Books, books --

Two I just picked up. One, is Nothing is Sacred by Lewis Black. Warms the lil cockles of my heart to see he is a peer of mine, raised in the fifties, reached adulthood in the sixties, and Lo, Looky here. Thinks like 90% of the other peery cowards out there who do not open their face or twiddle their voice. Silent majority I do believe comes in more colors than a Crayon 64 jumbo. or even 128? Did they ever get to 256? Anyhoo, I think they killed that chicken by Internet. Those who drool over new colors and made them an art form now dance on E-bay or Facebook, which by the way I refuse. Laugh my head off at the Martin Sheen commercial about how he's an alien and how our ipods, (don't got one) interface with t.v. through our pc's..yum yum rendering our collective brains to mush. Anyway. Black, if you can envision him talking to you, via his book and put in the pauses and emphasis in your mind's eye, Good stuff. Yummy.

Also 'nuther book by a chap by the name of Joe Hill. His lil sleeper is called Heart Shaped Box. Since I am a follower of his dad, I was laying in wait for this lil morsel, and he did not disappoint. A bit puerile, hey he's a kid, already ---but the chops are there, the humor and the weird juxposition of tender sweetness wielded with a razor sharp axe. He does write horror. And I hear his dad's voice, but tempered a bit by his mom's eye for the quirky undertones within a tale of 'aw shucks we are just normal, people'. Umm, it's in the genes i THINK and I'm just gonna follow this lil guy. Saw a picture of him in his book back and dang if he doesn't look like ol Steve too!!! Whoo hoo! Do I smell a dynasty here?

Read it if you like a rough ride through the macabre. It's like acid rock. Louder, flashier, harder, meaner, Daddy's more rockn'roll. but Joe after all, with the years under his belt is gonna give his pop a run for his money I think.