I was really hoping that no one would pass me this game, but since someone (who shall remain nameless) did, I feel an obligation to complete it. This would be so much easier with music, I must say. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book I didn’t like.
In the interest of killing this little game, I’m morphing it.
You’re stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?
I’m on fire; I’m burning; I don’t care what book I am. What’s most important is what we’re listening to: Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire, of course.
Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
I had a huge crush on King Alobar from Jitterbug Perfume, but that probably has everything to do with the psychadelic sex scenes in Tom Robbins’ books.
When I was younger I had a mad crush on Chris Cornell. And Jim Morrison. To my parents’ dismay, I plastered my walls with pictures of them (and Courtney Love, pre-plastic surgery).
The last book you bought is?
I can’t remember the last book I bought since I’ve been given so many. However, the last CDs I bought were Madvillain’s Madvillainy and the newest Reverend Horton Heat, Revival (not so good). Again, I have far more CDs given to me than I buy.
What are you currently reading?
A little bit of everything. On my nightstand sits Teaching as a Subversive Activity and Will in the World. Both were given to me by others. In my Skully bag, the bag I fill up when I go a-walkin’, is The Dirty Havana Trilogy by Pedro Juan Gutierrez, and How the Dead Live by Will Self.
However, the most important item in my walking bag is the mp3 player. What am I listening to? Biz Markie, Peaches, Das EFX (“They Want EFX” also doubles as my cell phone ringer), Sister Nancy, Slick Rick, Belle and Sebastian, and Donovan. You have to have a good variety depending on your walkin’ mood, whether you’re getting whooped at by college boys, splashed by passing cars, or doing what I generally do, scoping out other people’s flowers (and perhaps picking them).
Five books you would take to a deserted island:
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven by Sherman Alexie;
Aloud: Voices from the Nuyorican Cafe, an anthology of contemporary slam poetry;
Written on the Body by Jeanette Winterson, introduced to me by Dr. B. in a gender lit course;
Derrick Jensen’s Culture of Make Believe, because even though I ripped on him, he is still a wonderful writer;
and a blank journal I could keep with the pen I snuck onto the island.
Music that would make it onto a desert island with me would be a slew of homemade CDs and my solar powered, shoulder-sittin’ jambox. I have no loyalties, only songs I love shamelessly.
Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?
Dr. B., whose answers will be about knitting books, Queen Kim of Twins and Procrastination, and Mr. Capanzzi, who I haven’t heard from in awhile.