Varanger: Judging a book by its cover 1.1

When I began to volunteer at the library at which I now work, this cover was in the "New Books" section. The earth-toned colors and curiously titled tome arrested my attention. It has been two and a half years since that day, and I have just now finished it.

The book concerns the two mercenary cousins, Raef and Conn, and the trouble that they find when contracted to the whims of other men. The narrative follows three masters, each more distant than the last.

Raef was the son of a slave woman, and is gifted with unexplained senses - He 'feels' his surroundings and has an intuition for impending danger. He uses his skills sometimes to predict the game of dice to his advantage, and at other times merely to keep track of Conn's whereabouts.

Conn needs the oversight - He is a hot-blooded warrior, conflict roils in his wake. He is single minded and fancies power and women, preferably both.

The story unfolds in Roman Empire Europe, in a small town to which the Varanger lord, Thorfinn retires with his crew. He keeps Conn and Raef as his security in the town. Thorfinn is a reasonable man, he teaches Conn how to play chess, and how that mindset transfers to life. The town leader, Dobrynya, is a canny and crafty old man, uncle to the ruler of the Rus', Volodymyr. The Sclava and Varanger are two different tribes, the Rus' is the movement to unite the seafaying Varangers with the land master Sclava to create a nation. Dobrynya has a town enforcer, Pavo, who keeps the peace with a greased palm and a sadistic whip.

Conn and Pavo are soon made rivals, neither one wanting to relent that the other is the better fighter. Pavo cheats in hand-to-hand, having the aforementioned whip, as well as a kind of brass knuckles hidden in the back of his belt and the infamous knife in his boot. Conn and Raef winter in the town, but as conflicts and scuffles continue between Conn and Pavo, Dobrynya proposes to hire the cousins for a raiding party to the south.

Raef and Conn travel by boat while the Sclava keep pace by land. Even the pace becomes a competition between the two tribes - Who will reach the designated campsite first? Conn and Raef's crew is composed of wanderers, vikings, and icelanders, these thirteen qualify as Varangers to the scoffing Sclava war band. But as the journey continues, these men become a tight-knit group of blood brothers, united under the banner of Conn's determination and Raef's navigation.

They finally reach Kiev, the hometown of the Dobrynya's nephew, Volodymyr, head of the Sclava and Varanger by the bloodlines of the leaders' union. Volodymyr is confident and idealistic in his dream of one nation. He seeks out other gods to fulfill this vision into a reality, making his personal Faithful Guard uneasy - they love their master, but they are servants of Thor and the Norse deities, other religions are strange and untrustworthy.

The Dobrynya plays his hand - as Conn and Raef are under his command, he joins his nephew in a campaign to take the Greek trading stronghold of Chersonese. During the planning, Raef and a Muslim dignitary discuss the roles of God and man. Raef is a simple humanist, believing that man can and should reach his full potential without the medium of a deity. He frustrates the Arab, who sees Allah as the only way, graceful and merciful in allowing infidels to convert to him by their own free will. Raef challenges the Arab that if the Muslims believe in not enslaving other Muslims, and that Baghdad is built on the backs of slaves, then his stated wish that all become Muslim is incompatible with the ugly reality of the world.

The Arab leaves to return to Baghdad, his baggage full of notes taken upon the Sclava and their ways, in order to understand them and convert more effectively when Allah's will descends upon the North. However, he took with him the knowledge that Volodymyr plans to lay siege to Chersonese, a stop upon his journey home. Raef and Conn see danger in this, Dobrynya has faith that the dignitary was a friend.

The climax of the book is the campaign against Chersonese and the fallout from the decisions that are made by those who place power upon the wills of others. How dear a word is kept by those who pledge loyalty, and how little value is given to the owner of the promise. Life does not promise ribbons and bows as the last words are spoken, and neither does this book follow the unspoken dictates of literature.

Will this continue
As a sustainable thread
How to tie it up?

X-men First Class - Another Universe away.

I must confess to start. I am a devoted Marvel fan, especially since Brian Michael Bendis and Ed Hickman started their careers at the superhero icon. It seems trivial to review issues and storylines in a blog, unless specifically designed for that purpose. I will endeavor not to cross that line, as it takes a retcon to be "in" on what the significance of the current events are.

