AW, MAN! I finished reading Death Note on Sunday. I was left feeling…

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Which means that I was pretty damn satisfied because…ok…how do I say this without ruining the storyline…OH MY, GEEZ, SERIOUSLY! THAT’S HOW IT ENDED??? I knew that was one of the options, but it still hit me hard when it happened. *It* being the final eye-widener.

If you want an excellent, serial killer series where the murderer has Dexter-ish, justice-minded motives, try Death Note. It’s heavy on (internal) dialogue and good for folks who like mysteries.

(Warning: one of the main characters is named Misa Misa. She has no actions or thoughts outside of pleasing-her-man. Which, feasibly, there are women that exist like this…but I wanted to shake the character. No, I wanted to shake the writer.)

By the way, this is Ryuk. He is a shinigami…and my favorite.

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Ryuk from Death Note

and YOWZA! I read Oz: The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, adapted by Eric Shanower and illustrated by Skottie Young.

::sops drool off keyboard with fashionable, purple zebra print scarf::

Skottie Young…oh, my. I love, love, LOVE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM.

Lastly, my marvelously chic and kind friend Cathleen handed a book my way…Please Stop Being Sad, Volume 1 by Emm Roy. It is a collection of illustrations by Roy. (She has a tumblr that never fails to make me smile). It was full of this:

Emm Roy Please Stop Being SadIt made me Very Very Glowy.

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I saw Pacific Rim. It was big fun. It reminded me how much I enjoyed the movie Robot Jox as a kid. Speaking of Robot Jox —> —>  —> Wow.

But MORE IMPORTANTLY! I saw Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay which was SO GOOD.

Ricky Jay is a magician. He has been a magician since he was 4. Dude made a name for himself piercing watermelons with thrown playing cards on talk shows in the ’70s. He’s one of the best sleight of hand performers in the world. His magic isn’t limited to the stage…

Well past midnight, everyone gathered around a coffee table as Jay, at Baron’s request, did closeup card magic. When he had performed several dazzling illusions and seemed ready to retire, a guest named Mort said, “Come on, Ricky. Why don’t you do something truly amazing?”

Baron recalls that at that moment “the look in Ricky’s eyes was, like, ‘Mort—you have just fucked with the wrong person.’ ”

Jay told Mort to name a card, any card. Mort said, “The three of hearts.” After shuffling, Jay gripped the deck in the palm of his right hand and sprung it, cascading all fifty-two cards so that they travelled the length of the table and pelted an open wine bottle.

“O.K., Mort, what was your card again?”

“The three of hearts.”

“Look inside the bottle.”

Mort discovered, curled inside the neck, the three of hearts. The party broke up immediately.

I LOVED THIS DOCUMENTARY. Ricky Jay didn’t want to divulge details of his own upbringing – aside from the fact that his grandfather introduced him to magic –  so there was a lot of…room. It was filled with mini-biographies of the contemporary and long-dead magicians that influenced him. Ricky Jay is not only an extraordinary illusionist, he is an esoteric historian. He has thousands of books on magic and OH MY GAWD do I want to live wherever he keeps them all.


Been listening to a hellton of Rachel Kate. She’s got a power-folk vibe. Her voice ranges from gutteral blues wallow to sweet and straightforward. With Love and Hate is a helluva album, but see her live. Woman will make your heart fall out of yer chest. Then she’ll put some dancing shoes on it and waltz that sacred organ around the room.

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Rachel Kate dancing with my heart. Don’t be jealous. She’ll dance with yours, too.