Syllabus #32

I've had no heat at work this week.  Does worker's compensation cover gangrene?

Here's what I'm placing on the altar of our shared internet experience this week:


Yea I'm freaking out too, but I think we're freaking out for different reasons.  Sounds uncomfortable.


LOL at a Nordic urban planning scholar visiting Nashville and telling us how much our lack of public transit sucks.  BUT YOU CAN'T MAKE A JOKE ABOUT THAT ON THE INTERNET or everyone who has lived here for at least 3 seconds longer than you will a) totally misunderstand the joke and b) come at you like you just slapped their momma.


More reasons to love Jenny Slate and her Little Weirds.


When a man loves a railroad.


It's about damn time we appreciate that Big Trombone Energy.


I don't know, man.  I don't think I want one of my pets treated the same way we treat food to take camping.


Gary Gulman's comedy special was endearing.  Hilarious yet sad and sweet.  He is a delightful human.


The end of children.  I'll make the popcorn.


Pretty ladies and fuzzy kitties, what's not to love?


Oh, the Finns and their respect for libraries is legendary.  My people.

Analog Reading:

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens.  I went into this with skepticism, feeling like I needed to see what all the hype was about.  My grandmom told me she thinks it's possibly the best book she has ever read and she's working with about 80 years of reading experience there, but she also recently told me she enjoyed a Bill O'Reilly book, so, honestly I don't know when to trust her taste anymore.  But oh sweet swampy baby Jesus, I love this damn book.  I still have about 100 pages to go, and I can't put it down but can't bear for it to end.  It definitely has its flaws, with occasional corny or trite dialogue and some character descriptions that seem silly or superfluous, but the world Owens is able to conjure with relatively simple prose is so rich and vivid.  Plus, the book really paints a clear picture of the depth of isolation and abandonment required to give a woman the space to indulge her intellectual curiosity and create great works of literature and art.  If all it took for me to have the time and mental space to write a book was to live alone in the swamp without running water or electricity, well hot damn, sign me up.