Movies, however, I can and will review. First class starts with Erik Lenshurr, the future villain Magneto, as a child in a Nazi concentration camp. He unlocks his mastery of metal through the rage in watching his mother die before his eyes. Meanwhile, in New York, a young Charles Xavier is awoken in the night by the sounds of a break-in. When reaching the kitchen, he meets Raven Darkholme, a mutant with the ability to shape-shift. Charles invites her to stay as a friend, she need not steal her food. Years pass, Erik vows revenge on those who tortured and shamed him, Charles attends college and publishes a thesis statement on Mutation and its Effects upon Human Race's history. Xavier is confident and arrogant in his ability to read the minds of others. Raven likes him, but he views her in the abstract box of a companion - one who shares his odd genetic line, although she looks like a freak in her original form of blue skin and yellow eyes.

Sebastian Shaw, head of the gentleman's group The Hellfire Club, is also a mutant, but he has bigger plans than just fitting into society. He assembles a core of Emma Frost (a telepath with diamond skin), Azareal (a teleporter), and Riptide (Air manipulator). They manipulate the political conflict between Russia and America, wanting to bring about a nuclear war that would kill humans and strengthen mutant strains. Xavier and Lenshurr meet while attempting to stop Shaw, and agree to form a counter group to better achieve that end goal. They find Alex Summers (Havok, an energy wielder), Hank McCoy (Beast, brilliant and has hands for feet), Armando Munoz (Darwin, ability to adapt his physiology to survive), Angel Salvatore (Angel, she has proportional dragonfly wings [Digression - in the written Marvel Universe, her name is Tempest and she is nowhere near this timeline.]).

The strain in the movie grows between optimistic Xavier and embittered Magneto. One wants to preserve both humans and mutants, the other wants it to be all or nothing. Shaw is a great opponent for the films, as he absorbs all physical damage as energy and can channel it back to the sender. (The harder you fight him, the better he becomes). The setting of the movie around the Cold War is an interesting stroke, and the effects are impressive. I must say that my favorite part of the movie was Hugh Jackman's cameo appearance. As a Caveat to sensible viewers, Hellfire Club and the meeting of Angel both feature risque apparel in an otherwise periodly modest environment. Overall, a good standalone movie, yards above X-Men Origins: Wolverine, but Xavier's character came across as lucky and arrogant. He doesn't have to train throughout the movie, and yet his finale comes through in spades. I liked the acting of Erik, Raven, and Hank - they were relatable and had appropriate levels of sympathy for the decisions they make during the course of the film.

Monsters or heroes?
Are Villains born or just formed?
Be the better man...

Mysterious Stranger - Exercise in Innocence and Instinct

Mysterious Stranger, By Mark Twain.

It happened one night that I was made witness to a profoundly distressing and unsettling short film of this title. The hour was late and gathered in a friend’s house, we left off our pastime of friendly local area network competition to engage in another favorite amusement – video sharing. The host of the party pulled up the video linked below and the author of its origin intrigued me. I rather like Mark Twain, for he is an American icon as Winston Churchill is in English lore, both are famed for his cleverness, wit, and a timely word.

When I returned homeward the following day, I retrieved the video on Youtube and reviewed it, wondering if it was as startling the second time. You judge for yourselves, but use discretion – the masked spirit’s voice alone sends chills down my spine.

This is a long introduction to the actual book, which caught my eye at my local library, wondering, “How far is this off the mark?” Truth is, that most of the dialogue from the Claymation is faithful to the book, but the delivery is more subtly disturbing. The literary framework is 1590 in a small village, with two vicars. The first clergy member is Adolf, a man who met the devil and threw his glass of wine at the fiend, and Peter, a kindly old priest who is the only one not to fear the power of the local astrologer. This stargazer is a sly and devious sort, and holds the village in awe of his abilities to predict war and famine. (Twain makes it a point to say that this is not very impressive, for one or the other is always going on in the world.) When the three boys walk in the woods, they meet the mysterious stranger. The stranger tells them offhandedly that it is an angel, named Satan. Lucifer is his uncle. The stranger claims, and he is distractedly amused by humanity, the same way humans are amused by cat videos online – cute, but utterly foolish and not ultimately worth your full attention.

