Posts Tagged ‘books’

Is this the New Bible?

Posted 26 Jul 2012 — by admin
Category Reviews

“Leonard, are you telling me that some church published another bible, adding to the already crowded shelves of religious books?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re telling me with all the biblical revisions and updated versions, another bible preaching good and evil adorns my local bookstore or my library?”

“Yes to another bible, no to bookshelf space. I downloaded the new super duper bible named Bunny Bible (Church of the Animated Bunny) by Terrence747, onto my Kindle from Amazon.com.”

Fear not, fellow Biblicists. The ‘Bunny’ part of the name should quell any thoughts of punishment by fire and brimstone, reducing God’s wrath to a warm and fuzzy feeling. There’s even a priestly picture of Terrence, the spiritual rabbit, on the cover, wearing an Eastern Orthodox mitre and holding a menorah. His floppy ears are visible, not tucked under the mitre. Terrence wants to make a statement that rabbits also are capable of being ordained as priests.

Those of you who know about me, know I’m a biblical kind of guy of the Hebrew Testament variety. I take my religion and bible reading seriously. When I saw the Bunny Bible, with a sacrilegious animal standing in for a priest, a rabbi, and an imam, I was infuriated. Hey, Mister Terrence, you’re making fun of sacred text. I did not back away. I read it to determine the points I would use to skewer it on my website review. After reading it from front to back, I found this bible to be short and to the point, amazing, impressive. The 22 pages were packed with metaphysical thought, creeds, and philosophical comparisons with other religions, told to us by Terrence747. I wasn’t fooled by his name, nor did I care. The text was the oeuvre. Still, I had no reservation calling Terrence747 Bugs Bunny, Roger Rabbit, or Peter Rabbit.

I thought I’d lost it paying money, even a dollar, to purchase this new and improved bible. (By comparison, my Testament has about 2,000 pages to read.) For me, it was a Nancy Pelosi moment. You don’t need to read 2,000 pages to find out what it says. To paraphrase our dear Congresswoman: once God makes it operational, you’ll understand it. How you ask? As a sinner, God puts a stick of dynamite down your pants, waits for penance, and incinerates you if you fail to repent.

But wait. How do we know the Church of the Animated Bunny is the truer church? Unlike others, they don’t claim to be the true religion or church. Therefore, for knowing this fact, they’re a truer church. This was great stuff. Terrence went one step further. He sermonized that we can make society whole by being obedient to God’s first and last commandment, “Thou shalt disobey me.” That commandment was a bell ringer in my head. It was original.

Terrence tells us that karma is now our master. A universal juxtaposition rules all our moral decisions: the Golden Rule of “Do unto others…” or “an eye for an eye….” Imposed is fairness in our relationship with our fellow humans. The karma differs when we exercise our free will. Terrence tells us to shoot for the top, aiming our actions for a position of win-win. We’ll hit the other three on occasions, says our leader. Just work to gain the win-win position in whatever endeavor you try.

I recommend that you not get caught owning this book. Doze off to sleep with the Bunny Bible under your pillow. Hope your grandchildren play the tooth fairy and steal it away from your Kindle, and leave a dollar.

Parental Lessons

Posted 08 Sep 2010 — by admin
Category Uncategorized

Can you accept and love your children who live a life style which you despise to your inner core? May I suggest a family member with a spiked green Mohawk, ink head-to-foot, a face full of protruding facial studs that belong on a snazzy tuxedo shirt, and clothes worthy of a Halloween costume? Can you accept and love your children who live in hatred of your moral codes, your religious or political beliefs? Dare I say a child saying, “God who, peace, freedom, the president is an asshole;” a daughter high on dope sitting spread eagle ready to happily administer a gang bang. If you answered yes or no, you’re in serious trouble.

Let me be philosophical. From a father’s prospective, if your daughter rides in a motorcycle gang as someone’s bitch, are you happy about birthing a decadent child? Abstract philosophy will help us understand the question of unconditional love, but may not be helpful to relieve the pain. A little recall may help answer the question: Did my wife ride in a motorcycle gang as somebody’s bitch?  Statistics say, it’s a 70% chance the answer is yes.

As child to a parent, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Hey, I understand and expect all parents not to be upset by a child’s abnormal life style. We supplied the genes. We supplied the culture. We supplied beliefs. We supplied the community surroundings. We supplied the family unit. We supplied 3rd party persons as leaders to teach in our stead. We cannot do all the work of upbringing. School teachers, TV, spiritual leaders, celebrities, music, books: Did we allow the surrogates to mold our child in concert with our efforts? If you answer no, your answer speaks as a stranger to your child. If you answered yes, you’re in a band of gypsies, persons who lead unconventional lives. Do you know of a happier group of people on Earth?

