Essay Online

Attitude books serve to be large tomes of indecipherable concepts, no doubt designed this through to limit readership to those already tangled in this ethereal endeavor at the scholarly level. To a great extent then a regulations comes along that breaks gone from from the norm, in 1971 R. D. Lang published his ground breaking feat Knots, a Laws that could be taken on sundry remarkable levels, and more importantly, enjoyed by a wide audience.

Although using a several cut Erik Quisling has produced a alike resemble contrive with Fables From The Mud. Using relatively simple concepts we are introduced to some very merciful conditions. Whereas Lang hardened the nursery wisdom Jack and Jill characters, Quisling uses a Clam, an Ant, and a garden Worm to research his theories. And as we come to grasp, these lowly creatures have the unaltered wants and needs as humans. Habitually our wants and needs are hard to interpret, and through modeling those concepts into the lifetime of creatures with a falsely simple lifestyle, those concepts can be boiled down to ideas and needs that can be eagerly understood.

Each paginate is adorned by a na‹ve outline drawing, it took me a while to hooker on. The starkness of the outline indeed enhances the message.

Our first be faced with is with an Exasperated Clam, he is angry because of his unfitness to change the world, what can a mollusk do? We watch as he moves through a variety of emotions, fashionable increasingly disillusioned with his life. Dialect mayhap manic is a communiqu‚ that we can effectively use. As with all three of these amusing stories, Erik Quisling has a barmy in the tale.

Next up is the Ant, a undeniable blue-collar worker, and an important fellow of society at the hand level, crestfallen collar through and through. Sooner than winsome a wrong fork in the street, he discovers the ‘stone garden’, a view talked hither in ‘Ant Hill’ mythology, a land of wonder. But is it really?

Lastly is the Worm, this aging warrior has seen it all! He has achieved capacious things in his memoirs, and we find him reflecting on his whilom battles. The adrenalin highs, the trace of overcoming, and the apprehension of campaigns splendidly conducted, still do not make up for the aching vacancy he right now feels. Residing in the right now in full decomposed skull of Imprecise Grant, the worm realizes that all the battles mean nothing. The achievements of the recent are no more than a fading away memory. He has unified matrix purpose in his warrior sustenance, but can he fulfill it?

Erik Quisling uses some deeply, exceptionally misty humor in Fables From The Mud. It may be a brilliant pore over, but it is a exceedingly contemplative produce, and individual that once you eat it, you wishes have a yen for to over on the stories. Minimalist it certainly is, but it is superbly worth the rate of admission. There is something throughout everybody in this book.

Fables representing the Dirt is slated due to the fact that an October disenthral and you can order a copy through individual online booksellers.

I came to realize early on in my stay in this beautiful country of Thailand, that Thai women were not only perfectly groomed and gracious, but they were absolutely “svelte.” I mean, how many more attributes do they get? I felt like Gulliver in the land of the Lilliputians.

As a newly-arrived expat in Thailand, I looked forward to seeing everything; from the Reclining Buddha to the gold-encrusted temples. But first, I told myself, I had some serious shopping to do. With the temperature at 100 degrees and the humidity fighting for top billing, I thought the best place to kill two birds with one metaphorical stone would be at an air conditioned shopping mall. Shopping has always had a way of lifting my over-sized spirits. I’d hoped to find a cutesy little sundress that could transform my 38DD bust line and my 30 inch waist into something that looked “svelte.”

But this wasn’t just for me, this shopping business. No, no. I made it a prerequisite to always help the local economy. I was directed by our hotel’s concierge to try Robinson’s Department Store in downtown Bangkok. “Very nice clothes foh you, MaDam.”

Wow, Robinsons? Right here in downtown Bangkok? It took me thirty minutes on a hot tuk-tuk ride in the piercing heat, but I made it, unscathed and ready to spend, spend, spend. As I sauntered into what I thought was the Women’s Department, I stopped short. Oh, no, these must be the teen’s clothes. They’re much too small for an adult. I scanned the racks. Who wears a size 2? Where am I, in the Barbi and Ken Department? I couldn’t get these styles around my thigh, much less my back-side.

I could see someone walking towards me, but she looked like a teenager. Surely she’s not the salesgirl? She stopped in front of me. “Gootmoanin.”

“Oh.” I felt my face get hot. She looked like a sprite. She wasn’t a little girl after all; she was at least in her 20s and obviously the salesgirl in this department. “Uh, I, ah, was… Is there a Woman’s department in this store?”