The stranger, who asks to be called Phillip Traum in other company, takes a fancy to the trio and gives them whatever they wish, all while decrying humanity and its “Moral Sense” which allows us to knowingly commit vile actions and take pleasure in their execution. The boys feel ashamed and compelled to defend their race, to the thought reading spirit’s patient amusement and derision. Satan compares himself and humanity like a red spider and an elephant. The spider’s life is a day, the elephant’s is a century. Does the elephant notice the spider’s wants, needs, aspirations, and wishes? If it deigned to take an active interest in the spider’s life, it might misstep and squash the creature, but if the elephant put its mind to the task, it could do the spider a small good turn in a disinterested and humoring attitude and the spider could be that much better off. Satan says it is rather like that multiplied to an exponential amount and intellectual distance.

Throughout the book, the trio desire Traum’s company, for in his presence, life becomes that much more interesting and exciting. This is similar to a darkened Perelandra by C.S. Lewis from the lady’s perspective and minus Ransom’s influence. It is innocence vs. enticement and temptation. Temptation need not be blatantly obvious as evil, it is the little steps along the way that lead from a faulty foundation of logic to a horrifying conclusion. Consequences come quietly and solemnly, rationalizations are softly and sweetly deployed, and the end is profoundly disorienting and philosophically unsettling.

“Life itself is only a vision, a dream… Nothing exists; all is a dream. God – man – the world – the sun, the moon, the wilderness of stars – a dream, all a dream; they have no existence. Nothing exists save empty space – and you! And you are not you – you have no body, no blood, no bones, you are but a thought. I myself have no existence; I am but a dream – Your dream, creature of you imagination. In a moment you will have realized this, then you will banish me from your visions and I shall dissolve into nothingness out of which you made me…” - Satan to the protagonist.

As a figure in a fictional world, it is true that Phillip, Peter, the astrologist, the three boys, are all figments of imagination and Satan’s presence doubly so. But taken to our dimension of reality, such thoughts are problematic. There is a Liar’s paradox of sorts in this. Satan is the father of lies, but quoted scripture when it suited his needs. Whatever he touches, even in this book by Twain, crumbles and is perverted. This angel is no saint, this creature is not human, this being’s morals are warped and twisted to feel perfectly logical and kind. If the only kindness to life is madness and death I would defy even those options and make a new path.

As with Puddleglum in C.S. Lewis’s the Silver Chair "Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things -- trees and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones . . . That's why I'm going to stand by the play world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there is no Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live like a Narnian even if there is no Narnia." Our faith is not blind, we see the signs of a greater hand involved in the creation of the world, a greater meaning behind the miracle of life, motion, and reason, a greater hope and purpose for which we may live and die for with sense of accomplishment and pride. I will not believe a fiction, though I will search its’ depths to find hope in the human heart and mind. As the eyes are the windows to the soul, so is a book a gateway to an author’s mindscape. We may discover things that others brush over in the tour, or even uncover nuggets of wisdom and cautionary examples of which the writer never considered that he or she knew. But we are ever to learn, even when the surface is murky, we must ever learn discernment and cut to the truth of the matter.

This caused me to think,

“What if there was no safety?”

Surprised by joy = Net

There is hope and life

Fictions and lies hold fragments

Twisted beyond truth.

Spilled Musings - The unfinished memoirs of a Sojourner, Part IV.

Radio Silence, for my mission in life needs a mask, a cover, a feeling of obscurity. As with a solider gathering information in on a reconnaissance assignment, I am personally fascinated by the doings of others. I know that it is stereotypical to say that my name is not important, but it truly is not – it is merely a label bestowed upon me by my mortal guardians, a tag by which to distinguish the inhabitants of this diverse planet. It is not always as successful as some would wish as well, there are so many Anthony Johnson’s and Peter Green’s in this world to prove this uniqueness to be but a fable.

Which brings me to my second observation – Why is it that in the labels assigned to new arrivals there are so many –sons and color surnamed titles? The race of humanity is oddly consistent in this aspect. We, the rulers of this realm, have an internal conflict between reason and emotion; occasionally experiences and connotation form the deciding undercurrents to snap judgments made every moment. People on a global scale are equally self-sufficient, motivated, and dependent.

I was at one point challenged as to my racial identity as part of a learning exercise performed during an academic event. As the nationalities were voiced “Caucasian, Asian, African, Hispanic, Italian, etc.” I stood firm, raising a few eyebrows among fellow participants. When queried as to my identity, I replied simply that I am a human, they laughed uncomfortably and changed the subject. My answer was too simple and considered a little arrogant. So it might have been, and I may have been trying to press a point – Humans are so quick to diagnose, categorize and label their surroundings as a coping mechanism.

