changeling67 | Entries tagged with reading list 2016

Moby's reflections on his mom (I believe) had been the reason Play had been created. Cut up about her death, he eventually caves whilst working on the music and it seems to have been cathartic for him. He is aware that he is not grieving as he should, because of his conflicted feelings about her and how he grew up; 'I wasn't grieving my loss'(p.391). Eventually, he does grieve for her - not himself and changes from bratty techno up-his-own-ass wondernerd to human being in one fail swoop.

( Last of Moby )

The autobiography ends with the launching of his mega album to date, namely Play. I don't think he should have ended the biography there - he should have expanded the reasoning behind Play, the idea of licencing and marketing those tracks, which, in turn became a critical success. I specifically remember The Sky Is Broken on my favourite X-File episode ever - "all things" written and directed by Gillian Anderson herself.

Score - a cagey 4 out of 5 stars. If Moby had edited some of the small incidental yakkety yak,using a certain amount of reflection instead and ended the bio by riding the crest of the Play wave, then I would have definitely awarded it the full five stars.

I do think it is worth reading and I think it will remain on my bookshelf a fair while.

Current Music: Moby - My Weakness

'I loved my Mom. She was the smartest and funniest and most interesting people I'd ever known. But growing up with her had never been normal. My first memory in life was flying with her to San Francisco in 1968. My father was dead, I was almost three years old and my mom had just become a hippie [...] I discovered that I had another mom: absent mom, a twenty-four-year-old aspiring hippie. It was the Summer of Love and she had let her blonde, preppy shoulder-length hair grow long and wild' (p.367).

'Growing up I never knew what I would get, my smart-and-funny-mom or my sullen-and-vitriolic mom' (p.369).

Moby: Porcelain

Current Music: Moby - Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?

I rejoin Moby at the last quarter of his autobiography and he is suffering from (musical) performance anxiety. Everything he does feels wrong (probably autosuggested from his 1995 album that has almost the same title); 'for some reason everything I'd recorded so far sounded terrible and unusable' and an admission that both recreationally and mentally, things were becoming unstuck; 'I was drinking almost nightly and experiencing constant panic attacks - (Back) in 1984 when I was a philosophy major at UConn, (the panic attacks) were debilitating, so I dropped out amd moved home [...] I drank and the panic persisted. I took Valium and it persisted. I drove my moped around Darien listening to Echo and the Bunnymen cassettes and it persisted' (p.311).

At this point, you can't help but feel that Moby is lining up for a big crash across every aspect of his life.

( More of Moby )
However, insights are starting to emerge and it becomes plain as to the ingrained reasons behind the depths of his despair. I must admit, this book has picked up in leaps and bounds. Still think it needs editing, but at least I feel drawn into his life and want to read it now.

Finale tomorrow.

Current Music: Moby - Honey

Moby has hit the big time and seemingly untouched by the degeneration that is happening around him. He has acquired his 'perfect punk-rock girl' i.e. a vegan-Doc Marten-wearing, mosh-pit surfing, pink-haired supporting, all-round pulchritudinous babe. Which on paper seems the absolute perfect soul mate, but in reality, is not hot on laughs or shared anecdotes (or, it seems even conversation). When a reclusive nerd meets someone who speaks even less and is more curt than he is, things become a bit of a problem. Abrupt to the point of being rude, she seemingly doesn't want to even hold his hand, though quickie airplane sex seems to be on the cards.

Poor Moby, invested much too much in this relationship and the writing is pretty much on the wall; 'I was starting all our conversations with the word "so" again: "So... how was work?" "So...do you want to have spaghetti tonight?" "So... would you do me a favour and kill me in my sleep so I can be spared the pain of waking up in this terrible relationship?"'

Moby - I feel your pain.

( More of Moby )

To give Moby his due, he does have a knack with words and has a deadpan delivery that has made me laugh out loud several times. For instance the conversation with his dog Walnut, enticing it to play with a fellow pit bull; 'Walnut stared up at me, as if to say, "Really? Do I want to play with the giant psychopathic pit bull that eats glass for breakfast? Best-case scenario, I get cold and muddy and the pit bull ignores me. Worst-case scenario, I get slowly eaten by that monster' (p.236). Love it - a very human-canine interaction here, more warmth with the dog than with the monosyllabic snotty Sarah.

