sitting here trying to tell you why I loved it has had me stumped. Like I said when I started reading it, at first, I thought I had already read it but then realized that it’s set inside a true story about the making of the Oxford Dictionary, which I’ve watched a movie about recently. In this book, the fictional character, Esme, grows up in the room where her father works helping create that first dictionary.

Doesn’t seem that fascinating until she gets deeper into the story. It spans from 1886 to 1928. Think about that. What else was going on in England at that time? A lot. And this book is all from a woman’s point of view. There were ideas about words, how they are used, what was considered vulgar. Women’s suffrage and World War I. Relationships (my favorite) and growing up female at that time, so different than my life. And “Esperanto,” a whole language “made up, in a way. It’s meant to be easy enough for anyone to learn – it was created to foster peace between nations.” I need to know more about THAT.

I closed it crying it was so beautiful. My husband thought someone had died.

It raised so many questions for me, so much I want to look deeper into, starting with women’s suffrage.

When I started thumbing through the book, thinking of what to share, I got stumped. I just sat here with a cup of coffee, staring out at the desert. It was all too much.

But then it hit me. I’m trying to convey the whole book to you when what I really want to do is tell you how it made me feel and that I think you should read it too. So here I am.

I’ll leave you with a few of my most favorite quotes. It was hard to pick just a few. The whole book was beautiful. I’m going backwards through the book, looking for my highlights.

“If war could change the nature of men, it would surely change the nature of words, I thought.”

Yes, it does. Every war brings with it new words, some funny like “boo-koo” and some not so funny, like new definitions of horror and despair that get us no where.

“Say it,” he said.
“Say what?”
“Whatever is on your mind.”
I searched his face. I didn’t want anything to change the way he looked at me, but I also wanted him to understand me completely.

This went right into my soul. Have you felt this way? I have.

“Well, it’s easy to say the right things– “ she glanced towards me “– but words are meaningless without action.”
“And sometimes action can make a lie of good words,” Gareth said.

“People have always taken different roads to get to the same place,” Gareth said when he turned back to face us. “Women’s suffrage won’t be any different.”

Much of her words on women’s suffrage reminded me of the Civil Rights Movement.

“You are correct in your observation that words in common use that are not written down would necessarily be excluded. Your concern that some types of words, or words used by some types of people, will be lost to the future is really quite perceptive. I can think of no solution, however. Consider the alternative: the inclusion of all these words, words that come and go in a year or two, words that do not stick to our tongue through generations. They would clog the Dictionary. All words are not equal (and as I write this, I think I see your concern more clearly: if the words of one group are considered worthier of preservation than those of another…well, you have given me pause for thought.)”

So many languages of the past, whole cultures, are lost because that civilization never wrote anything down. Once writing was invented, things changed. That doesn’t mean those people had nothing of importance to remember. But how do you document what isn’t written? Those smart phones, the ones everyone has in their hands, recording just about everything…game changer.

“Mostly I set the type. I’m a compositor.” “You make the words real,” I said, finally looking at him. … “I prefer to say that I give them substance – a real word is one that is said out loud and means something to someone. Not all of them will find their way to a page. There are words I’ve heard all my life that I’ve never set in type.”

There were so many more wonderful quotes that gave me pause. But this next one grabbed hold of my heart. I’ve committed it not only to memory, but to a small post-it on my fridge.

Just because we have wounds and scars, doesn’t make us less useful. We’re only chipped, not broken. We keep going on in this life.

Norwegian Wood: New Read

Hmm…let’s see… How did Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami get onto my TBR shelf? It’s not a long story. I was browsing in Barnes & Noble (something I really need to stop doing for various reasons) and saw the “Banned Books” table. I did giggle to myself, “Mighty bold to have a table right out in the middle of the store with all these ‘banned’ books, I must say.” Yes, I know they aren’t actually banned. They have been requested to be banned by a school district or local library usually.

That reminds me, the issue I received this month of Reason magazine was a “banned book” theme. I read an article there that really irritated me last week called Sensitivity Readers Are the New Literary Gatekeepers. I highly recommend it. If you read it, send me a message. I’d love to talk about it.