“Yeth.” She smiled and waited expectantly.

“Oh. Well, I, ah, could you point me to it?”

“Mai kow jai ka.”

I yanked my Thai-to-English conversation book from my pocket and handed it to her. She pointed to a Thai phrase and handed the book back to me.

“Oh! You don’t understand?”

She smiled.

“Okay. Sure. Sorry.” I pointed to my well-fed body, while she watched expectantly. I then yanked on the waistline of my dress and said, “Clothes. For me.”

“Yeth,” she smiled demurely while looking at her feet, “preze foroow me.”

She led me to a small alcove, where some well-fed tourists were grazing about. Sidling up to a rather rotund shopper, I asked if she knew why we were led to this separate area. “Is it because we’re foreigners?”

She puckered up her mouth as if sucking on a sour gumball: “Yeah, honey, it’s cuz we’re foreigner’s all right, larger-than-life foreigners!” She threw back her head and guffawed at her cleverness.

“Huh?”

“The only sizes you’ll find out there,” she cocked her head towards the tiny clothes I’d just left, “are size twos to fours, and honey, that ain’t us.” She had herself another good laugh.

I snuck a peek around the room while she chortled, and realized that every body standing in this room was years past those proportions.

I knew I wasn’t going to like these svelte, tidy little women. They must be bulimic &ndash that’s it. Binge, purge, binge, purge - they’re not fooling me. Dream on, lady.

As I toured and shopped the city in the following weeks, I came to realize that the Thais were also neat and tidy in other aspects of their lives. Every department store I visited in Bangkok was unbelievably pristine. Shirts and pants, towels, linens and sportswear were not only folded and stacked, but actually looked as though folded by automation. All the garments concealed cardboard inserts to give them shape. No pins showing, no uneven edges, just as if it were a picture on display. The dresses, blouses and shirts were neatly hung on hangers according to sizes and colors. Amazing, considering the litter I’d witnessed outside on the streets of Bangkok, where every little nook and crevice harbored some sort of debris.

For us, ahem, larger sizes, I found that anything imported was deplorably high. An imported name-brand in Thailand could be four times higher than one might pay in the States. Paradoxically, Thai clothes are very inexpensive and quite stylish &ndash if you’re less than five feet tall and weigh between seventy and ninety pounds.

I made a decision then and there: Before I left this country I would diet, fast, quit eating, quit breathing; whatever it took to look as svelte as these Thai women.

Another eye-opener I found was that every place I shopped, there were at least three salespeople hovering over me, smiling, waiing &ndash a Thai greeting. So helpful! I’ll be very cranky when I return to the States and don’t get the same service.

But &ndash back to reality. After living in Thailand for a few months, I learned the secret of the segregated clothing. The salespeople have the perfect solution for us larger sizes. It’s called “Won Sigh” &ndash meaning HUGE. You enter the clothing department, and unless you’re built like Twiggy, the sweet, smiling, ever-helpful salesgirls &ndash who all look pre-pubescent &ndashsteer you toward the “Won Sigh” department. This is where you’ll find all the loose-fitting, baggy, beachy, gauzy, hippie-looking outfits, and all claiming to fit ONE SIZE; from size 8 all the way up to Mama Cass. This is their way of saving face - yours. They would never dream to insinuate you were large, fat, obese, or chubby. You just happen to fall into the category of Won Sigh.

As I departed Robinsons in my new muumuu, nearly tripping over the hemline, I got a glimpse of my reflection in the display window. YIKES! Picture Hilo Hattie in strappy sandals.

(Excerpted from A Broad Abroad in Thailand by Dodie Cross, with permission).

It has become obvious to all but the most unrelentingly stubborn apologists for the oil industry that we now stand at a pivotal moment in the history of our planet. As much fun as it would be to make fun of Al Gore’s pretentious drawl and expanding bald spot, none of us can afford to ignore his clarion call for global change. With humankind’s carbon footprint leaving a catastrophic impact upon Mother Earth, it is the sacred responsibility of every citizen to make a change for the better. We can all agree on that much, but the next question is a lot thornier: How exactly do you start?

As in so many vital areas of life, when confronted by a monumental task it is beneficial to start with something small. In other words, begin by taking a “micro” view of your “macro” problem. Numerous studies have indicated that the more we are taught to respect and even love the tiniest creatures, the deeper connection we will feel to the planet at large. So if you’re looking to address climate change in your own way, you might want to start by picking up a copy of Fables From the Mud by Erik Quisling. This book, simple in structure yet profound in implication, illuminates the plight of Earth’s smallest inhabitants in a style that will make you laugh even as your empathy expands.

