NewMexiKen is taking the day off. Even so, if I see things I think you should read, I’ll list them here.
You can begin with Tanya at Dinner without Crayons.
Karen went Walking On The Moon, a must read. Views like that — and chiles — are why I stay a New Mexican, Karen.
As The King’s Speech moves toward its coronation by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences on the 27th, you might want to read The King’s Speech: good movie, very bad history by Christopher Hitchens.
And a best line from Krugman:
“[A]s far as right-wing politicians are concerned: for the most part they know that Obama was born here, that he isn’t a socialist, that there are no death panels, and so on, but feel compelled to pretend to be crazy as a career move.”
Last night after finishing Iris Chang’s important The Rape of Nanking: The Forgotten Holocaust of World War II, I read Sarah Vowell’s Radio On: A Listener’s Diary. As the subtitle implies, Vowell annotated her radio listening — for a year (1995). It’s dated, and not equal to her more recent work, but it has its moments. Today I am into Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History by S.C. Gwynne. I read the free Kindle sample of this book in January and have been eager to read the whole book but wanted a dead tree edition. UPS delivered it last Friday, the day after I ordered it, but to the vacant house across the street. The painter working at the house over the weekend took it inside — go figure — but fortunately the owner dropped by yesterday and had sense enough to walk it across the street.

In Caitlin’s world, everything is black or white. Things are good or bad. Anything in between is confusing. That’s the stuff Caitlin’s older brother, Devon, has always explained. But now Devon’s dead and Dad is no help at all. Caitlin wants to get over it, but as an eleven-year-old girl with Asperger’s, she doesn’t know how. When she reads the definition of closure, she realizes that is what she needs. In her search for it, Caitlin discovers that not everything is black and white—the world is full of colors—messy and beautiful.
In his fourth collection, Terrance Hayes investigates how we construct experience. With one foot firmly grounded in the everyday and the other hovering in the air, his poems braid dream and reality into a poetry that is both dark and buoyant. Cultural icons as diverse as Fela Kuti, Harriet Tubman, and Wallace Stevens appear with meditations on desire and history. We see Hayes testing the line between story and song in a series of stunning poems inspired by the Pecha Kucha, a Japanese presenta tion format. This innovative collection presents the light- headedness of a mind trying to pull against gravity and time. Fueled by an imagination that enlightens, delights, and ignites, Lighthead leaves us illuminated and scorched.
In Just Kids, Patti Smith’s first book of prose, the legendary American artist offers a never-before-seen glimpse of her remarkable relationship with photographer Robert Mapplethorpe in the epochal days of New York City and the Chelsea Hotel in the late sixties and seventies. An honest and moving story of youth and friendship, Smith brings the same unique, lyrical quality to Just Kids as she has to the rest of her formidable body of work—from her influential 1975 album Horses to her visual art and poetry.
At the rock-bottom end of the sport of kings sits the ruthless and often violent world of cheap horse racing, where trainers and jockeys, grooms and hotwalkers, loan sharks and touts all struggle to take an edge, or prove their luck, or just survive. Lord of Misrule follows five characters—scarred and lonely dreamers in the American grain—through a year and four races at Indian Mound Downs, downriver from Wheeling, West Virginia.