Hold the phone. Is it some kind of Banned Books Month? I googled it and there is a “Banned Books Week” but it’s not until September. So, some other “something” has created this marketing ploy.

Once again, I have digressed. I came here talk about how Norwegian Wood got on my TBR shelf. Remember?

There I was with my eyes on the “banned books” table, one hand holding three other books, the other hand hovering over the titles on the table. Most of them I had already read over the years, but there were some I hadn’t. Which one should I choose? Norwegian Wood won that contest. Why? Because I love that song…so hauntingly beautiful but then the lyrics make you wonder… What in the world is going on? Did he burn down her house because she didn’t sleep with him? I have no idea what that song is about, but I hum it every time I see the title of this book.

I finished reading it yesterday morning. It started out slow and kept a regular pace. I’m not sure what to think of it. It says it was written in 1987 in Japanese but translated into English in 2000. It reads like an American story set in Japan, except the dorm culture was very different than when I was at university. The casual approach to sex, the details, the attitudes…was that why it was considered banned?

And why the title? It was a hauntingly beautiful but sad love story. I loved reading it, but it felt strange. Some love stories you read and you’re right there with the characters. “No! Don’t do it!” and “Wait! She’s coming for you!” I end up crying right along with them, my heart broken in pieces. But this was different. I felt like I was reading it through an emotion filter, like I was on anti-depressants.

I read that this book was very different from Murakami’s previous books, so I think I might get another one and find out for myself.

Before I go, I’ll give you a couple of my favorite lines. Some of them were just too delicious!

“Death exists, not as the opposite but as part of life.”

This is a concept that I believe myself and think that most people refuse to accept, which causes all kinds of bigger problems than death itself. Death cannot be avoided. It will come to each and every one of us. It’s part of life and we cannot live without it.

“It’s not that I don’t believe in contemporary literature,” he added, “but I don’t want to waste valuable time reading a book that has not had the baptism of time. Life is too short.”

That’s exactly why I avoid contemporary literature. Just because it was published doesn’t mean it’s good or that it will change me or enlighten me. The odds are actually against it, especially in the age of self-publishing. It isn’t that every book written more than fifty years ago was a gem of genius. It’s just that we only know about the ones that are still speaking to people, the ones still in print. They are in print because people still want them. Their message has stood the test of time. Life is too short not to use the filter of time and the insight of those that came before us.

“If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.”

This is one of the reasons I need to stop browsing at Barnes & Noble. It only gives me the novels and non-fiction that everyone else is reading right now. I need a broader perspective. I follow my own interests. One book leads to another, one podcast leads to a new subject. Like I was explaining in my last Podcast Roundup.

“…we are in here not to correct the deformation but to accustom ourselves to it: that one of our problems was our inability to recognize and accept our own deformities. Just as each person has certain idiosyncrasies in the way he or she walks, people have idiosyncrasies in the way they think and feel and see things, and though you might want to correct them, it doesn’t happen overnight, and if you try to force the issue in one case, something else might go funny.”

I loved the “asylum” that Naoko was staying at to get well. A large group of people voluntarily living a simple and quiet life to get back on track. I wanted to go there and live a year, but then I thought…in some ways I have. I changed how I lived years ago, and it was the best thing I could have done for myself and my family. But that’s a post for another day.

Do I recommend Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami? Yes, I do. It’s beautifully tragic and so different than any love story I’ve ever read. Have you read it? I’d love to hear what you think!

So what should I do?

I love to share random quotes from what I’m reading each day, along with a thought or two about why I’m sharing it. It’s not really a “blog post” because it’s usually so few words, can’t really have a title, etc. Basically anything you’d do to boost the SEO of a post.

More like a social media post it seems.

I think, “I should start a Facebook page!” Then I go to Facebook and my feed these days…ugg… It’s about 75% ads, so I know my posts won’t be seen there either.

Reminds me of watching tv these days. Thirty minute time slot and ten to fifteen minutes of repetetive ads. I get bored and turn it off, much like social media lately.

I’m looking for a home. I don’t write that much; some commentary on a book or podcast, a few personal essays, and even fewer lame short stories (one that I’m excited to share soon… it’s very silly).

