Baby Got Books

From completely out in left field, a heartbreaking, shocking, but oddly compelling way to spend a few minutes is a visit to FeralChildren.

This quasi-reputable site is a catalog of children who were, in fact, raised by wolves, among other fauna. (There is actually a reference to a child raised by an ostrich, who I believe is now the leader of the free world.) It’s surprisingly well put together and comprehensive, and is simply chock-o-block with “you gotta be shitting me” stories that range from fascinating (the wolf children who walked on all fours and howled each night to be let out to hunt) to gut wrenching (a Los Angeles girl who was confined to a chair in a darkened room, with virtually no human contact, for 13 years.)

Now, obviously, I can’t vouch for the authenticity of any of these stories, but true or not, there’s some good reading to be found here.

A friend just sent me this link to a Ga. Tech student’s blog about her recent experience at a dook game. I commend it to all college hoops fans–especially those in the babygotbookserati who’ve drunk the blueberry kool-aid.

Believe it or not, this picture was taken directly across the street from this one. What is happening in this town?

My first thought was, “Now here’s a town that really embraces its homeless problem”. Then I got to thinking, if they have homes, are they still hoboes? Or do they have some sort of intrinsic hobo-ness that society will never let them cast off? Or is the Laurel Hill School some kind of temporary group shelter?

Arcade Fire’s CD Funeral got a lot of hype last year. Pitchfork named it number 1 in its 50 Top Albums of 2004. Heady stuff. Just try and keep my wallet away from something like that — it can’t be done. What does this have to do with books? The CD made a best books of 2004 list. How is that for hype? Anway, after several listens I was on record as saying that I just didn’t get it.

Then, last week a last minute offer to see the band materialized. So I went, and I get it now. It was easily the best show that I have seen in the last year, at least. Possibly a top 5 show ever. I’ve tried a million times to lay off the hyperbole - but this time I mean it. This band was so good live, it may have ruined other live shows for months to come.

The group had 7 people on stage, at least 5 played multiple instruments, which is always cool. Every song was BIG and lavish. Each song was a monument to sincerity. Holden Caulfield would have loved these guys, as there wasn’t a phony in the bunch. Each song was wrung out for maximum emotion and honesty. And I know how cheesy that sounds, but it’s true. The band left nothing on stage on a cold night in the ATL.

Sadly, I caught them towards the end of this tour, so neither you nor I will get a chance to see them for some time. Buy this CD.

Man, I’ve been freaking out. I’ve misplaced book three, and given the time constraints inherent in the 50 book challenge… well, it’s not good is what I’m saying. It was here yesterday; now I can’t find it.

By way of diversion, I am posting the picture below. I took this picture last year in the Florida Panhandle. Have a good look.

I challenge you to find a more disturbing use of quotation marks anywhere. Seriously. I am interpreting these quotation marks to mean that the guy she calls “daddy” is not really her father but some other older guy. I mean, he would have to be at least be 21 to own a liquor store. Right? Was putting her age on there such a good idea? Would my theoretical purchase of Mount Gay from this establishment fund some kind of sick, not so clandestine, underage love nest? And what would the money fund? Is it hush money for the local sheriff, courts, and her family, Michael Jackson-Style? Having a daughter (no quotation marks) myself, this kind of thing keeps me up nights.