Why I Became an Atheist by John Loftus
Jenners, it’s all your fault I read this book. Actually, I think it’s your husband’s fault as I believe you once told me that he came up with the “phone an author” part of the Take a Chance Challenge (in which one randomly opens the phone book, points to a name, and must read a book by an author with the same last name).
Non-Fiction Challenge, Or, OMG, when will I stop?
Seriously? More Challenges? I can’t stop. Can’t can’t can’t. I’d just been thinking that I need more nonfiction with all of these challenges I’m doing, plus signing up for reviews of books from publishers/authors, when I stumbled across the Nonfiction Reading Challenge hosted by Trish at Trish’s Books. It’s already a month underway, but I can use a couple of cross-overs, plus some books that I really need to read because I’ve just–drumroll please!–started writing a novel. Perhaps I’ll blog on that stuff, but maybe not. We’ll see.
Dead Men Do Tell Tales by William R. Maples, Ph.D. and Michael Browning
Admit it: Not only do you like watching Law & Order/CSI/NCIS/Cold Case/Bones, but you also watch the the “real” shows like Forensic Files. You’re a little bit morbid, aren’t you?
The Seal Intestine Raincoat in the book’s title turns out to be exactly that: a raincoat made from seal intestines. It was made a long time ago by a now homeless old Inuit man in the Northern reaches of Canada.
It’s tough to say who is more famous–
I’m sure that a lot of people out there in the blogosphere will review this book with an eye towards the story” the relationship between Alex the grey parrot and Dr. Irene Pepperberg; Pepperberg’s struggle for funding and acceptance in the scientific community; the tragic untimely death of Alex. But I’m going to focus on the linguistic implications of the duo’s work, because that’s why I wanted to read this book in the first place.
I just finished this book, like, half an hour ago. It’s short, fun read–Magical Realism in 246 pages, though it reads faster than that.
Whenever I hear about lichen or facial sandblasting, which, admittedly, is not often, I think of this book. It’s kind of a nice way to introduce this book though: science and beauty. Or, perhaps, the science of beauty.
It’s hard enough to condense 30,000 years of human culture, movement, and industry into one book, let alone one review of said book, but I’ll give it my best shot.
