Oh my god...

So this is wonder? Bliss? Glory and the gestation of nobility in the fetid gullet of the human race? Huzzah!

And why am I thus?

Books.

I spent over two hundred dollars in Joseph Beth, and I put back a bunch of books. That makes me sad. Now, for the inevitable laundry list!

By William Gibson, we have Mona Lisa Overdrive and Burning Chrome. The first is one of his most popular novels, and the second is a book of short stories.

Next, by Terry Pratchett, we see Equal Rites, a story about a female wizard in a patriarchal Discworld society, and Wyrd Sisters, the first Granny Weatherwax book.

I finally own Neil Gaimans Neverwhere.

I got Ursula K. le Guin's A Wizard of Earthsea. I read a short story from the Earthsea universe, and quite liked it. So I decided to pick this up.

I got the fourth and fifth of this series from one of my professors, so I finally bought Seventh Son by Orson Scott Card. It was all of four dollars. Hurrah.

At Rogue277's behest I bought Eoin Colfer's first Aretemis Fowl book.

I bought the first two books in Neal Stephenson's The Baroque Cycle. They are Quicksilver and The Confusion. Now, I read his novel Snow Crash a while back, and had wanted to read more of his work? What prompted me to buy both now, and in hardcover, no less? They were selling The Confusion signed by Stephenson, from the publisher. It has a special page and everything, proclaiming it both first edition and signed. Wonderful.

Both for my general amusement and the noble purpose of furthering my novel, I bought Joseph Campbell's The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Russdur should be pleased about that. I also bought W. Y. Evans-Wentz's The Fairy Faith in Celtic Countries.

I finally own His Dark Materials, the trilogy by Philip Pullman. I read the first book, The Golden Compass, last semester.

And this book excites me perhaps most of all. It is glorious. It is timely. It is an example of superiority in the human race. It is Eats, Shoots & Leaves. Nonsensical, you say? It's by Lynne Truss. I'll retell the story given on the back cover:

There was a pleasant coffee shop on the corner. Comfortable and pleasant smells filled the warm afternoon air. The door jingled, and a waiter glanced up to see a panda walk through the door. Confused for a moment, he gathered the panda wanted to order. He was correct. The panda ordered a sandwich. The panda had its sandwich in silence, rose, fired a pistol into the air, and made to exit. The waiter ran over to the creature. "Why did you do that?" he exclaimed.

The panda gave him a poorly punctuated wildlife guide and walked out. The harried waiter, looked on by the other patrons, turned to a marked section, which read: "Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots, and leaves."

(An apology: I punctuated the last bit with the Oxford comma, while the original doesn't use it.)

Yes, it's a book about grammar. Specifically a book to rally those of us still up nights, shuddering over signs proclaiming "used CD's sold here." Ugh. Sticklers Unite! It has some of the best examples of what poor punctuation can do to the language, and has given me the resolve needed to carry my large red Sharpie on my person.