Time Passes, Books Need Reading I've moved from the Unread to the Read side of my bookshelves two Tom Robbins books, Still Life With Woodpecker and Jitterbug Perfume, one grit-fluff fantasy epic Perdido Street Station, the thoroughly enjoyable Matt Ruff romp Fool On The Hill (much more enjoyable than Sewer, Gas, & Electric), and a couple other unmemorable tomes, over the last month or so.
I picked up Stephen Wolfram's A New Kind of Science then put it back down when the first few dozen pages made it abundantly clear that he's a stark raving loon, in that salient, insightful, yet utterly, hopelessly, fixatedly obsessed sort of way. I'll slog through the remaining eleven-hundred-fifty pages of cellular-autonoma ravings someday.
My bedstand's bookspot is currently alternating between Christopher Alexander's lyrical, if repetative, Timeless Way of Building, and the engrossing hard sci-fi realm of Alastair Reynolds's Revelation Space, though I think I'll feel I'll have wasted the time invested in its words when I'm through. Alas.
Trying to ween myself from such boring non-interactive activities, I picked up the game Neverwinter Nights. I found that I can blow hours on that, but it's just not rewarding when I stop. I'll just go back to EverQuest on that front, I think. I should really just write my own, someday.