- I’ve added some little book recommendations over in the sidebar (thank you, Typepad support people) and will add a couple more as soon as they roll out the bug fix that was causing them not to show up (supposedly this week).
- Also, I’m almost caught up on just about everything. So, if I owe you something, you’ll get it soon.
- New Scientist thinks these five movies get the science right (or, at least, rightish). (Via.)
- I’ll be reading both of these: "Both Lerer and Marcus emphasize that these works — from picture books marinated in biblical ethics to, yes, the Harry Potter novels — were created by human beings with diverse and often contradictory motives. What a story these authors tell, of piratical moralists stealing each other’s ethical axioms and presenting them as their own, of librarians shouting that Nancy Drew mysteries were bad for education and morality. Despite this cacophony, writers have managed to produce such cherished feats of imagination as Alice and Huckleberry Finn, Charlotte’s Web and Little Women, a magical train station that rescues an orphaned boy and a secret garden in which a girl learns what it means to grow up. These new books remind us that children’s literature, which at the moment is flourishing and hugely influential, grows from as rich and ancient a heritage as any strand of world culture."
- Colleen points out that horse racing isn’t the only sport with animal casualties, taking a look at the current plight of sled dogs.
- Stephany Aulenback is not a baby eater: "Like a recovering addict, I recognize the beast within myself. Sometimes, though, I can get carried away with my adultetarian zeal. For instance, I have found that my personal ban on eating babies now seems to extend to miniature versions of foods, as well. Baby carrots and baby lettuce have recently joined baby potatoes on my list. Many otherwise innocuous h’ors d’oeuvres have also become off-limits – I can no longer eat mini-pizza, mini-quiches, or tiny pigs in blankets. I know intellectually that those tiny guinea hens are full-grown adults but when one is placed in front of me at a banquet my visceral reaction is a desperate attraction – my hands literally quiver over my fork and knife — followed by intense revulsion. I usually have to excuse myself in order to go throw up in the ladies room." Read the whole thing.
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