Periodic adventures

Whilst on vacation, got sick of the Oxford Book of Modern Science Writing on trains. Introduced me to some nice people but I don't like Richard Dawkins, and I started having a hard time stomaching his ubiquitous introductions to the authors, particularly the ones he disagreed with. Okay . . . a lot of them are loons, no doubt . . . but I don't need to be told that by the father of something as looney as the Memeplex. And I don't think it was quite the thing for Oxford to issue what's supposed to be a broad writing compilation that's been edited by a pompous goof whose core ideologies are increasingly being challenged but who's got no hesitation in letting his opinionation shine through unobstructed.

The really good thing about it is that it's convinced me I have to read The Periodic Table. That looks great. And the other really good thing about it is that it convinced me to buy a new book in Barcelona for the train ride back, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. I haven't read very many things by Mark Twain, in fact nothing besides The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. His writing gives me the same feeling as a friend of a friend back in Toronto who I always had a feeling I was meant to have an epic sexual encounter with, but something always came up to stop it, like J*Fish (the fucking master of the cockblock - maybe it's just as well he doesn't talk to me anymore) being there, or like me reuniting with my true love and forswearing all others. The feeling, in both cases, is just a sort of disbelief I haven't had that yet.

But while there is now basically zero chance of me ever having that friend of a friend, I can read all the Mark Twain I want . . . it's just that I keep forgetting. I mustn't, and this blog entry must stand to remind me of that. Tom Sawyer was totally charming and I think I have to move into Mark Twain very much big time. The writing is graceful and witty, which is a rare combination.