Based on the material available in this section, I’d venture to say that while Germanic languages aren’t the prettiest ones out there, they are often the most interesting. There’s the umlaut-loving Swedish, the melting-pot Afrikaans, the Tolkien-like Icelandic… I’ll never have enough time to learn them all, but were I to undergo a superhero origin story, I hope my heroic alter ego would be a polyglot.
The Dew3:
Born to Kvetch: Yiddish Language and Culture in All Its Moods
By Michael Wex
Dewey: 439.1
Random Sentence: “Men, women, and children: they drink, they fight, and they screw.”
Swedish: A Complete Course for Beginners
By Vera Croghan
Dewey: 439.782421
Random Sentence: “Vad kostar tomaterna?”
Colloquial Afrikaans: The Complete Course for Beginners
By B.C. Donaldson
Dewey: 439.3682421
Random Sentence: “Ek het vanoggend brood gekoop.”
Flower Power, a photo series from photographer Sophie Gamand, aims to portray pit bulls in a different light and captures the sweet, loving dog beneath the oft-misunderstood exterior:
Victims of prejudices, uneducated laws and urban tales that associate them with ultra violence, they are probably the most misunderstood dogs. Pit bulls, like any terrier dogs, are strong and powerful animals. There is no denying that. But power does not necessarily mean violence. Most pit bulls are peaceful and sweet love bugs. Their power is in their snuggles and unconditional love.
While I know a little Spanish, English is (obvs) my primary language. And what a weird language it is. I’m so glad I didn’t have to learn it later in life, because in some ways it makes no sense. Especially pronunciation: this well-known poem illustrates that well. But because it’s second nature to me, it’s hard to tell how English stacks up against other languages vis a vis difficulty in grammar and pronunciation, logical spelling, and poetic beauty. I certainly enjoy writing in English, though I often wish all those silent letters—like in its buddy French—could die. Isn’t tho much better, prettier, and more sensical than though? That superfluous ugh is just… Ugh….
The Dew3:
I Love It When You Talk Retro: Hoochie Coochie, Double Whammy, Drop A Dime, and the Forgotten Origins of American Speech
By Ralph Keyes
Dewey: 422
Random Sentence: “Rutabaga is funny. Potatoes aren’t.”
Death Sentences: How Clichés, Weasel Words, and Management-speak Are Strangling Public Language
By Don Watson
Dewey: 428
Random Sentence: “You are trapped in the language like a parrot in a cage.”
An Exaltation of Larks: The Ultimate Edition
By James Lipton
Dewey: 428.1
Random Sentence: “So, Mr. Safire, how about a phumpher of schwas?”
Regarding the post title: what did you expect? This is a section all about words! (Plus I love pasta.) But just look at this beautiful list of literary terms. I’ve heard of probably 10% of them, but I wish to know them all, to hug them tenderly and use them liberally in my own writing and speech. Any other word nerds out there? My logophilia is partly inherited (my late grandfather loved crosswords and learning languages throughout his life), but it’s also a learned love, facilitated by reading more and more things in increasingly diverse genres and forms.
I want to give a special shout-out to the first of the Dew3 picks: it’s pure punctuation porn for weirdos like me who could admire various punctuation marks all day. In fact, I now have plans for the weekend…
The Dew3:
Shady Characters: The Secret Life of Punctuation, Symbols & Other Typographical Marks
By Keith Houston
Dewey: 411
Random Sentence: “Case closed ;)”
Is That A Fish in Your Ear? Translation and the Meaning of Everything
By David Bellos
Dewey: 418.02
Random Sentence: “For your aches / Carat cakes / Are the cure.”
Bastard Tongues: A Trailblazing Linguist Finds Clues to Our Common Humanity in the World’s Lowliest Languages
By Derek Bickerton
Dewey: 417.2
Random Sentence: “Wolf has taken daddy, gone, and eaten him.”
