10 shopping days left!

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[Editor's note:This post is not an invitation to disregard the information provided in the last post, viz, Theric will still not be regularly posting for a while. If you have not finished that post, you are certainly expected to continue making it last. However, current sabbatical notwithstanding, Theric has spent most of the past year slaving away at keyboard after keyboard for your benefit and we the editors of Thmusings feel it would not be inappropriate to ask his readership to celebrate Coast Guard Day in the same way the Coast Guard does, namely, by giving Theric gifts.

Now, Theric would never ask you to remember him on Christmas. He wouldn't want to take away from your efforts to brighten the holidays for crippled third-world ponies. But come on folks: Coast Guard Day? Don't pretend you had any other plans. August is the most holiday-free month of all and your gift-giving spirit needs an outlet! Set it loose! Let it flow over Theric like honey! Sweet, sticky, delicious honey! Theric likes honey! And he knows how to do his own laundry!

Now is the time to act! So act!

What Therics like best is the media arts. The following are samples of said stuffs that we the editors happen to know he would dig. We know this by having dug these lustful thought from his brain. This is hot stuff, folks. Hot. Stuff. From his brain. Lusty hot. You know what I mean.]

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Fiction:

People ought to read their friends' books. I'm feeling guilty.

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Otherwise, I tend to own most of the fiction I'm desiring to read. I suppose I could use some Chuck Palahniuk or A.S. Byatt, and no one can have too much Orson Scott Card or Terry Pratchett, and my collection is shy some alleged classics, but really, I'm doing okay.

Nonfiction:

I must first admit I hatehatehate those stupid emails about children's prayers and miracles. They're manipulatively told and almost certainly false. I hate all such tripe and the market is chocked with it. That's why this book, half of which I've read, was such a surprise. The book is full of miracles Harold B. Lee discreetly documented without ever intending to publish. They were stories quietly told to him by people who trusted him with their sacred experiences. It's a beautiful book that helps remind me what faith is beyond the world of email forwards and other mainstream religious garbage. This world is part of a beautiful creation founded in love and this collection is a powerful reminder of that fact.

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I'm confused by people who claim not to love Sarah Vowell. Why would they lie about something like that?

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I think that about covers it....

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Poetry:

His name is Ted. Scott Adams would make a joke about that. I think I'll just read his book.

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Billy Collins saved poetry for me. In return for this huge favor, I should buy his new book. But I haven't yet. See, that's where you come in.

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Emily has inspired some of my own finer poetic offerings

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Lynch is an undertaker in Michigan and I love his prose on his work. My limited experience with his poetry has also been positive. Vote Lynch! Our next Poet Laureate!

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Speaking of the dead, I'm pretty disappointed that none of my so-called friends in Utah told me that Leslie Norris died. I had to learn about it from the BYU Humanities newsletter. Thanks a lot, guys.

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Comics:

Admit it: This looks crazy cool.

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I like my melancholy with anthropomorphic dogs, thank you very much.

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Unless, of course, that melancholy comes courtesy of the inestimable Edward Gorey, one of the true comic greats of the last century. Do you have the shivers? I have the shivers. Everyone has the shivers. Brrrrrr.

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I tried and tried to find all the volumes in a row at the library, but that's nearly impossible. Now that they're all together in one book, perhaps I will finally find happiness....

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Go ahead: scare me.

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I feel I need to defend this choice to two camps: those who think the image of superhero comics is dragging the artform down, and those who complain that this offcenter title is the only superhero one here. To both camps I say this: Camping sucks. You smell. / / / Also, When I was a frequent visitor to the library Fob, I learned that the depths and complexities of superhero universes allow for amazing, literary feats unmatched anywhere else. Superhero comics are a viable literary form. But I haven't that much need to build a library like Master Fob's. This is all I really need right now. Thank you.

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Chicks:

Is this album totally awesome? Yeah. Does the lead-singer chick totally have a bizarro hairdo? Yeah. Would it totally make my Coast Guard Day if you dropped it by with ice cream? Yeah.

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Static & Silence is not my favorite album, nor is it the greatest album ever recorded, but it is the most beautiful album in humanity's history. And surely you wouldn't disallow a fellow a little more beauty in his life?

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Let's see, it's well established that I like chicks, so who else....

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And, of course, the grandmammy of them all:



I've been looking for this album for over ten years. That's a long time.
I still don't have it. That's a long time.

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Other music:

Name? Check. Daddy? Check. Wealth? Check. Album? What the-- I don't have it!

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As if this set wasn't awesome enough already, you can get it and a tshirt for $35. I think I want the one with Lincoln on it, but feel free to surprise me.

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I've never heard any of the music on this album. I have only the foggiest idea what the band sounds like. But I love the band's name, I love the way they dress, and I love the titles of their songs. What more do I need to know?

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Film:

Box sets are all the rage.

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Animation:

Bill Plympton's Mutant Aliens. Let me say that again: Bill Plympton's Mutant Aliens.

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The only reason not to own this is if your wife has a crush on Spike. But even then it's tempting.

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There are three of these collections out so far. I have none of them. Sort of makes you question the purpose of life, doesn't it?

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Television:

Ladies and gentlemen, presenting Space Ghost.

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Nematodes:

C'mon people, say it with me: Nee. Mah. Toads. You know you want some too.

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[Editor's note:Remember folks--Coast Guard Day comes but once each year!]

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