I’ve also faced the most difficult task in my life: to love my children unconditionally. Part of that love contains unpleasant moments and parts. There are no set of rules that apply to each child. Some children grow to be smarter than you, some are disabled, some never reach a satisfaction which life offers. Psychologists on TV opine about micro issues which may help. The macro issues are the world. How do we teach children how to live on this planet? Thousands of issues make up the world. You start by teaching what you know, but no one knows everything. Working together with a child looking for answers teaches, not only the child, but you as well. Discovering a facet of life together: Is there anything more worthwhile?

May I suggest reading “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” by Betty Smith. In Chapter 9, the author narrates a story about Katie, a young woman and mother of a day old child, admitting she knows nothing about being a parent. Her mother, Mary Rommely, describes how she was raised in a peasant family, unable to read or write. She wanted to have it better, so she read books she learned were important. Her advice continues and is most inspiring. Her narration is most unconventional and relevant. As a successful father, I encourage you to read what was written almost 70 years ago.

“The Thieves of Manhattan” – Painting the Publishing World

Posted 01 Sep 2010 — by admin
Category Reviews

Adam Langer’s The Thieves of Manhattan (© 2010, ISBN: 978-1400068913) proved an exciting read. Glancing at the cover and title which hosts crooked letters cut from newspaper and eyes on a black background, I anticipated reading about low-life thieves, fences to dispose of stolen merchandise, drug dealers, or cheap hookers. Instead, Langer paints pictures of people dressed in suits or fashionable casual clothes, wearing chic eyeglasses and expensive watches. Low-life crooks had the day off. The thieves in the title are professional people—think the mirroring of elected government officials and investment bankers. But in this case, the author used people connected with the publishing business, which he is probably most familiar.

Ian Minot, the narrator, first appears as his homophone surname implies, a minnow. He works as a barista in a coffeehouse, and writes short stories during down time. We quickly gather he wants to be a big fish novelist; his sights for success never wane. He sees his girlfriend, Anya Petrescu, a Romanian chachka, being invited to read parts of her memoir at a who’s who in the literary field gathering. Langer brings her to life, having her speak in a broken English accent. “Ee-yen, ve should heff met earlier…vhen ve both vere different pipples.” Ian, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, sits and listens, as she captivates the audience. He laments he writes as good as anyone and cannot understand why he is a failure. With her rise to stardom, the scene soon leads to the breakup of life together between Ian and Anya.

After Ian, Anya is swept away by a book agent and very NYC man, Geoff Olden. Street slang such as “Metro Sex” or cheap Spanish expressions such as “Por Favor” dot the pages. Anya signs on with Olden to get her memoir published. Anya’s literary success strongly correlates with sexual liaisons; she is in over her head. It is here the author’s narrative shines. He describes the publishing business workings inside parties and dinner scenes: the smoozing, the backstabbing, the threats, the duplicity. Langer depicts an identifiable hate-love relationship with industry. Read More

Struggles and Triumphs of Writing My First Book

Posted 16 Apr 2010 — by admin
Category Uncategorized

The biggest struggle I faced writing my book, was learning how to write English. As a business executive, writing quality reports to my superiors or clients proved easy. My mind and my ability to compose words melded. Words on the page jumped out at the reader. Magic would describe the process. I’ve heard that many touts at racetracks are illiterate, except when reading the racing forms or odds boards. For now, call me a semi-illiterate.

My effort to complete a mature work, connecting action to thoughts was passionate. Needed was instruction and serious practice. I scribbled compared to writing business reports. I tried to connect with an editor to help. When interviewing prospects, they looked at my drafts and politely said I had a long way to go. I knew the samples were poorly written. The problem went further: What are you talking about? The subject matter is incomprehensible. Find another editor.

I eventually found my writing coach and editor, Ian Leask, who understood my thinking. At first, our relationship worked similar to a TV show or movie, as if I roomed in an insane asylum. I wasn’t actually locked up in a cage in a guarded building. He role played, metaphorically being a doctor, dressed in a white uniform, visiting his patient in a locked room. After reviewing a draft I’d sent, his opening mantra was consistent; did I know what sort of rubbish I submitted? The time allotted listening to my response was limited to one minute. My nonsensical response was to understand why the chapter I submitted had so many editing marks on the margins. Hearing his response, I dared not ask at what grade level my writing belonged. I needed strength to rise above my doldrums. Compose good sentences and logical paragraphs; you’ll be set free from the asylum and allowed to live with your family. That was the agreement. Read More