My brain has a hard time retaining certain things. I have decent long term memory, shitty short term, and then shit gets all jumbly. It makes reading and writing harder (and it’s something I was always good at, so it bothers me, but I still fucking do madly awesome on the verbal parts of the neuropsych tests. Just… don’t ask me to subtract backwards from 100 by two. It’s embarrassing for everyone involved).
But I love to read. I particularly love China Mieville. He’s not always known for his wondrous readability, but the guy can build some interesting worlds and he is poetic if not always… coherent.
Several years ago I read This Census Taker. And.. I still think about it. I think about it like this:
I read This Census Taker. What the fuck was that about? Like, no, what the fuck was that about? I guess there was this census taker. And, you know. A mountain. Goats. His dad. And probably shoes, or a lack thereof, and doors and taxes and shit.
And then sometimes I go to Amazon and read the reviews, and there’s a lot of people who are in my same boat. Love Mieville, and slogged through because the words were most definitely beautiful even if no one knows what the fuck the book was about.
I don’t know if it was a local news story or not, but recently there were a couple of census takers that were directed by a supervisor to make up information about some people. I don’t know if it was to change information, or supply additional information, or if they just fucking created new identities for some motherfuckers, because I truly did not bother to read the actual news article.
And now I’m thinking, “Shit. What if that’s what This Census Taker was about?”
Anyway, I was cleaning dog food off the glass slider because someone is really overenthusiastic when he eats and flings it everywhere, and that’s what I was thinking. Hope your life is enriched as fuck for knowing.