When we are spawned into this world in the form of infants, we are pure need, and are unashamed of our appetites and weaknesses. During the periods in our young waking lives when all needs are met, we learn to take in our surroundings and react accordingly. The novelty and wonder of this environment expands our open minds, overwhelming our senses and thought. Through years of training and conditioning, we learn to focus – to block out the minor details in favor of the general idea. To dwell on analyzing every facet would distract us from making a timely decision, and if there is anything upon this earth that humans serve uniformly, it is time.

From the moment we comprehend a moment, philosophic, scientific, and religious conundrums are made manifest and real. We are mortal, physical beings. How did we get here? What role do I have to play in this cosmic scheme? What do I need to learn from experience rather than accepting by faith?

Many more questions abound, but it is the last question that intrigues me for now. From a scientific mindset, we are to be skeptical of any ultimate truth or law of the Universe. There are measurements to make, experiments to conduct, and averages to calculate. Once the work has panned out to a statistically significant result, the event’s conclusions will serve as data for future testing. There is no end, as there can be no certainty of a beginning. We have to arise from an initial state, but that would be to assume that there existed intelligence before us. The farther back the idea of existence pre-me travels, the less of a feeling of long-lasting notability.

From a philosophic standpoint, the questions are encouraged and built upon an inquisitive desire to learn. For at its core, philosophy is an exciting field – the quest to know how we know what we know. And the general synopsis of our learning is: The more we learn, the more we learn that we need to learn more. Theories are tossed as leaves in a storm, but one in which the individual thoughts collide and form new shapes from the old for a moment in time. For no two humans have the same set of experiences, or even impressions of the same event. The emotional side of the human state is emphasized by sensitive souls, while the colder and logical minds state that humanity is primarily reasonable and rational. A third, fringe group calls the polar ends both faulty and declares mankind to be a lucky chance of fate, we are no more than the current top of the ecological food chain – we are but developed beasts through the concept of civilization. Millions more derivations and alterations are to be found – seeded in the matchless and unique minds of the human race throughout space and time.

Occasionally, a few humans happen to cross paths and find that their destination and mindset are compatible and become travelling companions. This is the basis for religion, or shared thought. Men have a need for a purpose in life; most express that desire through the form of worship. The only real possession that humanity owns is ourselves and our time slot of existence. Worship is simply time used to pursue a thought, idea, vision, or concept. Farmers desire to work the land and reap its bounty, sailors long to tame the sea, warriors long to gain through their physical strength and power. Whatever it is that we humans do, it defines us as a person and shapes our future decision making progress.

I nearly forgot this part!

It is now a tradition.

Need Inspiration...

Somethings in a Sequence

I have not been idle during my absence, just distracted.

Girl at sea, by Maureen Johnson.

This is a young adult book about broken people and how their jagged edges tear new wounds in those they love. (A summary for many books in this age group.) Clio is the daughter of an artist and a dreamer, who parted ways after the fallout of fame and fortune. It all started with a board game she created on a rainy vacation. Clio and her father were on the same brainwaves these days and the game took shape, culminating in a mainstream release that had a lot of success. Then her father signed an agent, who took off with all the rights and money. Clio's family fell apart and she lived with her mother in Philadelphia. Out of the blue, Clio's father announces that he is going to be in Italy for the summer and would like to have Clio join him. He bought a yacht and is spending the sunny days out on the water.

Clio is reluctant to leave - she had established a niche in Philly, and privately holds her father and his enthusiastic "Jump first, think later" attitude for losing their family's stability along with the savings. What her father neglected to mention was that aside for him and his business partner and family friend, Martin, he was bringing his new girlfriend. Julia is a research scientist and single mother to Elsa, a gorgeous Swede-English young lady, who sweetly and perkily warms up to Clio as a friend. Also, there is Aidan, Julia's assistant, who is privy to the real reason behind why Clio's dad is taking this trip. Clio catches on that there is something odd in the fact that this trip required so much computer gadgetry and yet no wi-fi available for her to communicate with anyone off-ship. (Coincidentally, that would make a great title for a post-apocalyptic novel, "The End of the World and no Wi-Fi..."). Clio is disgruntled with her father's position to call her from her American home and put her aboard a ship in the middle of nowhere. She determines to pry out the truth and what she discovers is a long lost tale of an 19th century girl and the ruins of Pompeii...

