Oh the hotness

Crank up the volume, kids, and watch Ma XiaoHui play the ehru. It's a violin with two strings, played with a bow between the strings.

She did a really fun interview with Robert Siegel the other night, and she does some fun stuff with the instruments.

What we're reading: Full Frontal Feminism by Jessica Valenti

I've learned a lot from Jessica Valenti over the past few years. Apart from my anonymously blogging friend Sassy Pants and my simply amazing friend Catherine Orland (and, of course, my mother, who had a hell of a head start on these ladies – though she is also amazing), I've learned more about human interaction from Valenti than most other people.

Valenti is one of the founding editors of the blog Feministing. (She wins points straightaway for turning a noun into a verb.) Her blog deals primarily with feminist issues, and it becomes painfully evident right away that there's no such thing as an issue that belongs to a single -ist.

Queer issues, class and poverty issues, racial issues, immigration, employment, religion, these are all feminist issues. They're also human issues. Funny how that works.

This is the most important thing I've learned from Valenti: I am a feminist.

I've given away my copy, but somewhere in or on Full Frontal Feminism, it says, "You're a feminist, I swear!"

And she's right. Pretty much everything in the book falls under the category of "common sense." You can't tell kids that condoms cause cancer then be shocked when they go off and have sex without condoms. You can't allow pharmacists to withhold emergency contraception and then be shocked when abortion rates rise.

It's not brain surgery. And the masses aren't stupid.

The one thing I can say I didn't (a) enjoy and (b) learn from in FFF is the language. Valenti has clearly aimed this book at people younger than me, and she uses a lexicon you're more likely to hear on high school and college campuses. Read: She has a potty typewriter. I'm no prude when it comes to language (really, sit with me for a meal – or worse, watch a football game with me), but when it comes to making a point, I'm strictly in the Kurt Vonnegut camp: every curse word is just another reason for someone not to listen to you.

The Stranger: Just one thing, Dude.
The Dude: Oh yeah, what's that?
The Stranger: Do you have to use so many cuss words?
The Dude: What the fuck are you talking about?
The Stranger: All right, Dude. Have it your way.

But there's no other reason I can name not to read Valenti's book. Especially with an election coming up. And while you're at it, make sure you're reading Feminsting at least twice a week (it's updated several times daily during the week, but I know you folks and daily commitment).

What we're reading: The Joke's Over by Ralph Steadman

In February of 2005, Hunter Stocton Thompson put one of his many guns in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

We knew the fucker was gonna go on his own terms.

The book Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is probably the most famous collaboration between the journalist Thompson and the artist Ralph Steadman. They first met covering the Kentucky Derby, Thompson a Kentucky bourbon that hadn't had enough time to mellow and Steadman a political and kind-but-corruptible Brit.

The partnership continued for about 35 years, through books and articles, through marriages, divorces, children, arguments, lawsuits, and more drugs and booze than two men should reasonably ingest (most of it Thompson, by the way).

The Joke's Over is Steadman's memoir of the pair's partnership.

It ain't pretty.

Not that this will surprise you, but Thompson was an exceedingly difficult man to work with. Difficult enough that Steadman is much stronger than I to have stuck it out for so many years.

For better or worse, Steadman is too gentlemanly to really let loose. He leaves Thompson's family and ghost with his dignity, and probably does the same for many of the other people who appear in the book.

But if you're like me, you'll want to read this book.

What Thompson taught the world I inhabit – that of journalism – is that a story doesn't stop being a story when you become a part of it. And if you were part of a story, you're important to the story – you shouldn't leave out your involvement and write a drier piece.

In other words, the world does not operate independently of those in it, and those in it are probably the ones best qualified to write about it.

Steadman's pen is so much more incisive than anything a camera ever did. His contribution to Thompson's world cannot be overlooked.

And that's what makes this book so interesting.

I would definitely recommend reading Fear and Loathing before reading this book. You could pull up some of the old Rolling Stone pieces the two did together, but I'm not sure they would give you enough of a precursor, especially given the icon the book has become.

What we're reading: Foreskin's Lament by Shalom Auslander

Shalom Auslander grew up in an ultra-orthodox Jewish community. These are the guys you see with the black hats, the black overcoats, the long beards and the sidecurls, with their wives and full litters of children in tow.

It's a mitzvah – a commandment – to procreate.

Auslander grew up in a world where men and women prayed separately, God was vengeful, and masturbation was absolutely, positively forbidden.

Also, because his first name, which translates to peace in English, is one of the names for God, he was not allowed to put his full name on tests, essays or anything else growing up. If he did, the test was placed immediately in a box with lots of other pieces of paper with God's name on them.