I think he is at his most eloquent, whilst composing a track. Conflicted about Sarah, he describes his musical arrangement and the prose just falls out of him. This gives me more hope for the rest of the biography and I do take yesterday's critique back a bit.

Quote of the Day
He begins drinking after eight years of sobriety; 'We were in a windowless dive bar [...] with thick cigarette smoke in the air and an alphabet of hepatitis in the toilets' (p.259).

Approaching the last quarter of the book - now on page 300.

When I listened to the arrangements I thought about God moving over the face of the waters, when the earth was new, before there was land and before anything was alive. The spirit of God, full of prescience and omniscience, seeing the emptiness and expanse of the new world, aware of all that's there and all that's to follow. The life that will come, and the death that will end with each life. The trillions of creatures who will come out of this ocean, all wanting to live as long and as well as possible, each resisting death until the end. All of the life and death and longing and heartbreak and hope [...] I listened to the music, put my head on the plywood table, and cried' (p.257).

Moby - Porcelain

Dear Moby, dear, dear, dearest Moby. This biography is not holding my attention. I am half way through and am considering giving up. I am trying, though other, more interesting books are enticing me to read beneath their covers.

He bemoans his lot in the UK, where as he is about to hit the big time, he is forced to shack up at a manky Brit B&B where the shower is 50p per 10 minutes of water. He is interviewd by Kiss FM and is seemingly stony and monosyllabic; 'I wanted to tell him, "I'm jet-lagged and staying in a charnel house that should have been levelled in World War II"' (p.155).

Amusing n' est ce pas? Ah...I remember the days of badly-maintained guest houses in the arse end of nowhere too - but with a certain amount of nostalgia, it must be said. Bearing in mind he slept in an abandoned factory and barely washed for so long - what was his problem? However, he does set up the vibe of rave/acid house in its infancy, 'The show was in an old, venerable theatre, but it felt like a rave. The air smelled like Vicks and the crowd were waving glow sticks and blowing airhorns and whistles' (p.156).

( More of Moby )

His musings on Britain - ' I had grown up seeing two different Englands on TV. There was the bucolic England with witty university students floating on slow boats alongside waterborne flower petals on gentle rivers and sunny ponds. Then there was this England, the rainy, cold England that was the background for any movie about defeated people waiting to die in public housing estates'. A Joy Division fan, he contemplates how different it would have been if Ian Curtis had ben 'born in Palo Alto (he'd) probably be managing a chain of oraganic coffee shops and married to a yoga teacher' (p.158-9).

See, Moby? That IS what I like about you - the chaining together of random ideas, of interesting (if a bit stereotypical) contrasts. I don't mind well-placed humour or insightful thoughts - it's too much of the inane, real-time yaking that's boring me rigid. If you want my opinion, you could have shortened it a ~~lot~~ bit and the whole book would have been immensely more readable and far more enjoyable.

Maybe, I have a chequered opinion on this, as a music fan and as a person who ordinarily liked his essays (anyone who has picked up his CDs has been treated to Moby's penned outlook on life). I am not a former raver girl. So, I have come to the conclusion that, unless you were an acid-house/raver warehouse participator, infused with various nineties narcotics, holding glo sticks aloft, then this biography is going to sink lower than an underbaked veggie souffle.

I'll stick with it for now, but Mobes....mate - you need to edit this :-/

Reading this biography is cool, but I think Moby gets a bit bogged down in trivia and some of this has made me skim quite a ~~lot~~ bit. Can get a little boring in places - anecdotes that will not really inspire unless you are a hard-core rapping/hiphop/acid house fan from the nineties, where a lot of the names would eaier be exciting or would trigger nostalgia (although Flea from Red Hot Chillis, Run DMC and Madonna also make an appearance). None of which is really happening for me, though I did like the music he mentioned - which I loaded earlier today (Good ol' Adamski - I was twenty two when that came out).

Things are picking up pace for Moby, but he feels that his relationship with Janet is at an end. She is devastated, he feels bad, but knows it is the right choice; 'I was single. Shouldn't that involve sex and love and bad dates and holding hands on trips to Coney Island?' (p.92). Syndetic listing, uncovering an innocence, a young person's percieved reality to what the dating scene was like. Sweet, in a way - basically, he was eschewing his Christian no-sex-before-marriage ideology, in ordered to get laid.

