Although I had always thought of myself as a bit of a book purist, I woke up one morning last December quite positive that I wanted an e-reader.  My husband, thrilled at the prospect of not having to think up a birthday present for me on his own, obliged, and a few weeks later I unwrapped my shiny new gadget.

And I love it as much as I knew I would, but not for the obvious reasons. Most people say they love their e-readers because they are lighter than hardcovers, or because acquiring their desired reading material becomes almost instantaneous. I will agree with all of these things, but there are so many other reasons to love an e-reader:

1) You can look smart while you read smut.

No cover = no title page = ability to read Breaking Dawn without anybody knowing. For all that the people next to you on the subway know, you could be reading A Tale of Two Cities, which, thanks to an alphabetical filing system, is what pops up to the top when you first turn on your machine.  Heh heh.

2) You can indulge your online shopping needs without cluttering up your house.

I do just sometimes get the urge to click, ‘Buy Now,’ and it’s much, much easier to rationalize the purchase of a $7.99 ebook than yet another (really cute) necklace from Etsy. Bonus – instant gratification! No need to wait for Mr. Postman to arrive. (Except with your credit card bill. Try not to forget that part.)

3) There is always room on my virtual bookshelf.

In contrast to my physical bookshelf, which is 8 ft tall, 5 feet wide and threatens to collapse under the weight of the books, stuffed 3 deep on every shelf. And no, there is no thinning it out. Are you suggesting I get rid of my grandfather’s 1930s printings of all the best childhood classics? Or my first edition hardcover copies of everything Michael Ondaatje has written in the last 20 years? No, I didn’t think you were.

4) Built-in dictionary.

I have a pretty decent vocabulary, but even I get stumped once in a while. Luckily, I can simply highlight the word I’m not familiar with, instantly find out its definition, and then spend the rest of the day using the word, sounding all thinky like.

5) If the book I’m reading sucks, I can scroll to another one.

Listen, sometimes books suck. They can’t all be Breaking Dawn you know. But at least if the book I’m reading sucks on my e-reader, chances are, there is something else available for me to read that might not suck as bad. At the very least, one of my e-readers (Yes, I now have two. Yes, I have a problem.) came pre-loaded with 100 classics, so it’s a good excuse to catch up on all the books I  never bothered to read in high school.

Do you have an e-reader? Want one? Love the idea? Loathe the idea? Let me know!

Photo: Kobo (jivedanson/Flickr)

I LOVE a good children’s book. Years before I ever had kids, or a husband, I would buy my favorites knowing that one day, my little people would need some good bedtime stories. Luckily, my children share my love of books and reading. We read together all the time, share stories every night and it’s not uncommon to find them huddled somewhere together, reading. It is all kinds of cute.

Besides the classics like Dr. Seuss and Robert Munsch and Shel Shilverstein, whom I think kill it in every book, we have some favorites we think are great books.

GREAT BOOKS:

Scaredy Squirrel  by Melanie Watt: This book series (four in all right now) is all about a squirrel who suffers from anxiety, and is totally afraid of everything. They are hilarious and really creative. (We also enjoy her Chester series about a cat that tries to change the story, being told by a mouse, to suit him. (I promise that will actually make sense, if you read it).

365 Penguins by Jean-Luc Fromental:  This is an oversized book about a family who begin to receive these deliveries to their home, all of which are penguins. It promotes numbers and math and is really fun and just a gorgeous book to look at. Love it and wish I had thought of it.

The Incredible Book Eating Boy by Oliver Jeffers:  I adore this author. These books are beautifully illustrated, and so different from any other children’s books that I’ve read – they are that inventive. This book in particular is my son’s absolute favorite, and he giggles right through to the end.

Llama Llama, Red Pajama by Anna Dewdney: Who loves a book that rhymes? A kid in footy pajamas, that’s who! My three year old is all over this one, and I think it is full-on adorable. Never get tired of reading it.

WORST BOOK:

GWOT! Horribly funny hairticklers by George Mendoza:

When I was in public school,this book appeared in my house one day, and I still have no idea where it came from. It was the creepiest damn book, and after reading it, I remember being too scared to sleep, and even kept seeing some of the characters after I would wake up. Seriously, this book is whack.