Where do I go? I’m tired of posting on Instagram. I literally get about 20 views a day. And I don’t want a Facebook page other than my own personal profile.

PS I do post a lot there publicly, so you don’t have to be a “friend” to see it.

Here’s what I wanted to share today:

“This heart has escaped from my control; its overwhelming sensations defy all the efforts if my reason, and I passionately love without hope, almost without return – nor is this all.” From Mary Shelley’s The Bride of Modern Italy

Don’t I know it, sister!

Some Thoughts on Frankenstein

Let’s talk about Frankenstein by Mary Shelley for just a minute here. Is that cool with you? Have you read it? This was my second time reading it. It’s one of those books that floored me, and I wasn’t expecting it at all. I never even liked the old movies. They were silly. But the book…wow…even on my second read it was a page turner. I could see a whole movie playing out in my mind as I read.

Once again, the book is better. And I’m not one to poo-poo movies based on books. I love them, especially now with the streaming limited series format. But every Frankenstein movie I’ve seen is like they took a few of the characters and made an entirely different story with it. The last time I came across something this bad was when I read Cheaper by the Dozen to my kids. That book was wonderful and brought us all to tears, but then we watched the movie. There is a man with a dozen kids. That’s the only thing that is the same. Why? It was an amazing story!

My sweet husband found Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, the one with Kenneth Branagh, thinking maybe it would be closer to the original story and it was, but it still didn’t do it justice. I did a search for all the Frankenstein movies that have been done and found a list on IMDb. It looks like there was a series started in 2004 but they only did two episodes and quit.

I recently watched I, Frankenstein and thought the monster character was much closer to the original concept of the book, but it was a different setting. I liked the movie, corny but an interesting story.

Something to think about… The alternate title or subtitle to the original story is The Modern Prometheus. Why? I never understood that until now. I read the introduction in this edition and read this:

“The creature is a noble savage, loving and humanistic until driven to murder by human cruelty. The scientist, representing the values of his culture, emerges as egocentric and irresponsible – a failed “New Prometheus.” His obsessive quest for power leads to his own and his creature’s moral and physical destruction, symbolizing a central dilemma of the early nineteenth century: how will the dawning age establish moral values that keep pace with rabidly changing technological advances and political ideologies?”

Mary Shelley published Frankenstein in 1818, nearly two hundred years ago, and here we are struggling with the same issues. Couldn’t someone create a modern Frankenstein, one that reflects our own culture? I’d love to see that. And I’d love to the original story with the history of the time woven into it. Maybe we’d learn something, mainly that we aren’t living in “unprecedented times” after all.  

Been There. Done that.

Haven't you?

From Good Morning, I Love You

“We can learn to take refuge in our awareness and simply witness what is happening without becoming lost in it.”

From Good Morning, I Love You by Shauna Shapiro

That’s what awareness is. It’s stepping back for a moment and taking a breath instead of jumping into a reaction. It’s incredibly difficult, especially when you have a lifetime habit of taking everything personally and fighting for your life at every turn.

The Freedom to Say No

How to do I put this? Hmm…

I loved and hated this book at the same time? No, that’s not right. I agreed with some, disagreed with other parts, sure. I agree on the problem, but not the solution, maybe.

freedom to say no
Photo by Kristina V on Unsplash

While reading the essay Disobedience as a…Problem, I kept thinking about how we raised our sons. The answer “no” was always an option. When I tell people that, their response is usually, “Sure but there are consequences, right?”

Depends on what you mean. Punitive ones? Like, “You have said no, so now you’ll be ostracized or punished?” No. I wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t allowed to say no.

I don’t ask you not to hurt me. I tell you not to and I enforce that. If there is no other option at the moment, like I must stop at the post office and you cannot stay in the car, I don’t ask if you want to come inside with me. Those commands are few and far between.

Just about everything was optional in our family, negotiable. We worked together as much as possible toward a common goal, living in the same house and being happy and comfortable. And they learned to be more and more reasonable as they grew up into adults.