The Master of death will come soon enough—and perhaps we can already hear His footsteps. There is no need to forestall His hour nor to fear it. When He enters into us to destroy, as it seems, the virtues and the forces that we have distilled with so much loving care out of the sap of the world, it will be as a loving fire to consummate our completion in union. —The Divine Milieu
There’s a well-known exchange in the documentary Bowling for Columbine wherein Michael Moore interviews Marilyn Manson about politics, media culture, and his supposed influence on Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, the perpetrators of the Columbine shooting. Pretty quickly after the 1999 tragedy, Manson’s violent lyrics, “trenchcoat mafia” look, and anti-authoritarian attitude were scorned by parents and politicians, and the man himself was made a primary scapegoat for the carnage done by two troubled teens. Moore asks Manson what he would say to them if he could have talked to them directly: “I wouldn’t say a single word to them,” Manson said. “I’d listen to what they have to say. That’s what no one did.”
Wise words from a surprising source. I thought of them after seeing Calvary, the new film from John McDonaugh. (Here be spoilers, natch.) The film begins with Father James (Brendan Gleeson), pastor of a small Irish parish, listening in a confession booth to something startling: a mystery parishioner, abused by a priest as a child, threatens to kill him—an innocent priest—as payment for the sins of the Church. The man tells Father James to settle his affairs, make his peace with God, and meet him on the beach in a week’s time. Father James doesn’t fight back, call the police, or flee: he listens, letting the heavy words sink in, and then embarks on his allotted week bearing a new and heavy cross.
But it’s a burden, it becomes clear, he must bear alone. His fellow parish priest (a nervous, judgmental type) doesn’t share Father James’s relative serenity, earned from his pre-priesthood life. As a layman, I’d imagine, Father James experienced the same loss, doubt, and other common plagues of the soul; it’s what makes him unlike the other priests, “too smart” for this parish as one woman puts it and yet faithful enough to abide in it. Yet even as a priest he’s still a sinner, struggling with alcohol and the desire to flee. His parishioners aren’t a reliable source of inspiration or support, their interactions with Father James throughout the week ranging from tepid respect to outright scorn. And his adult daughter, visiting after a botched suicide attempt, struggles to reconcile her father’s new pastoral role with his lack of paternal guidance in the wake of her mother’s death. He’s trying his best with the deck stacked against him, the trauma of the Catholic church sex abuse scandal still fresh for his wary flock.
Simultaneously, Father James tries to deduce his would-be killer’s identity. Like many whodunits, most of the players in his life are suspects: is it the cuckolded town butcher he confronted about beating his wife? the pompous, grandiloquent millionaire whose support he spurned? the sarcastic male prostitute who’s contemptuous of the Church? or the nihilistic doctor hardened by the suffering around him? Father James fields each of these parishioners’ caustic commentaries —against him, the Church, or whatever else travails them. He listens, but also wearies. The parade of sin feels too long, too hopelessly unredeemable. As King Theodin remarks in The Return of the King, “What can men do against such reckless hate?”
And what can we do? Marilyn Manson’s response aside, I doubt merely sitting down with the Columbine killers and listening to them would have persuaded them not to commit their heinous crimes. So for as much as Father James listens patiently to the troubles of his congregants, there’s not much he can do. He can administer absolution, sure, but only to the penitent, of which there are few. But now, with a very real target on his back, the time for talk is over: what is he to do?
Calvary winds through Father James’ (final?) week with that question in mind. It’s Gleeson’s charisma as an actor that keeps things steady throughout this tumultuous journey. Gleeson teems with soulful presence and hard-won wisdom. This differs greatly from his role as Sgt. Boyle in The Guard (also directed by McDonaugh) yet still retains a similar good-heartedness. McDonaugh brings the celestial themes of sin, sacrifice, and redemption back down to earth in this darkly comic story, in a community that really could be anyone’s. It’s a welcome relief from the spate of sterile, overtly “Christian” films that proselytize more than ponder, that make good sermons but usually not good art. Calvary is good art because it isn’t sterile; it’s not afraid to get dirty, to search for truth and beauty in the muck of faith on earth. With life and death as the stakes, Calvary’s search is on indeed.
Gotta admit this up front: I friggin’ love words. As an English major, a writer, a reader—pick the reason. I love them so much that I keep a list of cool words I’ve encountered that I want to remember. (*pushes up glasses*) So I’m embarking on the 400s with great vim and ebullience. Though, curiously, I’ve thus far restrained myself from owning a physical dictionary, mostly because I can’t decide which version I should have. Plus, with the OED and Merriam-Webster adding new words every year, it would soon be out of date. And I gotta have ALL THE WORDS if I have a book of them. (Erin McKean’s TEDTalk on this topic is a great one if you’re interested. And who wouldn’t be?!)