( Spoilerette )

Moby keeps in touch with Janet and he meets her new boyfriend; 'After we broke up, (she) had moved away from my world of hip hop and house music - and the furthest she could get away from club kids taking drugs with rappers was a tiny cafe for folk musicians, where they served cappuccinos and closed at eleven pm' (p.123). I love this coupling of ideas. Binaries that conjour up different worlds.

Quote of the Day
Moby lands in London, where the shock of the new hits him - bustle of the traffic with its alien number plates, quaint and knackered Tudor houses etc., but ends up in a not-so-pretty part of town; 'It was a sad gray house on a sad gray road in a defeated part of London. The sort of place where British directors made grim movies about the working-class hopelessness: 'Shut up, Violet, I can't get my job back, the mine's closed"' (p.153).

Channelling Danny Boyle per chance? Or seen one too many Pete Postlethwaite movie?

Current Music: Moby - Go

I was thinking where he grew up and his stint as a squatter in the abandoned Connecticut factory, with gunshots, drug dealers and junkies as a background track and fully got the sense of 'life in the raw'. Somehow though, I felt I wanted to shield him, bless his heart. No wonder he felt like a little alien - water-swillin', vegan-promoting, God-fearing lad, that he was. One of his dosed-up flat mates was so looped and agressive, he had bought two cans of gasoline and was going to dowse the guys and set fire to them in the night, but he himself had fell asleep.

I have got to the point where Moby is DJing at a 'swingers' club and It aint for the faint-hearted either.; 'The DJ was playing an old disco single while a few chubby swingers dressed in bondage gear danced under some spinning red police lights and a lone Radio Shack strobe light' (p.51).

( I'm Here For A Touch Of Class )

Things are looking up, though - bar a regrettable and 'intimate' incident with a huge cockroach. More on Sunday.

Current Music: Moby - In This World

Right now, I am settling down for a comfy read. This will possibly be my last random book, cutting it short as I really do have to get back to study. I will be reading extensively on Jung/Freud this summer and if I really want to crack my major dissertation, I need to know the theories inside out BEFORE I figure out the angle/books of the diss.

As I have already said, I quite like Moby. His music first came to my attention in 1999 when his album Play flooded the market. When his autobiography Porcelain came out last month, I thought I would give it a whirl. I have also watched some of a documentry that spans his early career, specifically his life in the abandoned factory in Connecticut. The soundtrack to his life there is interesting enough: gunshots, amplified gospel and loud car music 'Public Enemy. Or EPMD. Or Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock. Every fifteen minutes, a car would drive by playing 'Fight the Power' or 'It Takes Two' at toaster-oven-rattling levels' (p.9).

( Spoilery )

Following my lengthy read of House of Leaves, I have set myself the task of reading (and commenting/reviewing) many of the recommended books that I have on my bookshelves. I will do this throughout June - July, I will have to settle down and research my major dissertation. Please feel free to comment, or even join me with your own books - it will be a pleasure to see what you are reading :-)

House of Leaves has been an absolute behemoth of a book, which has been both a most challenging, but rewarding read. I HAVE wondered how on earth MZD managed to get it in print, because most people wouldn't have given it house room - let alone publishers, who can be the most picky bunch at the best of times. I admire Mark Z. Danielewski's writing style and how he is able to hold these very different narratives together without spilling a drop. It is metafiction at its very best; the font style and angles makes the reader a participator, a contract that ensures a deeper empathy with the characters, thus making HoL a very visceral experience - a perfect example of ergodic literature.

Many questions posed, many answers ambivalent, mostly the understanding is in the eye of the beholder. Steven Poole from The Guardian believes that MZD has built a 'scholarly-Gothic fiction around a non-existent film'. It is gloriously postmodern, undeniably satirical, but I would hesitate to use the horror genre; more 'terror' - where fear is internalised and thoughts are hypothesised. Unexpectedly, it is also about profound love - whether you consider it as Navidson/Karen, Zapano/Pelafina or Truant and his mother.

Clifford Lee Sargent appreciates it's bizarreness - "It is like Lewis Carroll threw everything out of the window and took a nice cocktail of crystal meth and DMT". I would hasten to add that if he did, he dragged Moby Dick, Ahab, Jonah et al with him.