In most families, this isn’t so. Everything is a command from above, in every situation. We raise children as slaves to adult lives, until they are “of age” and then kick them out into the world and expect them to act as reasonable adults without any practice. Like putting a person in jail for 18 years, dictating every move, and then setting them free and saying, “Now continue on your own.”

And most of us do. What we need is to act like independent, reasoning, masters of our own lives, but we don’t have those skills. We only have slave skills, and they don’t serve us well at all. When things aren’t working, we look to government to solve the problems for us, just like our parents and teachers taught us to do.

Seems like a job security thing for politicians and other so-called “leaders.” Independent humans aren’t easily controlled.

In my experience, acting as an adult human is frowned upon. You’re a fool and treated as such, especially if you encourage others to take the reins of their own lives.

Disobedience is the answer, not the problem. We shouldn’t be “obeying” anyone.

I haven’t even quoted this book or presented his ideas to you. I’m not sure how. The book is so short, 91 pages. If I pull any one line out, I’d have to pull the whole page, and then…why not read the book?

There were four essays in this book, all of which I agreed with the premises of, except the last on “Humanist Socialism.” Why? Because I love the goals and principles of socialism, but I don’t see it working well anywhere in the world. And I don’t even have the words to describe why. That’s one of the reasons I keep studying it.

When my first reaction is, “Wonderful fantasy, but how do you get there from here?” I’m reminded of the reactions to my family’s choice of lifestyle and education. They can’t see what we are doing from their vantage point. Is that my problem when I look at socialism? Maybe.

My thoughts always go back to, “If this is so wonderful and perfect, and able to be done without the use of force and coercion, then why doesn’t someone build a working community like this on their own? Why do we have to have it as a form of government?”

Start with your own family, your own community. “If you build it, they will come.” If a socialist utopia works, more people will want to be in it, and it will spread. Right?

I’m not sure, only because of my experience with my sons. Sitting in a karate class, the teacher tells me, “Your sons are focused and dedicated. I can tell you strict with them, no backtalk and video games.” When I told him that our lives are quite the opposite, that we live without rules and they are treated as equals, play video games all they want, and are quite adept at “backtalk,” he just scoffed and walked away.

It feels insane, like everyone around me is seeing the world they want to see, not reality. Am I any different? I don’t believe I am.

To me it seems the best thing any of us can do is live our own lives and leave everyone else alone to do the same. That’s crazy talk to everyone else. When I started this book, I thought the author was headed down that road, but then the last chapter is how we can start a socialist utopia by taking all the power away from whoever has it now and redistributing it.

Whoa…it’s Tolkien’s Rings of Power. I’ll take this power to set things right and then give it back. But no one ever wants to give it back. The power corrupts, always. There is no utopia, socialist, capitalist, industrial, agrarian, or otherwise.

A side note: If you’re curious about the concept of unschooling (life without school instead of school at home), I highly recommend checking out Pam Laricchia’s work. And I’m always open to conversations about our experience, through email or over the phone.

Nudity and Purpose: Final Thoughts on Disneyanity

Do I have your attention? I’m terrible at titles and tying them in with SEO, but this is not clickbait. The post actually is about nudity and the idea of purpose, separately though. Please read on.

Have ever a read a non-fiction book, one you were so excited to read and glean from, and closed it muttering to yourself about how wrong the author is?

That’s what happened to me while reading Disneyanity by Douglas Brode.

I didn’t hate it. There were certainly a lot of very…interesting…takes on Disney movies and tv shows. I just don’t agree with most of them. Some of them seemed outright crazy to me, like maybe he was looking through a strangely distorted magnifying glass.

But then, that’s what we all do with life. The experiences we’ve had and what we’ve made of them, distorts what we see around us, unless we make a very concentrated effort to do otherwise. That’s what I tried to do while I read this book, but sometimes…wow… I wondered if we had been watching the same movies.

Sometimes I wondered what he was talking about. Maybe it was above my head? Too academic? It seemed disjointed and contradictory at times, a collection of unrelated essays. BUT I did like reading it and I found so much to think about. I even clarified some of my own “religious” thinking. I’m going through my notes, wondering what to do with them all. Such is my process, or lack thereof.