Regardless, I’m pumped—nay, aflutter—to go through this section and see all the lexical gold we will find. Shall we?
The Dew3:
A Little Book of Language
By David Crystal
Dewey: 400
Random Sentence: “The Smiths will be in their clarence.”
The Way We Talk Now: Commentaries on Language and Culture From NPR’s “Fresh Air”
By Geoffrey Nunberg
Dewey: 400
Random Sentence: “They don’t hear a lot of resemblances to Angelina Jolie, either.”
The Infinite Gift: How Children Learn and Unlearn the Languages of the World
By Charles Yang
Dewey: 401.93
Random Sentence: “It would have been fun to know what Adam and Eve said to each other in Africa.”
I watched the 2011 film version of Jane Eyre and instantaneously documented my unvarnished initial thoughts and reactions. I’ve never read the original book, nor know anything about the story, so it’s entirely fresh to me.
“What is hell?” the headmaster asks Jane. A pit of fire, she replies. But she really knew, as others have discovered, that hell is other people.
The schoolmarm pauses her whipping of another girl in class as the headmaster enters. “It is your mission to render her contrite and self-denying,” he says. “Continue.” Woo boy, this is gonna get ugly.
396 No longer used—formerly Women’s position and treatment
397 No longer used—formerly outcast studies
398 Folklore
399 Customs of war & diplomacy
This section is a bit of a grab-bag. I suppose customs, etiquette, and folklore fit together under the broad category of culture, but on the shelves this looks like that one drawer in the kitchen where you throw all that miscellaneous crap that doesn’t have a standard space, like rubber bands and capless pens and scrap paper. Not at all discounting the value of these topics—because how could we live without Emily Post telling us how to behave?!—but clearly some sections are better synthesized and meant to be than others. But that’s why we love Dewey, right? There’s a reason for everything (theoretically… we hope…) so we best try to understand why.
Or these books just needed to be somewhere.
The Dew3:
Breakfast: A History
By Heather Arndt
Dewey: 394.1252
Random Sentence: “For those wanting even less human contact for their meal, there were the automats.”
Would It Kill You to Stop Doing That?: A Modern Guide to Manners
By Henry Alford
Dewey: 395
Random Sentence: “I have benign hand tumors, so don’t worry.”
Every Tongue Got to Confess: Negro Folktales From the Gulf States
By Zora Neale Hurston
Dewey: 398.208996073
Random Sentence: “Tom told his wife, ‘Tell God I’m not here.’”
Honestly, I was surprised by how intrigued I was by this section. Typically I’m not one to fall for anything relating to commerce, but I’m officially coming back to this section to find stuff for my to-read shelf. As represented by the Dew3 picks below, I’m often fascinated by how systems, especially concrete and/or historical, come into being. So while I wouldn’t care much for systems of thought or abstract things, I’m all over the Transcontinental Railroad and space transportation, despite my highly limited knowledge of engineering. Or perhaps it’s because of that lack of knowledge that I’m interested. Knowledge rocks! As do trains!
The Dew3:
The Master Switch: The Rise and Fall of Information Empires
By Tim Wu
Dewey: 384
Random Sentence: “Is Google destined to arrive at its Napoleonic moment?”
Nothing Like It in the World: The Men Who Built the Transcontinental Railroad, 1863-1869
By Stephen Ambrose
Dewey: 385.0973
Random Sentence: “This was hard work, dangerous and claustrophobic.”
The Big Roads: The Untold Story of the Engineers, Visionaries, and Trailblazers Who Created the American Superhighways
By Earl Swift
Dewey: 388.122
Random Sentence: “Even by his standards, he was stinking rich.”
I was an intern at a large advertising agency last summer. One day I was at my desk when a fellow intern stopped by. “Robin Williams is here,” he said. Ha ha, I thought. Probably just trying to prank others interns. “No really,” he said. “He’s on the next floor up.”