Even though I am glad that I had set this challenge, I am also pleased that it is over - it has proved to me that if I can read this text, then I can pretty well read anything that is put in front of me. I would give it 4.5 stars and it will most definitely be in my all-time top 10 books.

PS - For some reason, the book as made me appreciate and understand Fiona Banner now.

Last night I had stopped at p.504, because I wasn't taking much of it in, to be frank. Fragments of text are ok to decipher at two in the afternoon; not so great when you are an hour off of bedtime. Words and bars of a song - even printed (but not bevelled) braille, which is read as follows;

'The walls are endlessly bare. Nothing hangs on them, nothing defines them. They are without texture. Even to the keenest eye or most sentient fingertip, they remain unreadable. You will never find a mark there. No trace survives. The walls obliterate everything. They are permanently absolved pg all record. Oblique, forever obscure and unwritten. Behold, the perfect pantheon of absence' (p.423).

Staring into an abyss and letting it stare back at you.

( Spoilery )

Quote of the Day

'"I have no sense of anything other than myself"' (p.470). Navidson making himself accountable?

Shame there isn't a Shmoop or Sparknote page to make proper sense of this - probably because it would end up twice as long as HoL and that would rather defeat the object.

So, who IS Karen Green? Former model, mother to Navidsons two children. Fear of commitment, but so desperately needy of her partner - who is possibly emotionally unavailable too. Affairs to redefine herself, claustrophobia to keep others at bay. Is the narrator implying that this shape-shifting house problem has manifested largely by her?

'There are only 8,160 frames in Karen's film and yet they serve as the perfect counterpoint to that infinite stretch of hallways, rooms and stairs. The house is empty, her place is full. The house is dark, her film glows. A growl haunts that place, her place is blessed [...] On Ash Tree Lane stands a house of darkness, cold and emptiness. In 16mm, stands a house of light, love and colour' (p.368).

Maybe the house signifies an absence of God/Divine Universal Presence/Whatever and that hell is not some fiery place but a black chasm of one's own making, black mirrors reflecting our misdemenours and misgivings.

( Spoiler-ish )

For some reason, I envision Karen to be very much like the lady on the Orbital video 'Halcyon', whiose track has a hypnotic, slightly echolaic pattern (just as Daisy did at her most traumatised). 'Halcyon' is dedicated to the Hartnolls' mother who was addicted to Halcion (triazolam) for many years. I can almost imagine Karen as this zombie figure, trying to live up to the cultural and social expectation of society, but privately caving inside.

I once wrote a story that was effectively a reworking of Echo and Narcissus, how a girl had to reclaim her own voice, rather than be an echo of other people. Daughter, sister, mother - a person made up of links to other people and in the midst, a disappearing self. It felt cathartic. Years later, I fed all copies through the shredder - no regrets.

I am on chapter XIX (p.418), which I suspect will be largely about Karen and her reconnaissance mission to save her former partner. I will start reading again later today.

Current Music: Orbital - Halcyon

Samples of the multi dimensional walls have been taken, showing that the test tubes contain all three rock classifications. Personally, I think the house has taken the concept of metamorphic' rock to the next level. However, it appears to be a vacuum; a type of well-crafted, multi-chambered/hallwayed black hole. I HAD wondered if this was going to turn into an inside out Jumanji, but to no avail. Occasionally, the text is plagued with xxxxx's - seemingly Truant's editing but could be reminiscent of Truant mirroring Karen's separately guilty past - both have exes abound.

Truant seeming has his own dreamlike labyrinth in the shape of a boat; 'a vessel [...] endlessly descending into dead ends, turning around to find other ways which in the end lead me only to still more dead ends' (p.403). Yup, pal - but at least you have the luxury of waking up. After reading various old manuscripts, Truant starts to replace 's' with 'f' - rather than amusing, I find that more irritating than trying to read upside down, with a mirror, or trying to find the reason for the minced up DIY catalogue/dialogue from a few days back.

There is a nice comparison to Samuel Taylor Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner', Dante and even the Bible's 'Jonah and the Whale' (as opposed to Moby Dick). The plot thickens as Karen returns to the house. Mwa hahahahaha!

( Spoilers Aplenty )

Quote of the Day
Bearing in mind that Truant has quit all of the noxious substances, yet is in a progressively worsened state for reading the 'academic' essay, he comes across a flyer under the wiper of his car.