The weirdest of the three stories in the book is called THE HAIRY TOE. It’s about this old woman who finds a hairy toe, uses it to make a hairy toe stew, eats the hairy toe, and then gets haunted by the hairy toe’s owner – seriously. And the illustrations in this book are beyond creepy.

What are some of your favorite great books? How about the absolute worst?

My six year old goes back to school in exactly two weeks. I’m not exactly thrilled. I’m actually kind of wishing I could go back to when the babe was too young for school.  Sadly, my time traveling skills are a little rusty at the moment. Instead, I choose to give the whole thing the nasty stink eye. I promise you, I have my reasons.

To me, back to school sucks the almighty lemon because it means I need to:

1. Brush my hair
2. Put on something other than pajama bottoms and a three day old tank top
3. Shave things

Doing all that before I even leave the house? That is just so wrong. Add to that, once I get to this particular school and see all the other mothers, most of whom have their very own entries in the snooty, boring or mute section of the dictionary, the real fun begins.

So now, I have to:

• Smile my best fake smile (which means that I should probably add – 4. Brush my teeth – to the above list).

• Stand up straight (Crap – now I need to add – 5. Wear my best brassiere – to that list too).

• Make safe small talk (Safe statements such as “How was your summer?” or “Did you have a good summer?” or “Wow, can you believe that summer?” are always safe bets and sure to be a joy to repeat over and over again.)

• Mention camping at some point, because evidently 99% of the population camp, and don’t actually realize how much camping sucks. (Let me let you in on a little secret – camping sucks).

Normally at this point, if the praying to the time dogs has worked, the bell has rung and the boy is safely in his classroom – Success.

Thankfully, this means I get to finally:

• Hit Starbucks – because, yes, all this misery has occurred before my first sip of latte.

• Worry about things like germs, lice, bullies, and other mothers while I drink said latte.

• Rejuvenate my stink eye by closing my eyes and meditating about kittens and pink things.

Back to school – it explains the grey hair.

You want to know how to know if you’re really a bad mom, in the best possible sense? You think that messing with Little Golden Books – they of such classics as The Poky Little Puppy – by giving them, say, a Big Lebowski/Terminator/Godfather work-over is hysterical. Like, really, really, bust-a-gut freaking funny.

You wouldn’t show them to your kids, though. At least, you probably wouldn’t. Maybe. You might have to think about it.

The artist who does these? Is a story artist at Pixar. I KNOW, RIGHT?

I want to see him give the Tarantino treatment to Toy Story.

(See more corrupted Little Golden Book artistry here.)

Sometimes I read an article and think that it cannot be possibly true. Someone, I tell myself, must be pulling the Internet’s leg because something this ridiculous cannot exist. Take, for instance, this post on creepy children’s books. I had to verify that some of these texts are actual published works,  and much to my horror, they are. Now I’m officially terrified of children’s book authors along with clowns, and Ann Coulter.

Like this book on conjoined twins. Granted tackling sensitive topics — like race and disabilities — is awesome and totally necessary but are conjoined twins such a regular occurrence that we need a juvenile-oriented resource to aid in our children understanding that what counts is inside the person, I mean persons?

(For the record, when I checked Amazon for this title, the section called ‘Customers Who Bought This Item Also Bought’ included the vampire horror movie ‘Let The Right One In’. Just sayin’.)

And who thought a coloring book of terrifying, life-scarring events is a really good idea? Maybe for counselors working with actual victims of trauma, but for the general public? Remember to stay in the lines when tackling the Twin Towers, kids, and don’t skimp on the Burnt Sienna.

Hmm… why does little Billy keep having nightmares about the planes coming to get him?

But it’s Senor Caca that really frightens me. Yes, yes, we do need to talk about bodily functions and reassure our children that laying pipe is something we all do BUT do we really need to animate poo? Isn’t that South Park’s job? Plus, why does Mister Poop (Senor Caca) wear a beret with plaid pants on his long journey in what I assume is your bowel? Wouldn’t a wet suit be more appropriate? And why is the word ‘yum’ on the cover?

This Bad Mom’s mind is officially boggled.

source

LeVar Burton wouldn’t lead us astray via Twitter would he? Because a few days ago he announced that Reading Rainbow 2.0 is in the works. Which is cool. I guess.