We had heard that he was there to research advertising firms for his then-upcoming CBS show The Crazy Ones (which was canceled after a season) so of course we got curious. My desk mate Marie and I went on the hunt, nervous yet excited about the prospect of meeting a Real Celebrity. We ran up the stairs and wandered the cubes, looking for one of the most recognizable people on earth. We came upon a corner office and saw him standing by the wall talking to someone. There weren’t many people around yet, probably because he’d been on the move and incognito. But as we bashfully approached the door, he noticed us and graciously welcomed us in.
Soon a crowd gathered, eager to get face time with the man we all loved from something. When Marie approached, she mentioned she was from France and he immediately began speaking fluent French with her as I took their picture with my phone. I’d decided that I wouldn’t get a picture with him, but I did want to shake his hand. But since I’d followed the French speaking, I said, “I’m not that exotic, but I would like to shake your hands. Thanks for everything you do.” To my dying day I will regret not telling him how rockin’ his beard was. But I’m sure he knew.
We slid past the throbbing crowd and back to our desks, reveling in the brief encounter with a legend and telling the other interns the news.
I’ve often thought about that moment, especially now that Robin has died. But I think most often not about shaking his hand, but about when he welcomed us in, knowing that yet again a crowd would develop and he’d have to hold court in that conference room for yet another round of autographs and pictures and forced conversation. To be sure, conversation never seemed forced with Robin; he always seemed to be the one fueling it with zany antics, spot-on impressions, or even heartfelt monologues. He appeared highly skilled at working the room, person by person. Yet no matter how extroverted a person is, taking the time to do that Lord knows how often has got to be draining. I’m grateful for his willingness to welcome it, for taking time for everyone there, and in every situation when celebrity duty calls. But it’s a duty I wouldn’t want for myself, and it pains me to ponder how heavy that burden feels for people who already struggle with the weight of life in general.
No one can really understand the inner turmoil that led to his demise. There were outward signs that he’s been open about, like his drug and alcohol addictions, but clearly (as always) there was more going on. It’s not our place to speculate, only to mourn and to continue living, that we may contribute a verse.
371 School management; special education; alternative education
372 Elementary education
373 Secondary education
374 Adult education
375 Curriculums
376 No longer used—formerly Education of women
377 No longer used—formerly Ethical education
378 Higher education
379 Government regulation, control, support
A fitting section to happen upon as we approach back-to-school season. It’s a time of year that is bittersweet for me: while I do miss the camaraderie and intellectual rigor of being in school, I don’t miss BSing papers, having to take math, and the peaks and valleys of semester after semester of different work. But every trip to Target these days brings all this back, especially seeing all those school supplies that would be on the list every year but that I would never use. I mean, who uses hole-punch reinforcement stickers?
Anyway, this section goes out to all those teachers returning from the sunny beach and getting back into the classroom to prepare for another year. I had a handful of terrible teachers in my day, but also some great ones. Here’s hoping for your kids’ sake that you’re the latter.
The Dew3:
How Lincoln Learned to Read: Twelve Great Americans and the Educations That Made Them
By Daniel Wolff
Dewey: 370.973
Random Sentence: “He’d sworn off that, but there was this: this hunt for ideas.”
True Notebooks: A Writer’s Year at Juvenile Hall
By Mark Salzman
Dewey: 373.11
Random Sentence: “You stealin’ my chips?”
Be Honest: And Other Advice from Students Across the Country
Edited by Ninive Calegari
Dewey: 371.8
Random Sentence: “You are not our last salvation.”
361 “General social problems”? Really, Dewey? There could (and probably should) be an entire library filled with books in that subclass. But as has been the case with the previous 300s sections, this one gets FascinationPoints™ for dealing with people themselves: the good, the bad, the insane, the pathological, the criminal… We contain multitudes, we humans and our psyches, and it’s all pretty well represented here. So dive in, if you dare, to the Human Experience. Hope you brought a swimming suit because you’re about to get drenched by humanity.
The Dew3:
Devil in the Details: Scenes From An Obsessive Girlhood
By Jennifer Traig
Dewey: 362.196852
Random Sentence: “Instead of tights, I had Torah.”
The Kid: What Happened After My Boyfriend and I Decided to Go Get Pregnant: An Adoption Story
By Dan Savage
Dewey: 362.73408664
Random Sentence: “I took some more codeine.”
