Books: Funny quotes

Hitchhiker's guide to the Galaxy

This is going to be my fun post. It really intrigues me on the subject of humor--what makes people laugh?

On Sarcasm
"Ford! Hello, how are you?"
"Fine," said Ford,
"look, are you busy?"
"Am I busy?" exclaimed Arthur.
"Well, I've just got all these bulldozers and things to lie in front of because they'll knock my house down if I don't, but other than that ... well, no not especially, why?"
They don't have sarcasm on Betelgeuse, and Ford Prefect often failed to notice it unless he was concentrating. He said, "Good, is there anywhere we can talk?"

On encountering Vogon Construction Fleet
The ships hung in the sky in much the same way that bricks don't.

On listening to mother
Arthur: "You know, it's at times like this, when I'm trapped in a Vogon airlock with a man from Betelgeuse, and about to die of asphyxiation in deep space that I really wish I'd listened to what my mother told me when I was young."
Ford: "Why, what did she tell you?"
Arthur: "I don't know, I didn't listen."

On usage of the word 'safe'
Ah. This is probably some strange usage of the word 'safe' that I'm not aware of.

On the subject of a towel
A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value - you can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapours; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a mini raft down the slow heavy river Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or to avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (a mindboggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you - daft as a bush, but very ravenous); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitchhiker) discovers that a hitchhiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitchhiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitchhiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

Hey, you sass that hoopy Ford Prefect? There's a frood who really knows where his towel is.
(Sass: know, be aware of, meet, have sex with; hoopy: really together guy; frood: really amazingly together guy.)

On Zaphod Beeblebrox
An expression of deep worry and concern failed to cross either of Zaphod's faces.

"Listen, three eyes, don't you try to outweird me, I get stranger things than you free with my breakfast cereal."

"What do you think I am, completely without any moral whatsits, what are they called, those moral things?"

TV: "Something to Talk About"

Nicole was super cute, especially when she smiled and bantered with Alex. When she turned around, ha, there is a big pink flower sticker on the back of her wheel chair. A well protected kid still... There was a strange chemistry between them, but let's not pursue that, because soon it was apparent the chemistry between Izzie and Alex was literally sparkling. No, I am not talking about the final scenes when Alex gave Izzie the long overdue "good night" (go figure) kiss, but the lunch hour encounter where Izzie chimed in with George "It's not like we can read your mind. It's not like we have any idea what's going on in your tiny tiny tiny little brain!" She delivered it with such a deadpan face, and Alex was pretty man about it for not saying anything. Man... I think Alex is starting to be my favorite character in this show!






The last glance Derrick cast to Meredith took my breath away. Somehow I had never expect an emotion this deep and laced with longing and self-administered detachment portraited in a TV drama, and I was glad that I was proved wrong.

Books: Books I wish I had time to read [again]

This post shall serve as a reminder for all the books I wish I had time to read. In some cases, I hastily finished a book but wished I had time to read it again.

[again]
Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond
So far the only book I secretly wish I was forced to spend a semeter reading and write a 20-page paper with at least 10 references. Fascinating book about human evolution and how material wealth got distributed and re-distriubted in the world.

The Broker by John Grisham
What a major step-up from the Brethren and King of Torts! Several times I couldn't help but laugh out loud. The part about Joel Backman learning Italian and trying to blend in the local scene was so funny and dead-on accurate for anyone who was forced to submerge into a foregn culture without too much cushioning. The culinary adventures and various cultural shock experienced by Backman were also captured vividly. I plan on re-reading this prior to my next trip to Italy, along with Angels and Demons.

京华烟云 -- 林语堂
十年前读的书，今天在书店里站着看了一小段还是久别重逢得喜欢。可惜三联只有上册没有下册，继续找，这本书一定要捧在手里看。小的时候喜欢到什么程度呢？那时候迷上了写硬笔，一页一页看来，按衣食住行景，每一段都工工整整得抄下来分类，不知道是羡慕书里的生活还是自恋自己的字。书里的木兰更贴近一个有血有肉的真人，小时候也是真淘气，但是姚老爷教的大方。赵雅芝版的木兰简直就是一个神仙，十全十美。当然看电视就是要看养眼，至今觉得只有她适合这个角色。

Rants and raves: Play with a pro

People say practice makes perfect. In most cases that is true. For instance, backing out of a seemingly impossible corner in my parking lot that I was so lucky to be assigned to. Now I can do it without adding more scratches on the sides. But tennis, tennis is a whole new different ball game (no pun intended).

For months I have been practicing against the only wall I can found in town, day after day, fighting with kids who bounce big red balls and simply won't leave. From day one, I had known my forehand is stronger than my backhand because, well, I do everything better with my right hand. In all honesty, I probably only spend 20% of time working on my backhand, and even then it is total hit and miss, literally. I could get a couple of good ones, but I wouldn't know what I did that was right. Most of the time, my backhand failed parlously, hopelessly. Judging by my backhand, people would not believe I have played tennis for as long as I told them I have. What we try to avoid eventually comes around and bites us in the ass. On the court, I would unconsciously change my stance last minute in the face of a fastball intended for a backhand. I got yelled all the time for going out of my way, awkwardly, to avoid backhand. Needless to say, I didn't last very long on the court.

Today, none of my classmates showed up for our weekly tennis class, and I found myself unexpectedly practicing one-on-one with Raul, our instructor with seemingly infinite patience. Still, I nearly drove Raul up the walls with my consistent failing backhand. I made every mistake in the book. My grib was wrong. My racket was not ready. I tended to forget to swing my racket from low to high. I did not turn my shoulders enough. I turned my shoulders too much that I completely spun around. I did not follow through with my arm. My eyes were not on the ball. My step was too big and I got cornered by the racket and ball... the list goes on. But all was about to change! Having a pro feed balls was fantastic!! Every ball was thrown at just the right height. The undivided attention of Raul and everything done 50 times in a row worked like a miracle, or more like a magnifying glass exposing all my faulty moves. At the end of the practice, Raul didn't have to tell me what caused a bad backhand--I knew it myself.

Doing four people's work by myself was exhausting, and I will from now on call "tennis practice with a pro" an aerobic exercise that resulted in my racing heart beat and pouring sweat. Fourty-five mintues later, my clothes were soaked in sweat, and more dripping from my forehead. It feels wonderful being exhausted but knowing that I was doing the right thing... finally.