oops! it seems i tripped and dropped several million free books, papers, and other resources
Tag: reading
I was an English major but never read Moby Dick until I start tomorrow morning. Will I regret this.
“As for reading, I wish I had a magic door to a library where I could go in, read for days and days, and come back in the same minute I left. I’m still looking for the door.”
―David Mitchell
A reading on the train simulator would require:
- Train sway rocker base upon which is bolted two standard passenger train seats, one to sit on and one ahead of that seat to glance at occasionally
- Train sway must be programmed for random jostles and jolts
- Acceleration and deceleration simulation with the seat rocker as the train simulation stops at programmed points in the simulation
- Monitor in place of a window on the right side with 4K 60FPS day and night loops of passing neighborhoods and vistas as viewed from the upper level of a two-level passenger train
- Air conditioner flowing past constantly, ensuring warmth never occurs during the simulated train ride
- Faux train interior dressing for the left and front views of the participant viewing area to ensure immersion during the reading experience
- Speaker system
- Train conductor voice recordings of upcoming stations with appropriate level of poor speaker system muffling
- Programmed cessation of seat jostling during scheduled stops
- Random stops and conductor announcements of an obstruction on the tracks
- Nice to have: an entire passenger train car in which the simulator is constructed, thereby maximizing immersion and eliminating the need for set dressing
Reading Goosebumps books in which the protagonists are always 12 years old got me thinking about that age. It’s marked by a single experience.
Sometime near the end of the sixth grade school year, we were all lounging about in class, including the teacher. It was late in the school day. The distinct orange glare of the afternoon sun bathed the classroom in that hazy light that makes it hard to concentrate on classwork anyway.
Most students were just hanging out and chatting, which does feel like the kind of rare opportunity any kid would take advantage of when most of class is structured and quiet. But for some reason, I decided it was a good time to sit and read a book. I can’t tell you what had me so engrossed but I was truly gone in this book, having developed this ability to shut out the world and focus on the story in front of me. I sat there reading and failed to notice that the classroom had suddenly gone quiet. They sat enraptured as a girl whose name I forget approached me, slowly it seems, waited for the right moment, then briefly sat on my lap before exploding into laughter along with everyone else in the class. She blushed and got up right away, but the laughter rolled on, including from my teacher’s desk. Besides a sense of shock in the moment, I don’t remember my own reaction. I can only assume I put the book away and whiled away the rest of the afternoon until class was over.
Not coincidentally, I remember losing interest in reading books around then and through all of middle school. I don’t know if this experience really made me stop reading, but I’m sure it was a brick in the wall built mostly by puberty.
I saw a Tweet some time back in which someone realized that they enjoyed reading, writing, and thinking about video games more than actually playing them. At the time I balked, but as I continue my forays into research I’m starting to see their point. Playing a video game just takes so much time! And so does researching anything. So something’s gotta give and for the time being I’m letting my academic side go nuts.
Books were a way to get out of my own head. I’d come to rely on alcohol for that, and after I stopped drinking, I felt trapped in myself. … A number of resources for the newly sober encourage people to revisit the activities they enjoyed as a kid, and that turned out to be really valuable for me. (Turns out I still love drawing, reading, and making clothes!)
I’ve sought out two stories based entirely on their art being featured in Tumblr posts.
The first is the short story “Snake Head” by Lynda Leidiger, featured in the October 1979 issue of Playboy. I purchased said issue, then later also found the story in The New Generation: Fiction for Our Time from America’s Writing Programs from 1987 and purchased that as well. I’ve lost the link to the original Tumblr post but suffice to say they sold me on the story.
The second is the recently Tumblr’ed novel Altered Egos by Kenneth Girard from 1983. It was the creepy dummy that compelled me to find it.
I’m only partway into Altered Egos and I can’t help but notice a parallel. Both stories feature women who are seemingly possessed by powers beyond their reckoning. Both protagonists are stuck in situations manipulated by more powerful men. Both characters use lifeless, anthropomorphized objects to express some dissatisfaction with what ought to be, and in the process discover some aspects of themselves that they were incapable of expressing before.
Simple connections, meaningless happenstance. Something compelling to think about.
I’ve sought out two stories based entirely on their art being featured in Tumblr posts.
The first is the short story “Snake Head” by Lynda Leidiger, featured in the October 1979 issue of Playboy. I purchased said issue, then later also found the story in The New Generation: Fiction for Our Time from America’s Writing Programs from 1987 and purchased that as well. I’ve lost the link to the original Tumblr post but suffice to say they sold me on the story.
The second is the recently Tumblr’ed novel Altered Egos by Kenneth Girard from 1983. It was the creepy dummy that compelled me to find it.
I’m only partway into Altered Egos and I can’t help but notice a parallel. Both stories feature women who are seemingly possessed by powers beyond their reckoning. Both protagonists are stuck in situations manipulated by more powerful men. Both characters use lifeless, anthropomorphized objects to express some dissatisfaction with what ought to be, and in the process discover some aspects of themselves that they were incapable of expressing before.
Simple connections, meaningless happenstance. Something compelling to think about.
Starfleet guys who just wanna read a book in sex paradise.