Catch Me If You Can
By Frank Abagnale
Dewey: 364.163
Random Sentence: “After that I was flying kites.”
Time to rally ‘round the flag, sound the horns, and charge into the stacks to do battle with the many books in the 350s. As a Yankee-bred Union man, I’m partial to “The Battle Cry of Freedom” but realize my counterparts below the Mason-Dixon line might prefer the equally catchy but mightily more incendiary “Dixie.” (Whichever one you pick, rest assured that people will judge you for it.)
While the Civil War is the prototypical American military story, you’ll have to head to the 900s to get history on that: this section tackles the armed forces themselves in all their diversity (as well as “public administration,” whatever that means). I’m not much of a military buff. I’m probably most familiar with World War II, whether because my familial connection to it through my grandpa or the plethora of popular and academic readings and pop-culture renderings of it. While I can’t say I’m glad that there’s a lot of interest in the armed forces, it’s certainly a huge part of American culture, and human nature for that matter.
The Dew3:
Badass Ultimate Deathmatch: Skull-crushing True Stories of the Most Hardcore Duels, Showdowns, Fistfights, Last Stands, Suicide Charges, and Military Engagements of All Time
By Ben Thompson
Dewey: 355.0092
Random Sentence: “I think we can all see that this is pretty messed up.”
The Troopers: An Informal History of the Plains Cavalry, 1865-1890
By S.E. Whitman
Dewey: 357.10973
Random Sentence: “Nor could the Republicans duck.”
The Heart and the Fist: The Education of A Humanitarian, the Making of A Navy SEAL
By Eric Greitens
Dewey: 359.984
Random Sentence: “It’s death. There is no prize for 2nd place.”
I’ve seen a face I won’t soon forget. It’s the face of an unsure redemption, of grace on the upswing. Of counting tenuous steps as tiny miracles. This face is a freshly washed used car whose surface is clean again, but whose frame within still carries the weather and rust. It’s a face leading a journey from point A to point B, its body taking those tenuous steps perhaps not for the first time, but nevertheless in abject terror. It’s a good thing this face is flexible, for its pieces can come together to form a portrait that is more pleasing and assured than the muddled innards it covers. A stoic smile, forward gaze, hopeful laughter—all evidence that the gears are turning still, that the car may be well used and probably unsellable but it is still a car on the move.
The face, you can see, is a powerful thing. I saw this power in the library the other day, on the train two years ago, and in the movie This Is Martin Bonner.
The man in the library came to the desk, to-go coffee cup in hand, with a question. “Where are your books about Alcoholics Anonymous?” I checked the catalog to see what we had in the stacks and we walked to 362, Social Welfare Problems & Services. “I have a meeting in an hour nearby and I just wanted something to read until then,” he said as I scanned the spines for what he wanted. A meeting? Oh. A meeting. He was unashamed to show that he meant AA, that these books weren’t for “a friend” or his mother. He was drinking coffee, going to the library, and then going to a meeting, all to make himself better. And he had that face in front of it all: sober in every way, clear-eyed, pragmatically hopeful, still emerging from the darkness but happy to do so.
I saw the same face on another man, but without the pat assurances of redemption. On a late train home I saw him sitting alone, he and I the only remaining riders in the barreling train car. His workman’s books, rugged jeans, and thick jacket told of hardy work and long days. His near-bald head was greyed along the sides, and his face—the face—was wrinkled by age and strain. But his eyes (isn’t it always the eyes?) told the rest of the story. They saw far beyond the train car he was riding with me through the darkness. They projected a hopeful vision of the near future, when he would leave the train and take a bus (or walk, or drive) to his final destination, a place that seemed especially trepidatious tonight. Whom was he going to see, and why? An estranged daughter he had wounded in too many ways? An ex-wife he wanted to win back? Whoever it was, they had his full attention. He clutched spiral notebooks, unfolding them now and again to sneak a peek, then closing them and trying to send his attention elsewhere. It was as if he had written carefully chosen remarks in those notebooks, a long-time-coming speech that would need to rectify whatever he was carrying that night from his past toward his approaching future. If his face indicated anything, it was his doubt of success. His fidgety hands preempted any attempt his face made to tell anything but the truth. And the truth was, as I saw it, he was terrified.