Summer Moonshine, P.G. Wodehouse.

An actual review of a Wodehouse book? Did I not say that to do so is to risk exposing the intricacies of the plot? I will endeavor to do so to the best of my ability. It all takes place in an English Manor, in which a tight-belted Sir Buckstone Abbott is forced to rent out his country estate in order to survive. His Manor is no ordinary country house, the original was burnt down mid last century and remodeled by his late ancestor during a fit of amateur architecture. Unfortunately, the styling of the exterior is a shade of salmon pink that is straining to the eyes.

Teddy is a lodger on the estate, and he has a problem - the love of his life received a mysterious package in the mail and refuses to tell him the contents. She happens to be the secretary of Sir Abbott, a straight-laced working girl who speaks with an oxford affection in her tone. The subsequent rift between her and Teddy causes her to file a suit against the foppish American for breach of contract in their engagement. She hires the brother-in-law of Mr. Abbott, who serves such notices in court. One of Abbott's guests is familiar with this man and his tenacity to his job. This Mr. Bulpitt brags that only one man escaped his pursuit for serving notices and that was for reasons of the old man dying.
Mr. Abbott's daughter, Jane, is an enterprising young woman. Teddy's brother, Joe Vanringham, falls hard for her during a chance visit in London. Where Teddy is soft and pudgy in thought and in action, his brother is lean and sharp as a whip. Joe got the boot out of the house shortly after reaching the age of responsibility. Joe has made it big by writing a play based loosely upon his own experiences with his mother. Teddy and Joe's mother is a social butterfly with razor sharp wings, known for her manner of marrying and divorcing multiple times, reaping the titles and wealth from her unfortunate victims. Her latest target is Adrian Peake, a detestable hanger-on of humanity, with a vulnerable appearance that brings out the nurturing instinct in all women. Teddy and Joe both hate him abstractly for who he is. Even worse, young Adrian is two-timing with the lovely Jane Abbott.
The book's climax deals with the arrival of the former Mrs. Vanringham, now through marriage known as the Princess Dwornitzchek, who intends to purchase the salmon pink estate of the Abbott's possession.
Will Teddy be outmaneuvered and served by Mr. Bulpitt?
Will Adrian Peake be exposed as a fraud or weasel his way out to his advantage?
Will that ugly Salmon Pink bricked house be sold through the chaos and complications of love, fear, and miscommunication?

Did not finish this, Why?
Life flows by like a river.
Will it ever catch me?

The longer I stall
The lesser I write at all
Streak beginning fail.

We shall see in time
Hope to carry on the blog
See you when I do.

Half of a hundred.

What have I accomplished over my break?
I intended to do so much, but my resolve was weakened by desire and Fate.

I read "Meet Mr. Mulliner" by P.G. Wodehouse an was entertained by the Englishman's list of interesting family and relations. Such as the Stuttering Nephew who had an unfortunate day of trying to overcome his shyness by talking to three of the wrong strangers. And the brother who was a master chemist, and designer of "Buck-U-Uppo," a formula that would invigorate an elephant to challenge Indian tigers on hunts. Another nephew consumes this potion and is revitalized with courage and vigor after a long existence as a timid curate. This formula completely changes the trajectory of his life, granting him a backbone, a wife, and a living.
Very enjoyable, very funny, and an absolutely engaging and fast paced collection of short anecdotes. I am reading another Wodehouse right now.

The Fall, Chuck Hogan and Guillermo del Toro.
This is the second book of the Strain trilogy. I finished it at a rather adequate pace. It delves into the origin of Setrikan's hate and mission for killing the fallen angels that are the vampire race. The six Ancients are revealed and take their third faction into clearing up the infestation of the Master's reckless feeding. Palmer, the Master's human contact is dying slowly and wants to be turned into an immortal bloodsucker as a final means of survival - his personal vice in life is to prolong his existence, and science is failing him. The book of the vampire's history is up for auction, but it carries a legendary and mysterious history of "accidents" for those who possess the contents. Overall, a decent apocalypse series for those interested in supra-natural means of world decay and destruction.

