So you wake up from a dodgy night on the tiles and find your girlfriend’s missing. What happens next?
Enough said, really. (more…)
So I’ve been playing through a couple of games of late, and haven’t written anything about ’em. Time to rectify that. Strap in if you’re delighted by the second-hand thoughts of my gaming exploits. It’s fun, I assure you.
(It probably isn’t, but bear with me.)
Well, here we are. The end of the story. The last sprint to the finish. And as expected, there’s blood and boobs and, well, bullets.
And is it satisfying? How can I put this?
Mind you, that’s not necessarily unexpected, given the genre we’re knee-deep in the guts of. But still. (more…)
I must admit that prior to reading this book, I’d only known Stefan Zweig’s work through its influence on The Grand Budapest Hotel – which is a fairly enormous watering-down of his importance on my part.
Turns out Zweig’s writing is much more than just the inspiration for some lovely cinema. Journeys is a collection of the writer’s work, translated by Will Stone, spanning four decades, all of which specifically relate to travel.
From what I gather of other reviewers’ feelings, the general position on this volume of the 100 Bullets saga – issues 59 through 80 – is confusion. A feeling of confusion over what’s going on, where and – in some cases – when.
I think this is fairly on the money, but I’d add in one important substitution: it’s not confusion.
It’s chaos. (This is, after all, the Land of Lono.) (more…)
When I was a small boy I remember my father having a bookshelf full of hardbacks. And the one I remember most clearly, for some reason, is Shōgun, James Clavell’s 1100-page whopper. I can still recall the smell of it.
I had always been mystified by the book. I remember it being on Dad’s nightstand, with a golf-club bookmark through it. I remember its cover as the first place I ever saw the handle of a Japanese sword. And when I was older, I remember finding endless copies of it at op-shops, usually for somewhere around the two-buck mark. (more…)
You may have noticed that there’s been scant – well, no – posting here in the past couple of weeks.
That’s because I’ve been overseas. On holiday.
See? That’s me in Japan.
While in Japan I read airport novels (hello, James Clavell, after many years of avoidance) and walked a hell of a lot. So there’s not been much in the way of reviewing or writing.
That’ll change soon as I’m home (now) and in need of distraction. Expect more soon.
(Though let me preface any future content with a lamentation that there’s no Family Mart near my house. Because if you know, you know.)
It’s time to descend, once more, into the world of noir. Bullets, broads, and a buttload of blood. But this is 100 Bullets so by this point in the collection, your squeamishness has either seen you tap out, or your enthusiasm has you fired up for what’s coming.