I saw the face, too, in Chad Hartigan’s This Is Martin Bonner (2013), a serene and sure film about two men with a faith problem. Martin, a recently bankrupt former church business manager, is a volunteer coordinator for a religious non-profit that prepares inmates for life on the outside through a strenuous work program. The film opens with Martin pitching an inmate on joining the program, which emphasizes rebuilding the prisoners’ “commitment to community.” The inmate balks at this prospect: “What’s in it for me?” he asks with an edge.
Martin, it seems, could ask the same thing. Divorced, separated from his adult children, working for an organization whose faith he no longer holds, he gets through each lonely day with the face we have all worn at some point—the one that says I don’t know, but I’m trying. He buys art at auction and on eBay to decorate his barren abode. He attends (at his daughter’s behest) a speed-dating event despite strong reluctance and low expectations. He sits through a promotional video filled with earnest testimonials extolling the virtues of the inmate rehabilitation program, his stoic face belying his spiritual ennui.
Yet through all of this he becomes an unlikely refuge for Travis, a freshly paroled convict whom Martin picks up from prison. They go to a cafe and Travis tastes good coffee for the first time in years. It’s here we see in Travis’ face the dim light of renewal starting to emerge, the kindling dawn that trails a long, dark night. His face, cautious and humble, tells tales learned the hard way and behind bars as only small graces like good coffee can trigger. His past self—convicted of vehicular manslaughter twelve years ago—is gone. He has a new self now, but for what?
Travis dines with his assigned mentor, who in Travis’s words is “very Christian,” well-meaning and friendly but uncomfortably certain of his role as God’s disciple. When Martin and Travis meet again, Travis shares this with Martin and asks him, only half-jokingly, if he’s “very Christian” too.
“I’ve got a degree in theology and worked for the church for many years,” Martin deadpans.
“I should have known,” says Travis, resigned to more proselytizing.
“But that shouldn’t mean anything,” Martin replies. “I had what you call a ‘crisis of faith’ a few years ago. I woke up one Sunday morning and I didn’t want to go to church anymore. I felt I’d sacrificed enough of my life to God, and I didn’t want to do it anymore. So I woke up selfish and it hasn’t gone away.”
“So you quit the church?”
“No. I got fired for getting divorced.”
“And you still wanted to work for a Christian organization?”
“Frankly, Travis, they were the only people who would hire me. I applied for a manager’s position at Starbucks and couldn’t get an interview.”
I don’t know, but I’m trying.
Every day provides new opportunities for these men to struggle for tiny victories, for just a flicker of light to illuminate their darkened paths. Martin struggles to connect (quite literally) with his adult son, who for some reason won’t return Martin’s many calls. Finally, Martin receives a gift in the mail: a painting from his son, which might as well have been an olive branch. Similarly, Travis strives toward redemption in a meeting with his estranged daughter, who in his decade-long absence has grown into a young woman who doesn’t know her father. The conversation is awkward, stilted, each fumbling to connect with someone they know ought to love but can’t, at least not right now. Travis, desperate for his new life to begin, wants to make up for lost time, but his daughter, though willing to have a relationship, still wants to take it slow.
I don’t know, but I’m trying.
I could be wrong about these men and their faces. I don’t know their lives truly. Perhaps I saw what I wanted to see, and projected onto their faces stories I wanted to believe but didn’t know for sure were true. I was happy for the man killing time in the library before another chair circle, another Serenity Prayer, and another day in the struggle, but I could be wrong about him. I was hopeful for the man on the train whose destination I did not know but whose sincerity in getting there was evident, but I could be wrong about him too. And I was glad to see the two men in This Is Martin Bonner find each other as they traversed with fear and trembling the tightrope between faith and doubt, but perhaps another viewer would see in them something entirely different.
Favorite courtroom drama? 12 Angry Men, hands down. I’m also a sucker for Aaron Sorkin’s smooth, laser-fast writing in A Few Good Men and the politically hokey yet dramatic flair of Runaway Jury. But we’re talking about real law, aren’t we. In that case, I suppose it’s time for a serious, substantive discussion about 347 Civil Procedure & Courts or 349 Law of Specific Jurisdictions & Areas. Anyone? Bueller? That’s what I thought.