The first thing you are apt to notice about Fables is the fluid interchange between illustrations and text. This book has been designed with such a graceful simplicity that you could easily read it cover to cover in a single sitting. Indeed, once you’ve gotten a sense of its sharp humor and cerebral charms, you may be tempted to consume the whole thing while in the middle of a crowded book store.

Try to avoid this temptation, as you will find Fables to be a veritable banquet of philosophical speculation and belly laughs. How in God’s name, you may be wondering, can one book offer such seemingly incongruous rewards? The answer to that question is the secret of Quisling’s triumph. He has crafted three distinct but thematically connected tales,focusing on some of the Earth’s least respected inhabitants: a clam, an ant, and an earthworm. Against all expectation, Quisling turns these lowly invertebrates into heroes of truly epic scale.

By infusing so much ambiguous life and recognizably human foibles into its three-pack of protagonists, Fables allows readers to understand these creatures as reflections of ourselves. Laughable as the clam’s frustration with the emptiness of his existence might seem, is our own periodic despair any less ridiculous? It all comes down to a matter of perspective, which seems to be one of Quisling’s primary lessons.

After reading this timeless book, you may find yourself thinking twice before stepping on the next ant you see crossing the sidewalk. He’s a guest on this ailing planet, just like you. And for all you know, he might be in the middle of an heroic struggle worthy of mention in a book Fables From the Mud.

Over the course of the past decade, authors and readers alike have been heard to utter a collective groan of dismay as the once elite publishing industry continues to resemble the multiplex tripe factory of Hollywood, churning out one cookie cutter product after another.

This situation would be funny (considering the supreme cultural snobbery most New York-based editors feel for their moviemaking brethren on the opposite coast) were it not for the fact that each new conglomeration in publishing has a chilling effect on both the quantity and quality of new books released.

This law of diminishing returns is frightful in its implications. With every major publisher looking to balance out its annual loss leaders with one big Potter-esque mega-hit, it’s inevitable that midlist authors are all but ignored. What chance do aspiring voices have in this environment, particularly those who seek to produce works of bold innovation?

Though the situation looks bleak, there is one very bright silver lining. The recent emergence of independent publishers has brought to light many excellent books that would have otherwise languished in obscurity. A prime example of this happy trend is Borderlands Press. Since 19989, publisher (and prolific award-winning author in his own right) Thomas F. Monteleone has been putting out deluxe limited edition releases of works by some of the biggest names in genre and horror fiction. Starting in 2007, Monteleone decided it was time to broaden his horizons with a new line of trade paperback originals.

Having already released Virgin by esteemed horror scribe F. Paul Wilson earlier in the year, Borderlands is now offering a wildly original collection of three new stories in one volume. Fables From the Mud by Erik Quisling is already being hailed as an instant cult classic that will rank along with “Jonathan Livingston Seagull” and the collected works of Shel Silverstein.

Applying robust humor and a decidedly philosophical approach to some of life’s greatest mysteries, Quisling introduces us to three extraordinary invertebrate heroes: the Angry Clam, Glen the Ant, and Julius Gunther Weems the Warrior Worm. Page by page, Fables From the Mud dazzles readers with the gripping stories of these three small wonders. Though at first glance it may appear to have the simplicity of a children’s book, be forewarned this is one tome that packs a king-sized wallop.

Hilarious and thought-provoking by turns, Fables is sure to challenge even the heartiest of readers. It is a book to cherish long after you’ve finished it for the first (of many) times.

Meanwhile, Thomas Monteleone continues to push ahead with his ambitious trade paperback line. In late October, Borderlands Press releases his own novel, Serpentine, and January of 2008 will see the release of Crimson Orgy, the much-anticipated debut novel by Austin Williams. As long as Monteleone and other trailblazing publishers of his ilk keep promoting quality fiction from talented new voices, book lovers across America can feel confident there will always be something interesting to read outside the narrow parameters of what the elite publishing industry deems “commercial.”

A novel based around real estate in Miami, I was not convinced that I would enjoy it. I had thoughts of tawdry love affairs among realtor’s, and board room struggles between power brokers. But, instead I found a hugely entertaining, and side splittingly funny novel that makes me chuckle every time I see the cover. This is humor at its very apex. Humor is a hard genre to be successful in but this author definitely has ‘The Write Stuff.’