To give you an idea of my age, the kids that I babysat watched that show (oh, dear god, I’m old) and they ate the book-centric program up with a spoon. Which is pretty darn cool for a children’s show. Recommending books to kids? ALWAYS GOOD. Of course, I was just a lazy teenager whose purpose was to stop the kids from licking Drano while the parents were gone, which I accomplished by keeping them seated in front of the television, so what do I know? Was Reading Rainbow any good?

(Ed. note: of COURSE it was good. In an ‘any show that encourages kids to read and involves rainbows that may or may not have contained hidden unicorns’ kind of way.)

I figure as long as LeVar isn’t announcing a return of Star Trek: The Next Generation, I’m cool with that.

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What do you get when you ask a bunch of kids to tell you what the world is going to be like in ten years? A lot of freaky but realistic stuff and a huge dose of creepiness, that's what.

A group of children, ages 13 and under, were asked to predict the not-so distant future of 2020 and of course one of the seven year olds predictably said "Everybody will have a jet pack." Always with the jet packs! What is it with the jet packs? Think about it: We'd be crashing into each other more than ever and airplanes would be shredding crowds of jet packers like bloody confetti. Forget about the freakin' jet packs, kids, m'kay?

Then there was Annie, age 11, who is destined to be either goth or emo (hard to tell, I'd really need to read her poetry) and creeped me out with "There may not be any blue sky." Somebody is wearing black nail polish.

And there was this ray of sunshine from 8-year old Lexi: "I think all of the animals will be dead in 10 years because America is polluting too much. People who aren't married won't have dogs, cats, fish, or any other type of house animal." Well Lexi, if all the animals are dead, one won't need to be married to own that pet now will they? So stop with the double negatives and judging the single people. It's not easy to find a suitable partner these days, yanno, and I'm sure it will be the same in 2020. Maybe worse. I wonder what 'No More Blue Sky' Annie thinks of the future of love?

Of course, future CEOs like Jordan Beck, 11, think that "restaurants will have mini-computers instead of menus, and you can just type in what you want, and it will go directly to the kitchen." Where, presumably, robots will cook your vegan (see above re: no more animals) casserole. Exactly what we need, Jordan: to eliminate more jobs and further empower the robots who (check out Jason's predictions below) really need to be kept in their place.

Thankfully, a lot of those kids also predicted female presidents, reversing global warming, and lots of lasers. Lots and lots of laser. And we all know that lasers are awesome. Except there is the total downer kid, nine-year old Jacob who insists that "robots will take over the world. They will have lasers." Those lasers are not awesome.

Honestly, it is both amusing and refreshing to read the predictions of the innocent. They have so many positive and incredible ideas (except Jason, who probably hangs out with Lexi and Annie and wants us all to go down in a flaming swan song provided by Fall Out Boy).

And because the sky is the limit when it comes to predictions, there also was this completely off-the-chart vision:

"We will live in a world of pure luxury with computers that are programmed by a human's thoughts. We will have no racism, no crime, no need for anyone to take people to court, no need for divorce. There would be no end to happiness. The poor would be welcomed into newly built houses without hesitation. Rich people would donate to every charity known. We would find a cure for every disease."

Apparently Summer, age 11, dreams that in one mere decade a Socialist slash Big Brother Utopia will be ours. I think it may include putting Ecstasy or LSD in the water system but only time will tell.

Ah, kids. They scare me.

source via geekologie

Sure, it took until after I had read Goodnight Keith Moon in its entirety twice to figure out this was a parody and not a cautionary tale for potential groupies (every girl has to dream) but I sure as all hell will never read the original Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown the same way again.

The original version was already creepy enough; at least in Goodnight Keith Moon I’m not questioning why the ghost of Cass Elliot is whispering hush to Keith and his pile of sick. I mean, that makes more sense then a couple of rabbits living in a nicer house than me, right? Seriously. Anthropomorphic rabbits have always creeped me out (Donnie Darko anyone?)

I’m just glad I tripped across this one while my daughter was out of the room because trying explain why Keith Moon is dead in the first verse is a rabbit hole conversation I’d like to avoid until at least junior high thankyouverymuch.

via Neatorama via Popped Culture