I think it's ill-advised to expand your mind when you're a bit depressed . . . it just makes more room for the depression. Mind-expanding stuff is often just plain depressing to begin with . . . no sense making things worse.
Better to go straight for mindless drivel. Especially if it's got a series, so it lasts longer. You wanted one, but I'll give you two. One romance (but the writing is very good) and one mystery. They're all funny.
Romance: Lynn Kurland's From this Moment On. Start with this one, as it does not depend on any of the others to make sense. It's also utterly non-depressing and charmingly funny.
Mystery: Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum, inept bounty hunter, series, begining with One for the Money.
Last edited by Lambchop on Sun Aug 07, 2005 2:13 pm, edited 4 times in total.
Nanohedron wrote:Where else can you come across words like "agogic" or "swarf" and not come away scratching your head?
The word is "smarf." I thought you would know better.
Best wishes,
Jerry
Swarf = the unwanted remnants of turnings left inside an instrument's bore after drilling tone or embouchure holes.
--James
P.S. Swarf gets discussed from time to time on the woodenflute mailing list. If memory serves, one person actually wrote a tune called "The Swarf in the Blow-Hole."
Nanohedron wrote:Where else can you come across words like "agogic" or "swarf" and not come away scratching your head?
The word is "smarf." I thought you would know better.
Best wishes,
Jerry
Swarf = the unwanted remnants of turnings left inside an instrument's bore after drilling tone or embouchure holes.
--James
P.S. Swarf gets discussed from time to time on the woodenflute mailing list. If memory serves, one person actually wrote a tune called "The Swarf in the Blow-Hole."
I'm quite certain you are incorrect. We had an extended discussion about this in another thread, and it was determined that the correct term is "smarf."
It's that place where my Grandma went when she visited California, years ago. Her brother-in-law, who lived out there, ordered her a shrimp cocktail, which to this day she refers to as "that stuff that looked like brains." She never went back to Fisherman Swarf.
Some of Naipaul's other books I have found to be very difficult and somewhat bitter in tone although worth the struggle. This one is not like that at all. It is a truly delightful story that can be read for pure pleasure.
It's that place where my Grandma went when she visited California, years ago. Her brother-in-law, who lived out there, ordered her a shrimp cocktail, which to this day she refers to as "that stuff that looked like brains." She never went back to Fisherman Swarf.
Very smarf Walden, very smarf
Slan,
D.
And many a poor man that has roved,
Loved and thought himself beloved,
From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.