Danger Darling

Commitment Ceremony

“I may be gay, by my money is GREEN, motherfucker!”

Dr. Joseph Suglia, Author of WATCH OUT

The first author to brave Danger was the illustrious Dr. Joseph Suglia, author of WATCH OUT and greatest author in the world (just reference his MySpace page). Check him out, then buy his book.

DD: What is your favorite word, and why? Least favorite?

JS: My favorite word is “to auto-sodomize.” My least favorite word is “to stymie.”

DD: If you had to carry out a murder, what would be your weapon of choice?

JS: A corn holder.

DD: In the shower, do you sing or is it just straightforward washing?

JS: I sing, I warble, I burble, I babble on my Shower-Phone, I cook food in my waterproof microwave, I lather my perineum, I bathe my pigeons.

DD: In a world full of alter ego superheroes, what would be your name?

JS: “The Him.”

DD: Which body part would you choose to lose?

JS: My head. I wouldn’t mind decapitation, as long as my luscious body remained intact.

DD: What is your favorite Beatles song?

JS: The Beatles are the most overestimated band in rock-musical history. The first 1.5 minutes of “Happiness is a Warm Gun” are superb; everything else they manufactured is sound-dross.

DD: Is meat really murder?

JS: Meat, in itself, is not murder, but it may be used as a weapon. A moist steak is more annihilative than an AK-47, a hand grenade, or a land mine.

DD: Do you prefer fucking, sex or making love?

JS: I prefer none of the above. I am married to myself. I have entangled myself in the coils of lust. I am my own Significant Other, my own mistress, my own concubine, and my own wife. No one concerns me but myself.

DD: Which author would you choose to write the story of your life?

JS: No one will ever write the story of my life. I will leave no memoirs. My life is a vortex that swallows itself.

DD: Finally, what is your favorite book and why do you recommend it?

JS: WATCH OUT by Dr. Joseph Suglia, for it is far and away the greatest novel of the past thirty years. I say this not as the book’s author, but as a literary critic. It is also the principal accomplishment of my life.

Vurt by Jeff Noon

Ahhh, Vurt. Jeff Noon, will you have my babies?

I read Vurt twice because I didn’t want the story to end. It was even more enjoyable the second time around. Written in a hacking, drug-induced style, the book follows a band of “Stash Riders” as they face danger, knowledge, pleasure and alternate planes of existence in search of the ultimate high — a feather called English Voodoo.

This is a book that can only ever be a book. No movies for you, Vurt; please don’t sell out to that Hollywood cheese. A huge part of its appeal is the way in which Jeff Noon conveys his imagery, shrouded in mystery and confusion and language.

On a scale of “Eh” to “FANFUCKINGTASTIC!” I give Vurt a “Wow, let’s have that one again, please!” Read it if you love words and a good story and illegal drug use isn’t an issue in your smoke-hazed mind.

Stranger Than Fiction (2006)

Harold Crick is an IRS agent who is solidly in a rut. He counts the strokes of his toothbrush and his steps to the bus, never varies his routine and sleeps alone. That is, until he starts hearing a voice in his head.

Far from the campy flicks that Will Ferrell is known for, Stranger Than Fiction is a touching look at possibilities finally fulfilled, chances taken and the internal discord that comes from killing people for a living. Emma Thompson is brilliantly peculiar as the author who narrates Harold Crick’s life and ultimately plans his demise.

My favorite thing about this movie is that it didn’t mind detouring from reality into the fanciful, although it kept its head very well. On a scale of “Eh” to “FANFUCKINGTASTIC!” I give it a “Wow, Will Ferrell can act? Seriously? AWESOME!” See it if you want to laugh and cry in the same five minutes.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

The bookseller at Waldenbooks told me that, although he’d never read Never Let Me Go, several people had told him that it was a difficult read. I don’t know that I agree with this view, but I can understand how some readers might come to this conclusion. Although there’s no terribly imaginative vocabulary and the storyline is refreshingly unusual, Ishiguro does nothing to explain his characters or the world he has created before he is ready. There are certain terms and conditions that simply have to be accepted without understanding as they’re read. This can be truly frustrating.