For this final post on Disneyanity, I’ll share one bit that I found magical and one that made me cringe.

First the magical one!

nudity

In All the Cats Join In (1946), a white female’s lithe body unswervingly moves to The Big Beat. She drives home, then unashamedly strips and leaps into a hot shower – female nudity on display as it would be four years later in an early sequence of Cinderella. It must be recalled that this was when post-war feminists, including France’s controversial Brigitte Bardot and America’s Marilyn Monroe, embraced nudity as “freedom.” (The concept that this indicates “exploitation” by and for men would emerge in the late-1960s.) Shortly, Disney positively portrayed his teen heroine on a dance floor, be-bopping with the boys, apparently without auteurial criticism.”

Auteurial: A creative artist, especially a film director, seen as having a specific, recognizable artistic vision, and who is seen as the single or preeminent ‘author’ of his works.

There’s a new word for me! It took me some time to figure out what he meant by “auteurial criticism.” Still, I’m wondering why he used that word. Does he mean that the creator was showing the teen girl dancing as a positive action, not a negative one?

What I really came to here to talk about was nudity. Yes! It’s something I have had a bit of an issue with for most of my life. When I was a kid, I refused to cover myself up and my mother was constantly after me about it. “You’re attracting the wrong kind of attention.” I was hot, so I wore shorts. I wanted my shoulders tanned, so I wore strappy tank tops. I was uncomfortably restrained, so I wouldn’t wear a bra. What I wore or not was about me and my comfort…until the world told me that I was attracting the wrong kind of attention. And then I only wondered what that attention was and why it was wrong.

This could be a whole blog post, couldn’t it?

I’m going to keep it short here and just say that nudity is freedom, and so are some articles of clothing.  Personally, with my fair skin, I can be outside much longer if I’m wearing a shirt, and my jeans and boots keep me from getting hurt on the trails. We need to figure out how to get around all this cultural programming that says men can walk around topless and women can’t. Men can show thigh, but women need to cover up. This is just crazy. Wear what makes you happy. Leave people alone. Clothes are for protection from the elements. Every other use is imaginary.

And now for the one that made me cringe.

“…the films, TV shows, and other storytelling forms offer variations on a theme that something deep in the human heart hungers for: The notion that each of us does indeed have a purpose in the greater cosmos. We can best realize it by wishing on a star, heeding Joseph Campbell’s call to ‘follow your bliss,’ and unwavering persistence, derived from faith and hope, to make your dream come true.

Whether you wish upon a star or any other heavenly body. Or the natural world around you.”

My note in the margin said, “I don’t WISH anything.” It reminds me of that uncouth saying, “Wish in one hand and shit in the other, see which one fills up faster.” Which, now that I think about it, is pretty good advice…figuratively. Wishing doesn’t get anything done, doing does.

And this notion of “purpose” really gets my goat lately. Do we all have some grand purpose in this world? I say, no, we don’t. Unless you consider just being here not making everyone else’s lives more difficult, a purpose. Then, yes, we all have THAT purpose.

When I wonder what my “grand purpose” is, I get depressed. This world will not know me when I’m gone. I made nothing better in the grand scheme of things. I’ve created nothing, built nothing, done nothing to better mankind in any big way. And that is the fate of 99.99% of humanity.

In my opinion, it’s sadder to think that billions of people over the millennia never found their purpose. All those serfs, slaves, farmers, peddlers, and clerics, never known by anyone but those they lived with, died penniless and alone, never leaving a mark on this existence. They didn’t even have books and movies, so they probably didn’t even know they needed a purpose other than to live and take care of themselves and the people around them…wait a minute.

Maybe “purpose” isn’t just what you see in books and movies. Those are just the glorified stories, the interesting, to more than you, ones. What if your purpose is better stated as “your personal reason for getting up in the morning?” It could be as simple as, “To see what tomorrow brings.” Hmm…more to think about.

Did I love this book? Yes, and no. Yes, because it brought me a different point of view. And no because it didn’t go far enough. I guess what I wanted was a more succinct and defined “Walt Religion,” a bible of sorts, but what I got was someone’s personal thoughts on a body of creative work. All good though, and I’d recommend it.

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