The box would then be given a proper burial. Because if you threw away a piece of paper with God's name on it, well, watch out.

Growing up, Auslander saw a great disconnect between what he learned in school and at home, and what he saw in the world outside.

Boys holding hands with girls. Wonderful magazines full of pictures of women wearing nothing. Slim Jims. Cheese-flavored Slim Jims.

I've never bought the idea of a vengeful God. Nor have I bought the idea of a humorless God. (As Kevin Smith says in the foreword to Dogma, "consider the platypus.")

In order for me to accept God, I have to think we can speak on the same level occasionally. Kind of like the God in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, who positively hates when people grovel.

How much, "oh, God, you are so great!" can one deity take before realizing people are blowing smoke up God's ass?

Anyway, Auslander agrees, but his upbringing is such that he's just not sure enough. He writes funny stories about God, and just when he has almost a full book of short stories written, he deletes the entire file off his hard drive, lest someone he know dies.

Because God would kill his wife, his son, his editor, his neighbor, whomever, just to torture Auslander.

When God lets Auslander's Rangers make it to the Stanley Cup finals and then presents Auslander with an opportunity to go to the game, it turns out it's on the Sabbath. So he and his wife trudge from their New Jersey home into Manhattan on foot, because God won't let them drive on the Sabbath.

When the Rangers lose the game, Auslander goes over to buy a non-kosher hot dog from a vendor across the way. When he pays for the dog with a $5 bill, his wife glares at him.

"You carried money on the Sabbath? That's why they lost!"

You get the idea. Auslander is funny, open, and better yet, he's a great conversational writer. The book is probably funnier if you're Jewish or have some knowledge of the community. And be aware that there is plenty of masturbation. Enough for me to have mentioned it twice in this post.

You've been warned.

What we're reading: The Know-It-All by A.J. Jacobs

A.J. Jacobs is jealous of his father.

His dad has a handful of degrees, twenty-something books to his name, and a schmoozer's ability to socialize.

A.J. is a germophobe, he's not particularly socially adept, and, let's face it, he's a giant nerd.

His dad one time set out to read the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica. He didn't get through it.

So A.J. decided he was going to.

And he did.

The Know-It-All details the younger Jacobs' roughly year-long journey through 44 million words over 33,000 pages of tiny type. He picks out interesting items and weaves in anecdotes from his life – his irritatingly intelligent brother-in-law, he and his wife's troubles trying to have a baby, his appearance on Who Wants to be a Millionaire?

Jacobs finds running themes – fetishes, famous people who marry their cousins, beheadings – and finds a disturbing number of entries that intersect his life at any given time.

The book is occasionally funny, frequently cheesy, and a great read that will teach you a lot of things you never knew you wanted to know. And also a lot of things you wish you didn't.

Also, it includes this quote from Horace Mann – twice – so be sure to read the book.

"Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity."

Unplugging at home

My life has become ridiculous kinds of complicated lately. I've been putting in overtime at work; I'm joining local organizations to boost my civic engagement; I'm doing more Web design and paper editing projects.

In my office job and in my freelance work, I spend a lot of time in front of a computer screen. When I was going home, I was spending more time in front of a computer screen, time in front of a television, and sometimes time in front of both.

I stopped writing entirely, and any time I sat down to write, I'd be distracted by e-mail, blogs, and a football game.

So I unplugged.

I called the cable company, and asked them to disconnect my television and Internet service. And my home phone, but that was secondary.

It's a lot more quiet in my house. I've been reading a lot. And I'm starting to write again – this here is proof of that.

And here's the kicker: I'm being more social. I have to be. I don't need to be online to write a blog post or design a Web page, but if I want to put either on the Web, I do have to be online. And now to be online, I have to go to a cafe. And that means that, even if it's one person, I have to talk to someone. So that's good.

If I want to watch a sporting event, I have to go to a bar that's showing it, and talk to people there.

If I want to watch a television show, I have to go to a friend's house and share it.

I could still plug my TV back in and watch a movie if I want, but I haven't wanted to.

What I've noticed in two weeks:

• My eyes aren't suffering as much strain as they used to
• I have less frequent headaches
• I'm talking a lot more softly and hearing a lot more loudly
• I'm listening to music
• Listening to radio shows and sporting events on the radio, I'm forced to use my imagination more, and that drives creativity
• I'm getting more exercise
• I'm exercising more will power
• I'm sleeping better
• I feel more in control over my body and my mind

Also, I'm saving about $120 a month, which can't be a bad thing, though I haven't had a month without that bill yet (the cable company swears my refund is coming for unused time, but I'm not holding my breath).

And you? How are you these days?