Unfortunately, I can’t reveal much of anything about the plot of this book without giving away the little secrets that are carefully tucked away and so casually mentioned that the revelation of each new detail is a surprise. The biggest disappointment was that I was left with so many questions. Kazuo doesn’t delve into the technical aspect of his book at all, choosing to focus entirely on the slowly dissipating hope of his main characters as they follow their preordained path through life.

Although I did like this novel, I’ll probably read it again in a month or so to see if I enjoy it more when I’m not searching desperately for clues to who the donors, guardians and carers are and why they exist. The hidden meanings were a little distracting, even though the craftsmanship of the novel itself was excellent.

On a scale of “Eh” to “FANFUCKINGTASTIC!” I give Never Let Me Go a “Hmm. Veeeerry interesting.” Read it if you like novels that make you think, but aren’t stuck up their own asses.

Liza Palmer

Liza Palmer is the author of Conversations with the Fat Girl and an all-around interesting person. You can visit her website at www.lizapalmer.com.

DD: What is your favorite word and why? Least favorite?

LP: Favorite? Flagon. It just sounds exactly like what it is. Used to be fond of “ladybug”. Went through an “apocalypse” phase. Now? Flagon.
Least favorite? Don’t have one. Words are luscious, beautiful little things.

DD: If you had to carry out a murder, what would be your weapon of
choice?

LP: I’m a lover not a fighter.

DD: In the shower, do you sing or is it just straightforward washing?

LP: Shower?

DD: In a world full of alter ego superheroes, what would be your name
and power?

LP: Dodgey McVague. My power would be not to have a power, kind of.

DD: Which bodypart would you choose to lose?

LP: This is hypothetical, right? I mean, someone’s not going to show up at my doorstep and be all, “You said you could do without your head, Ms. Palmer! And since you didn’t answer the whole murder question, Ms. Lover Not a Fighter? And you don’t even fancy yourself a superhero, Dodgey McVague — it’s time to pay up.” Thwack. So … hypothetical? Umm, just to be on the safe side, I’m going to go with my Inner Child. I could do without my Inner Child.

DD: What is your favorite Beatles song?

LP: “I’ve Got a Feeling.” No question.

DD: Is meat really murder?

LP: I’m thinking it’s pretty cut and dry for those on the other end of the whole “getting slaughtered” thing.

DD: Do you prefer fucking, sex or making love?

LP: See aforementioned murder answer. Not that I prefer murder to the above, but … well … FLAGON FLAGON FLAGON.

DD: Which author would you choose to write the story of your life?

LP: I’d have Ken Burns do a documentary.

DD: Finally, what is your favorite book and why do you recommend it?

LP: This is an impossible question to answer! There are factors. What mood am I in? What’s happening in my life? A book is directly related to a certain time in one’s life. That’s the magic. The right book always finds you when you need it. So, I await the next one — the next perfect book that will transport me to worlds unknown just when I need it.

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold

Drawn in by the beautiful turquoise cover, I picked up The Lovely Bones with some trepidation as to its storyline. The back cover blurb promised an affecting and emotional book about a murdered girl adjusting to her new life in heaven and the disintegration of the family she left behind. Afterlife? Heaven? That does not sound like a story I’m interested in reading. However, after picking up and rejecting several other books, I came back to The Lovely Bones and cracked it open to a random page:

“By the time the Gilbert’s dog found my elbow three days later and brought it home with a telling corn husk attached to it, Mr. Harvey had closed (the place I was murdered) up.”

An unattached elbow? This I have to read.

The Lovely Bones is less about life after death than about the lives people continue to live after a death. The heaven that exists in the book is merely a tool, palatable to nearly all tastes, through which Ms. Sebold relates the dead girl’s perspective narration on the world she no longer enjoys. It is well written, with subtle imagery, vivid emotion and language that never jarred me out of the experience. Too often, books are described as “haunting,” but this one truly is — both in the fact that it literally deals with death and the aftermath of such a tragedy and in the typical use of the word; this beautiful story returns again and again to my mind.

On a scale from “Eh” to “FANFUCKINGTASTIC!” The Lovely Bones ranks a solid “Hell yeah!” Read it if you want a fairly easy read with an intriguing plot or if you liked What Dreams May Come.

