Sometimes I find it extremely frustrating finding good feedback on books, the internet gives us the ability to access a myriad of opinions, the trick is finding the right one. I didn’t do my due diligence this time and got burned, somehow I listened to popular opinion, bad idea.
The Name of the Wind is Patrick Rothfuss’ debut novel, a fantastical first installment of a planned trilogy, centered around the hero Kvothe and his beginnings. There begins my problems with the book, I found Kvothe to be irritating, smug and too perfectly talented and intelligent. The guy is brilliant at everything, it all comes naturally to him from music to fighting to magic, all without much struggle. The guy is flawless, hard to relate to, and therefor unbelievable, I just didn’t care.
Lesson learned, from now on I go to SFSite.com first for my sci fi/fantasy reading need to know.
Despite being a little shunned at the Oscars last night I still am a big fan of Avatar, it’s world building and visuals were top notch.
The film has it’s critics though, many have criticized it’s weak story and characters. I think the criticisms are warranted, but to me it’s a question of whether or not the good outweighs the bad. So anywho, here’s a mash-up from one such critic to illustrate the similarities of the stories of Pocahontas and Avatar.
Andre Agassi has always been an eye catcher. When I started watching tennis as a teen he wore flashy fluorescent clothes, had an awfully wondrous mullet and was personified as a rebel. His career of ups and downs, his famous spouses and Canon camera commercials always made him intriguing and kept him in the limelight. Looking back and with the insight gained from reading his autobiography Open, I think there is so much interesting about his smile, his hurried stilted movement and his eyes.
While reading Open, I had fun hearing about the behind the scene moments of Andre’s tennis matches and celebrity encounters but much more impressive was the growth of the person Andre. Agassi is brutally honest about his need for love and acceptance, his self loathing and the eventual process of finding peace with family and the good and bad of life. His subtle faith was inspiring to me, not preachy or in your face, but truthful and constant.
So, for the record I loved the book, the best I’ve read this year, I recommend it highly. It was written with the honesty and candor that I would like in my own life story, it seemed as if it was therapy for a public person who was largely misinterpreted by us all.
It’s official, HBO has greenlighted ten episodes based on my favorite fantasy series A Game Of Thrones. I’ve raved about these books in the past and my feelings haven’t changed, I can’t wait until next spring to see what HBO does with the series. Here’s a list of the cast:
I love to watch the Olympics, as is the case with me and most sports. I love to watch the best in the world succeed and fail, the euphoria, elation or devastation written all over their faces. I love to watch athletic competition, and really love to root for my team.
So I watched these 2010 Olympics with my athletics loving, Canada supporting glasses on, the failures and successes of both the athletes and the games in general were a little bit personal for me. At the start of the games I tried not to take any negativity about the event personally, such as the weather conflicts and the problems with the hydraulics on Catrina LeMay-Doan’s giant joint. As the games wore on and our medal success climbed and climbed I, like so many Canadians, championed each athlete as my own relative.
But what I am most proud of is the way Canadians seemed to take pride in our country as a whole. We stuck out our chests, screamed, drank lots of Molson Canadian, and we wore red, lots of red dammit. I guess one could see it as kind of a phony, “hey,look at my red mittens” excuse to party, but I’m hoping it’s more than that. I’m hopeful that this new found national pride will transfer and trickle down into our politics and every day life, that we will mature as a nation and stop wondering what the USA thinks of us. It would be nice if terms like western alienation, Toronto the center of the universe and the Bloq weren’t necessary anymore. I hope it will help us to move from being Aboriginals, Europeans, Asians etc. that live in Canada to just plain old Canadians.
Cameron Edmund Buhler was born on Tuesday tipping the scales at 7 pounds 14 ounces. Liz and Cameron are home and doing well and I am off to Cypress Mountain tonight. “What?! Kevin are you crazy?” Well, yes I am, I went skydiving a few days after Gibson was born so this is a tame celebration compared to that one.
The new hospital in Abbotsford had many perks for our enjoyment: a Starbucks and a TV to watch the hockey game before and after the delivery, but what was really fun was having John and Christy down the hall from us. Liz’s brother’s wife had twins a few days before us and it was really nice to camp out with them at the hospital. We could visit and compare notes whenever we needed to and it felt like we had some extra support close by.
It’s weird how you can forget things so quickly; Cameron is a little miracle, such a joy. Amazing and exhausting, a great experience and… I can’t wait to get snipped.
