Don’t you ever kinda wish that the world would just stop?
That the band would pack up, and the curtain would drop?
It’s funny how many messages I got on Facebook too, and from some of the oddest people. People I’ve not spoken to in years.
It’s also quite funny the people I haven’t heard from.
…This is the country that produced Ernest Rutherford, the man who split the atom and Edmund Hillary the man who first stood on the peak of Mount Everest. This is the first democracy to give women the vote. Despite the sheep jokes this is as sophisticated, progressive and forward looking a nation-state as exists in the world, its population of a mere four million or so punching hugely above their weight in almost every field of endeavour.
The harnessing of the remarkable talents of Sirs Peter Jackson and Richard Taylor created the Wellywood phenomenon. James Cameron had to come to Wellington to make Avatar because, quite simply, there weren’t the technical facilities or expertise anywhere else in the world. New Zealand is a most astonishingly beautiful country, the people are friendly and charming, though I wouldn’t want to be in a ruck or a maul with them on a rugby field. They’re outdoorsy but lack the brashness that can be found (attractively in its own way) in Australia. Modest, welcoming, zoologically and botanically unique, there are few places in the world where I feel more at home than kiwiland…” —Stephen Fry on New Zealand (via codyshuttleworth)
- Dad: They've just said on the news that one in six children aged between six and sixteen don't own a book.
- Me: I know, it's tragic isn't it?
- Dad: It's because you've got them all.
I’ve read 9 books this year, so far, and that already seems not nearly enough, despite it actually being (on average), a book every 6.3 days. That’s a very vague average though, since one took an hour and one took two and a half weeks.
So now I’m stuck with choosing another one because I whipped through the ninth in two days. I can’t read another Christie since I just finished one, and I run the risk of author fatigue. Before that, it was two end-of-the-world sort of novels, so I want something positive.
Since I don’t have work this week, I should really start on one of the heftier tomes, as I won’t have to lug it about for a while. But while I do want to read Next and The Book Thief, I’ve attempted both before and given up, and this puts me off. I don’t want non-fiction particularly, which rules out a further three. House of Leaves requires more concentration than I’m prepared to give it right now. There’s a big thick book of short stories to do, but short stories can get tiresome can’t they? Which leaves possibly The Islanders? Or should I read something that has been sitting around waiting for much longer than two months?
Then of course there’s a few books I want to re-read, but can I justify that?
At the end of the day, none of this matters a jot. I’m just musing out loud and wondering why this is such a hard decision. Maybe I should just start going through in alphabetical order.