Bullet Park by John Cheever

On the surface, Bullet Park is a novel about one man moving to a suburb in order to crucify another man’s son. Paul Hammer, intent upon objectifying the very icon of suburban peace and joy to demonstrate how vile and depraved all humans really are, chooses his victim, Eliot Nailles, from a dental journal. Interesting enough, right? As I began to read, however, I discovered that the real story is in how delicate the balance is between normal and obsessive, sane and insane. The novel switches between first person narrative by the characters with relative ease, explaining their actions all the while through reflection and conversation. They seem to merely want peace, but are unsure how to go about acheiving it.

This book feels intensely voyeuristic and personal, like reading a hidden diary. John Cheever writes emotion with great clarity and a striving for truth, even if the truth is unlovely and tainted. Bullet Park is beautifully written in an almost emotionless voice, as though it could matter less whether a man’s wife cheats or his son is murdered.

On a scale from “Eh” to “FANFUCKINGTASTIC!” Bullet Park gets a “Very nice.” Read it if you want a relatively tame rendering of a brutal subject.

Aimee and Jaguar by Erica Fischer

Loaned to me by the ever lovely Di, I eagerly began reading the true story of Lilly “Aimee” Wust and Felice “Jaguar” Schragenheim, lesbian lovers living in Nazi era Germany. After reading for two days, I put it down and read an entirely different book. Then I went back to work on Aimee and Jaguar, intent on reaching the end of this important piece of GLBT literature. Unfortunately, because I had to take a break from this impossibly convoluted storyline every few days in order to finally finish, this book took me nearly two weeks to read and it felt like finishing a marathon.

Maybe it’s because I’m not a romantic.

Listen, kids, this book has the framework for a fiery explosion of a tale — Nazi Germany, an underground Jew in love with the ex-wife of a Nazi, concentration camps, lesbian romance in a time when homosexuals were being persecuted even more than usual — but the author merely buries the story with endless details and repetition.

In her epilogue, Ms. Fischer admits that listening to Lilly, the surviving half of the couple, describe her life and relationship to Felice was tiring. Many of her complaints about Lilly’s account of her life were the same I had about Ms. Fischer’s retelling. Lilly started tangential stories in which Erica was uninterested — check. Portions of her story sounded mechanical and rehearsed — check. Names, dates and tiny unimportant details are rattled off with confusing speed — check. However boring Lilly may have been (and from the looks of it, very) it’s the author’s job to reshape the story into something more interesting for the reader. I don’t feel that was done.

These issues aside, there are sections of the book that are riveting. Erica Fischer does break out some surprisingly intuitive writing in the epilogue. Aimee and Jaguar is a story worth knowing, if merely for the historical aspect. However, on a scale from “Eh” to “FANFUCKINGTASTIC!” it gets a “Boooooring!” Only read it if you’ve got a knack for keeping the seven nicknames for every character straight or if you can’t find the movie.

Go Fish (1994)

Max West (dewy Guinevere Turner, who also appears in The L Word as Gabby Deveaux and American Psycho as Elizabeth) is set up with Ely by her good friend and roomie Kia. Unfortunately, as Max puts it, “U-G-L-Y, she ain’t got no alibi — she’s ugly!”

Despite the bad acting and the regrettable style of the 90’s, I loved this movie. I loved the art-project vibe, the social statements it makes and the fact that it was shot in black and white because black and white film was cheaper than color. I do have to mention that the cover is quite possibly the most misleading movie art I’ve ever come across. This is not an ethereal film about glowing sex between gorgeous lesbians. It’s a film about finding love in unlikely places and not going with your first reaction all the time. The cast, though untrained as actors, gives a heartfelt performance. So what if they do look like they’re straight reading their lines from cue cards half — okay, seventy-five percent — of the time? The wedding dress scene made my heart hiccup.

On a scale from “Eh.” to “FANFUCKINGTASTIC!” I give Go Fish a hearty “Yes!” See it if you are a lesbo (prerequisite, right?) and bad acting doesn’t annoy you out of enjoyment.