Special kudos to my awesome wife who is such a trooper and a champion baby birther.
With Let The Great World Spin in mind, I watched the Academy Award winning documentary Man On Wire. It documents Philip Petit’s “artistic crime” of walking a tight rope between the World Trade Center towers in 1974. Man on Wire is shot like a heist film, like Ocean’s Eleven or Ronin, which may seem a little odd, especially since you know the outcome going into the movie. I still found that it worked though, building tension and emotion throughout.
The logistics of the walk are CRAZY, sneaking past security with all the necessary equipment, praying that the weather cooperates and then actually walking between two structures 1300 feet in the air that are built to sway up to 3 feet in the wind.
As with Anvil, it’s the character of those in the film that really make it something more. Philip Petit himself is a wing-nut, I guess you’d have to be to attempt such a feat. Although most of his friends share his passion for the project, it is Philip’s quirk contrasted with the more sedate and steady emotion of those friends that really stood out to me. Over 30 years later, they were all still quite invested in the retelling of a risky event that was motivated by art and friendship rather than money.
I found Let The Great World Spin by Colum McCann on a top of 2009 list that Chapters sent me. It was in position number one and sounded interesting to me, so I gambled a bit and threw some of my Christmas money at a hard cover.
It is a novel of different short stories co-existing with a historical dare-devil at it’s core. In 1974 Phillipe Petit walked a tight rope wire between the World Trade Center towers. Amazing as Mr. Petit’s accomplishment is, it is not the subject of the book, but rather a backdrop for a variety of New York stories, one that periodically pops up to tie them together.
I was immediately intrigued by Let The Great World Spin, mainly due to the first character we meet, an “undercover” priest who befriends hookers. Corrigan cares little about his own well being, appearence or possessions, but really goes all out in serving the down and outers. Living in a run down apartment in the Bronx, he leaves his door unlocked at all hours so that the girls have a place to go to the washroom. I was so into his story and those around him until… well his role in the book grows smaller.
After Corrigan, each chapter is from a different characters view and tells their own tale of despair, friendship or triumph, usually with the tight rope walker appearing in the background. The problem for me was that some stories worked for me but most did not, I really could have cared less about their ups and downs.
I recently read about one literary professor who upon starting a book asks, “Why do I care about this character and the story?” If after five pages she doesn’t have an answer she drops the book. She asks the same question after 50, 100 and 200 pages. A good question me thinks.
I think I stopped caring at about the 200 page mark, but I really have a hard time quitting on a book. I always feel like I might miss out on something, plus I dropped like 30 bones for it, what kind of Menno would I be if I didn’t read every word?
I’ve been a little ‘underwhelmed’ in the area of blog inspiration lately. So to give some kick start my heart action to my creative juices, I thought I’d just post this cool short I watched. It’s about a dude who gets smacked by a meteorite, enjoy! Or don’t.
Sometimes I find it extremely frustrating finding good feedback on books, the internet gives us the ability to access a myriad of opinions, the trick is finding the right one. I didn’t do my due diligence this time and got burned, somehow I listened to popular opinion, bad idea.
Andre Agassi has always been an eye catcher. When I started watching tennis as a teen he wore flashy fluorescent clothes, had an awfully wondrous mullet and was personified as a rebel. His career of ups and downs, his famous spouses and Canon camera commercials always made him intriguing and kept him in the limelight. Looking back and with the insight gained from reading his autobiography 
I love to watch the Olympics, as is the case with me and most sports. I love to watch the best in the world succeed and fail, the euphoria, elation or devastation written all over their faces. I love to watch athletic competition, and really love to root for my team.
Cameron Edmund Buhler was born on Tuesday tipping the scales at 7 pounds 14 ounces. Liz and Cameron are home and doing well and I am off to Cypress Mountain tonight. “What?! Kevin are you crazy?” Well, yes I am, I went skydiving a few days after Gibson was born so this is a tame celebration compared to that one.
With Let The Great World Spin in mind, I watched the Academy Award winning documentary Man On Wire. It documents Philip Petit’s “artistic crime” of walking a tight rope between the World Trade Center towers in 1974. Man on Wire is shot like a heist film, like Ocean’s Eleven or Ronin, which may seem a little odd, especially since you know the outcome going into the movie. I still found that it worked though, building tension and emotion throughout.
I found 