Wanted
50 People
We'll pay you
to lo(s)e weight!

Truant: You want to lo(s)e weight, I thought to my(s)elf, well boy do I have something for you to read.

I wasn't able to do much reading yesterday, as life tends to get in the way - but I did catch up on a few pages. The narrator concentrates on the mental state of Holloway, who seems to be stumbling like a beleagured Ahab in search of a ficticious whale - but with more disasterous circumstances all round. One line I really liked was the following; 'the creature Holloway hunts has already began to feed on him' (p.334). 'H' alliteration - breathing, sighing voiceless fricative - like Holloway is already doomed on some level. Effective.

Best bit that I liked was the (ficticious) interviews from the 'What Some Have Thought' by Karen Green - which is prominent people's points of view re the film.

( Best So Far )

( Spoiler-ette )

I believe there is a certain amount of playfulness and humour in this book, where you HAVE to participate. At times, I felt like I wanted to scan and flip, but didn't because I wouldn't get the full experience. I would also say that MZD is having a laugh at the expense of stuffy establishment boundaries. Or as Steven Poole observes House of Leaves is ' a satire of academic criticism' and I am inclined to agree.

More tomorrow, when I have finished reading today.

Update

I have started p.182, just after the fact that Truant has had to go on to prescribed meds, in order to regain some sort of sanity. An interesting concpt has come up re of houses and the psychology of people. Narrow, closed houses drawn by a child who survived a German concetration camp; the theory of how doorknobs function in the psyche of 'tense' children - doorhandles mostly open, whereas key/keyholes lock. Wonder if we are back to Jung again? Hmmm.

Some interesting 'Jacob and Esau' binaries are turning up - where Zampano infers that the brothers are the net result of their upbringing; both 'paying the price for their parents' narcissism'; Navy recreating the same parental patterns with Karen, with Tom 'intervening' (p.246 & 251).

Unexpectedly for me, that went home :-/

Something I have noticed - the font for Tom's narration is not too dissimilar from Truant's own (font size a little smaller). I wonder if in some way, JT is reflecting TN's persona? This book makes you feel like you have locked yourself into the ~~Nut~~ Fun house with a Hall of Mirrors alongside.

Quote of the Day must be this;

'(Karen) must face the meaning [...] of the darkness dwelling in the depth of her house' (p.316)

Difficult as it is, I find this book absolutely gripping.

( Another Teensy Spoiler )
I have finished on p.329 - which is approaching half way through. If I suddenly disappear, for God sake send a search party in and pull me out!!!.

Prologue - Day Before Yesterday's Update

OK, so I am at a stage where things are getting a bit weird; the house dimensions have split into rooms/labyrinths/spiral staircase - none of which are seen from the outside of the property and seem pretty featureless inside (only described as an 'ashen' grey). Actually, the tunnel/stairs scenario brought me back to thinking of 9 Gimmauld Place, which very recently has had a mineshaft open up near by. Ironic: my former abode with its sad history and unnerving atmosphere - my very own retrospective 'House of Leaves'.

MZD has thrown in yeards of Greek mythology ~~that he keeps on crossing out, specifically Minos etc~~. Oh and references to Echo and Narcissus, which I can fully relate to. This is interlaced by Johnny's sexploits, which veer from mildly amusing to a bit icky, so I think MZD has succeeded in making the reader a grubby voyeur in his/her own right. Kinda making me realise that this would be a prime example to my Postmodernist module last year. An expedition has been mounted and people go missing.

( Yesterday's Reading - Teensy Spoiler )

I have heard that some people (even noted academics) have thrown it against the wall, deeming it 'unreadable trash', but I would say that the layout conveys a certain something. Johnny's drug taking and dwindling mental state, the disappearance and madness of the men seemingly either trying to kill each other, or (Reston and Navidson, take note) are seemingly being terrorised and/or 'eaten' by the house. It aptly portrays distorted time, defragmentation, claustrophobia, agoraphobia, confusion and abject madness - the fonts/spacing/lay out bear witness to this. Rather than a deterrent, I feel that it draws you in and gives you a more visceral experience of the stories.

I have read to page 182 (not so hard when the last few pages have about five lines on each page). I am sticking with this because it IS challenging, BUT...I see it as a multi-layered artefact. It is difficult to keep it all together, but I think it is worth the effort.