Law (and I’m sure most lawyers would agree, though don’t litigate me on this because I have zero evidence to back it up) is way more boring in real life than in the movies. And what isn’t? I’m much rather watch Tom Cruise cruise his way through witty monologues than listen to civil attorneys drone on about procedure and precedent in cases from before the Civil War. Am I being unfair? Sue me.
(Please don’t sue me.)
The Dew3:
Plain, Honest Men: The Making of the American Constitution
By Richard Beeman
Dewey: 342.7302
Random Sentence: “Without naming it, Wilson was calling for the creation of an electoral college.”
Don’t Pee on My Leg and Tell Me It’s Raining: America’s Toughest Family Court Judge Speaks Out
By Judy Scheindlin
Dewey: 346.7470150269
Random Sentence: “This is not Let’s Make A Deal, and I’m not Marty Hall!”
The Nine: Inside the Secret World of the Supreme Court
By Jeffrey Toobin
Dewey: 347.7326
Random Sentence: “He dominated the arguments to an almost embarrassing degree.”
There’s new quarterback drama in Green Bay this season that will likely quicken the blood flow through the cheese-clogged arteries of Packers fans like me. We are lucky that it does not involve the health status of Aaron Rodgers, who looks yet again ready to conquer the league. Rather, it involves whether Brett Favre will be booed when he returns to Lambeau Field for the first time as a retired player.
He won’t be.
The man himself acknowledges this (or at least hopes for it), saying he’s not worried about being booed for leaving and playing for the Vikings because “I’m well aware that you can’t please everyone. Not everyone’s going to like you regardless, and you know what, so be it. But I think the 16 years that I had in Green Bay speaks for itself.” Of course, Favre was booed when he returned to Lambeau as a Viking in 2009, and under the circumstances understandably so. But those hard feelings have softened considerably since then. Why?
Because absence makes Packers fans’ hearts grow Favrer. Since the Man of Mississippi left in 2008, the team has enjoyed a Super Bowl victory, an all-star quarterback with a strong backing crew, and a long string of successful seasons; how can Packers fans not be happy? And now that Favre has been away from the game for three full seasons after a checkered post-Packers denouement, reuniting feels all the more desirable. It’s also inevitable, given the unanimous consent for Favre’s entrance into the Hall of Fame in 2016.
I think all parties involved in 2008’s acrimonious split—Favre, the Packers organization, and especially the fans—long for restoration. When I think of Favre I want to think about the 2008 divisional playoff game against the Seahawks, the audible to Andre Rison in Super Bowl XXXI, the Oakland game, and the prankster. Sure, he also brings with him the interceptions, the occasional scuzziness, and 4th-and-26. But when the prodigal son returns home, you don’t demand a confession or rehash grievances. You celebrate. You remember that football is just a game, and that players are people too.
And you, if you’re like me, eagerly anticipate Bart Starr, Brett Favre, and Aaron Rodgers standing together for the first time for a long-overdue photo-op. Packers Nation, let’s hope this happens soon.
Gotta be honest: I was not expecting to find as many interesting books in this section as I did. Like another theoretical principle involving numbers, economics scares me. (I do take great pleasure in the good work of the people at Planet Money, whose mission is to speak plainly about the economy so number-dumb English majors like me can understand what’s going on in the world.) But when I saw what “land economics” meant book-wise (essentially, how to take care of nature) and that “public finance” isn’t quite as mind-numbing as it sounds (yet I’ll still leave it to the financiers—try not to crash the world economy again!), I felt encouraged. There’s plenty to be bored by here, as with most sections, but also more than meets the perusing eye.
The Dew3:
John Muir and the Ice That Started A Fire: How A Visionary and the Glaciers of Alaska Changed America
By Kim Heacox
Dewey: 333.72
Random Sentence: “His stout muffled body seemed all one skipping muscle.”
A Sand County Almanac: With Other Essays on Conservation From Round River
By Aldo Leopold
Dewey: 333.72
Random Sentence: “There is a peculiar virtue in the music of elusive birds.”
Belching Out the Devil: Global Adventures With Coca-Cola
By Mark Thomas
Dewey: 338.766362
Random Sentence: “Are you a porn star?”