She and Him, Vol. Two.
What shall I say about this perennial part of my blog's outlook? It is lovely and unique in its folksy, laid back feel. "In the Sun" is a favorite of mine with its cheerful sense of playfulness in the game of gaining attention of a love interest. "Gonna get along without you now" is a cute-cut of realizing the reality of a false friend, well written and arranged farewell tune and parting shot.
"If you can't sleep" is a soothing lullaby that comforts my mind and calms my spirit, it soars and swoops through my mind in a lovely pattern.

Finally, a parting thought in short verse. It amuses me and challenges my mind to conjure them up on the wing. I have not the observation and intuitiveness to know when it is tiring to my audience...

Woke up this morning to discover my break was gone.
Back to school and its responsibilities - What have I done?
I LoL'ed a lot over the week, spent time with friends, and slept in late.
However, Saturday had woken my heart, feeling the pull of guilt innate.
"Forsooth!" I pondered, "I have a speech. I must revise, I should outreach!"
I wrote and thought and thought and wrote, my topic trivial, but 'tis trivia that I know.
I keep in my mind facts obscure, why they stick to my memory is left unsure.
My first class dealt with concepts to compute - ASCII code, Inputs, OS's to boot.
My second class was speechified, I had to concentrate, and I feel confident and fine.
(Though my presentation was rough at points, my transitions and purpose lent me good points).
My third class concerned Mode, Median, and Mean. Twas all finite math, and baby steps into problems quite keen. For while the class was deceptively smooth, I know the applications will flip my brain quickly to move.
I left for the day, my first reentry complete. I walked to my bus stop listened to my iPod touch's tones so sweet. However, my battery died before I embarked, on my journey hope, silence accompanied my reading of Wodehouse's art.
I received a haircut, for my mane was growing long. My bangs were quite stubborn, and was wavy and wrong. Snip, Snip, Snip, that problem is gone, my maintenance is simplified as the strands fall anon.
I proceed to my job - organizing my carts, of books and CD's to be shelved and re-caught. Libraries are truly Franklin's greatest idea, this Daylight Savings Time is his worst I fear.
I enjoy the power to explore and learn more, from Bios to Fiction, it all is adored.
I saw a young lady who made eye contact and waved. I didn't recall making her acquaintance, so I nodded as my mind struggled to be saved. Was I really to know her: a face to recall? I had no clues, so I continued shelving the YA wall. My closing duties completed, I locked up and left.
Home is so welcoming, my family never of entertainment bereft. For whether it be youngest asking us to pretend to laugh, or viewing the results of the March Tournament of (Wrath?).
My family is loving, my friends likable to know.
I hope that this description fits you, my reader, to agree with "just so."

Haikus tradition
Why five-seven-five framework?
Ah! Pray for Japan...

Creating A Scene - The Improv Everywhere story

Charlie Todd was just another aspiring actor in NY City. Todd's aspirations took on a different trajectory one night when he received a friend in his apartment. "Hi Ben Folds!"
Todd decided that as a gag, he and his buddy should put their acting chops to the test by posing as Mr. Folds and a dedicated fan in a bar. Ten minutes after they enter separately, Todd's buddy approaches him at the bar and calls him "out" as the pop pianist. Amazingly, it succeeds and the two become the toast of the bar. From such humble beginnings was Improv Everywhere spawned.

Their Youtube channel has recieved millions of views for their "Food Court Musical" (People stand and add verses with no seeming connection between performers' lives), "Frozen Grand Central" (Agents are planted in the infamously busy terminal and pause in position for three and a half minutes, drawing the attention and curiosity of the daily commuters), and the awkward "No Pants Subway Ride" held annually (It is what it sounds...).

This book, "Creating a Scene" is an insider's view of the work that goes into these "victimless" pranks, and first person accounts, views, tips, and suggestions for how to pull them off on as smaller level in your community. My favorite one to read about was "the Moebius," a mission that revolved around a group of 7 "agents" performing the same series of actions for an hour of 5 minute loops. By the third iteration, people began to notice the pattern. The video quality for the prank (found on Youtube) was spotty, grainy, and sounded mostly of murmurs. Still the person carrying the boombox blaring "Shiny Happy People" was pretty funny!

Good book, though odd. These NY pranksters have greater plans for the entertainment and bemusement of Big Apple natives and tourists for years to come - It is New York! A crazy country all to itself. From "McDonald's Bathroom Attendant" handing out mints and cologne to cheap eatery visitors to "Dead Author Meet and Greet" with a fake Anton Chekhov at Barnes & Noble.