NOTE TO SELF- If I am ever in a labyrinth that changes dimension and/or starts 'growling' (which it does in HoL) - run for the fricken' hills!!!

I must admit to not reading at all yesterday as I was side tracked into other things. Thought for the day - is the house a pathetic fallacy that reflects the state of Navidson/Green's relationship, or even the inner working's of Navidson's mind? And... was the 'Five and a Half Minute Hallway' (theoretic or otherwise) the reason for Mallory the cat's eventual disappearance? Effectively swallowed by the house and its illusory portal? Or a personification of Karen Green's psyche (vagualy hinted as suffering from a young person's 'betrayal'), which she has to face, in order to save Navidson?

(Reminder::: The book is obviously fictional, the paper theoretic, the film a hoax, and both the account and reproduction of the article is laced by JT's drug-fuelled editing. It makes for fracturered reading, but also underlines how humans decode things in fragments and try to make sense of stuff that is subjective. Now, back to the book).

Johnny Truant (House of Leaves)

Before I start, it has to be said that it can be quite a challenging read; mostly because of the nature of the layouts, fonts and different writing styles - amongst other things. Plus, rather than try to retell the story, it would be better if I posted the link to the House of Leaves story and the link to Mark Z.Danielewski's site.

There will be additional links embedded within my post.

Disclaimer::: I know there are many House of Leaves fans out there that will know the book inside out - please have patience with me, I have only just begun.

*~*~*~*~*~*

House Of Leaves

Part of the challenge is to keep this story together, as there are many narrators, both unreliable and intertwined; also the footnotes (both Zampano's, Truant's et al.) can be difficult to unravel too. It is advisable to read the book with as fewer distractions as possible, plus I suggest maybe a bookstand, as it is 600 pages long and about A4.5 in size (for 'novel', read 'baby-style-old-school-telephone-directory').

Johnny Truant's narrative is peppered with listing, doubling/trebling and continually slides into a second person retrospective. Short sentences in old fashion type font, then long rambling sentences that would give James Joyce a run for his money (see pages 48 and 72). Is he deliquent, complex or a complex deliquent? Zampano's observations are largely third person, present tense (as you would when discussing a film in real time) and the whole lot is stitched together via footnotes and ramblings etc.

( Teeny Synopsis )

The irony of all ironies, is that I was approaching the novel in the very same way that Truant tries to unravel Zampano's work. I read, drop son at station. I read - realising that my brain has fogged over and then briefly watches Time Team and their discovery of a series of small walls. Resume reading, private wondering whether I understand it, whether MZD is a great author, or a gabbling loon etc.(I veer towards the 'great author' point of view - even if his protagonist Truant uses the modifier 'maybe' too often; it IS part of his character). Disrupted by texts, emails, hubby revising for exam. Resume reading. Rinse and repeat.

I hit page 80 yesterday - today, I will resume.

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Page Summary

Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - The Finale
Moby - Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?
Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - No Man's Land
Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - The Big Time
Moby - Music & Movement
Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - Approaching the Big Time
Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - Veganism, Breakups and the Big Time
Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - DJing in a Dodgy Place
Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - The Beginning
Reading Quest
House of Leaves - Final Review
House of Leaves - Navidson's Nemesis
House of Leaves - Karen
House of Leaves: House - 3; General Public - 0
House of Leaves - Haitus
House of Leaves - Journey to the Centre of the Book
House of Leaves - Continued
House of Leaves - Next Few Chapters
House of Leaves - First Few Chapters

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Sub Rosa

"All this talk of blood and slaying has put me off my tea"

Entries tagged with reading list 2016

Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - The Finale

Moby - Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?

Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - No Man's Land

Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - The Big Time

Moby - Music & Movement

Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - Approaching the Big Time

Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - Veganism, Breakups and the Big Time

Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - DJing in a Dodgy Place

Moby: Porcelain (Auto Biography) - The Beginning

Reading Quest

House of Leaves - Final Review

House of Leaves - Navidson's Nemesis

House of Leaves - Karen

House of Leaves: House - 3; General Public - 0

House of Leaves - Haitus

House of Leaves - Journey to the Centre of the Book

House of Leaves - Continued

House of Leaves - Next Few Chapters

House of Leaves - First Few Chapters