Alan Rolnick has created a vignette of life in Miami with Landmark Status that deserves a spot on the best seller list. The characters are wild, bent politicians, bent land developers, and even a Ponzi scheme thrown in for good measure, and what finer setting than Miami?

The hero in our story is attorney Steven Benjamin Bluestone, Benjy to his friends. Benjy is a delightful character, and as he explains early in the book, he became an attorney because his father was one, but he has little interest in wrangling and courtroom drama preferring the more sedate type of lawyering that involves smoking Cuban cigars and ogling young ladies! He avoids at all cost the world of Real Estate, ‘Dirt Lawyers’ is how he describes them.

Unfortunately for Benjy an old client returns, one who had used his services in a divorce (something else that Benjy doesn’t do), and persuades him to assist in a ‘dirt deal’. If Benjy has a fault it is not being able to say no, when ex client, and friend Walter, who also happens to own one of Benji’s favorite watering holes needs ‘dirt help’, he leaps, albeit reluctantly, into the ride of his life.

The rather decrepit Century Club that Walter owns has suddenly become a much sought after piece of dirt. And there are few lengths that an unscrupulous developer will not go to secure it’s ownership.

The characters that Alan Rolnick has created are wild. But they are so well crafted they take on a reality in the readers mind. From the accident prone Benjy, to the money hungry mayor Oscar Torres, the even money hungrier would be land developer Chuck Steinbeck and his slightly aging trophy wife Evelyn, they are all so well described I can guarantee you will love them. And these are just the beginning, we also have love interest from the Mayors niece Delia, we have Raj the Cigar Man, oh, and of course Rico the bungling bodyguard!

This is a riotous book, you are laughing on page one, and you are still laughing on the last page. There are cars wrecked, planes burned, Voodoo curses, even cemeteries desecrated, and this is all achieved with a dark humor that I find hard to believe comes from a first time author. This is also a book that would transition easily into a very very funny movie. And I did note that Alan Rolnick is not only an attorney, and an author, he is also a director, so come on Alan, make it happen!

Philosophy books tend to be large tomes of incomprehensible concepts, no doubt designed this way to limit readership to those already involved in this ethereal endeavor at the academic level. Very occasionally a book comes along that breaks out from the norm, in 1971 R. D. Lang published his ground breaking work Knots, a Book that could be taken on many different levels, and more importantly, enjoyed by a wide audience.

Although using a different style Erik Quisling has produced a similar work with Fables From The Mud. Using relatively simple concepts we are introduced to some very human conditions. Whereas Lang used the nursery rhyme Jack and Jill characters, Quisling uses a Clam, an Ant, and a garden Worm to explore his theories. And as we get to see, these lowly creatures have the same wants and needs as humans. Often our wants and needs are hard to explain, and by modeling those concepts into the life of creatures with a seemingly simple lifestyle, those concepts can be boiled down to ideas and needs that can be readily understood.

Each page is adorned by a simple line drawing, it took me a while to catch on. The starkness of the drawing actually enhances the message.

Our first encounter is with an Angry Clam, he is angry because of his inability to change the world, what can a mollusk do? We watch as he moves through a variety of emotions, becoming increasingly disillusioned with his life. Maybe manic is a word that we can effectively use. As with all three of these entertaining stories, Erik Quisling has a twist in the tale.

Next up is the Ant, a hard worker, and an important member of society at the worker level, blue collar through and through. By taking a wrong fork in the road, he discovers the ‘stone garden’, a place talked about in ‘Ant Hill’ mythology, a land of wonder. But is it really?

Lastly is the Worm, this aging warrior has seen it all! He has achieved great things in his life, and we meet him reflecting on his past battles. The adrenalin highs, the taste of victory, and the knowledge of campaigns well conducted, still do not make up for the aching emptiness he now feels. Residing in the now completely decomposed skull of General Grant, the worm realizes that all the battles mean nothing. The achievements of the past are no more than a passing memory. He has one last purpose in his warrior life, but can he fulfill it?

Erik Quisling uses some very, very dark humor in Fables From The Mud. It may be a quick read, but it is a very contemplative work, and one that once you finish it, you will want to reflect on the stories. Minimalist it certainly is, but it is well worth the price of admission. There is something for everyone in this book.

Fables for the Mud is slated for an October release and you can order a copy through various online booksellers.