A Life Spent Reading

It’s been a long time since I just purely enjoyed a book as much as this one.

First, HarperCollins did a great job with the overall look and feel of the book. It’s bound in a sort of black faux-leather, has a bright red bookmark ribbon attached, and the pages are edged in gold. If you hold the book up sideways, you can almost see yourself in the reflection. The overall impression is that of a somewhat sleazy bible; undoubtedly intentional, as I’m sure there are a lot of young men out there who have made this the primary book in their lives (at least for a time). Inside, you’ve got acid-free paper, velour-red end-pages, interesting chapter motifs, illustrations that fit the overall mood of the book perfectly, and flawless editing. I paid the full twenty-four dollars for the book, and it was worth every penny.

Second, Neil Strauss is a very good writer. This is the first time I’ve read his work, but I will definitely pick up more of his books in the future. He works for Rolling Stone as a sort of pop-culture reporter, and has written books on various personalities within it. Strauss seems like a very cool Everyman, which is the perfect place to start from with a book like this.

The Game tells the story of his two-year metamorphosis from Average Frustrated Chump to Master Pick-up Artist. Although you can glean quite a bit in the way of tips from this book, it’s not really an instruction manual. Rather, it tells a sort of allegorical forbidden fruit story, what happens when you actually get the power to accomplish something that most people only dream of, and the fallout. Unlike allegories, though, everything in this book actually occurred. It is an illustrative exercise in the old saying, “Beware what you wish for… because you might actually get it.”

I would recommend this book to anyone, male or female, who is interested in learning how the bar scene really works, or good writing, or a good story, or exploring an interesting sub-culture. Have the scales fall from your eyes at the content or be horrified at how easily you might be manipulated in a social setting, but either way you won’t be bored.

I’ll admit it: I’ve got a soft spot for Rocky. Maybe it’s because I was sitting in the audience with a girl I really wanted to date when the first one came out way back when in 1976; maybe it’s because Sylvester Stallone always seemed like such an unlikely movie star, what with the thick voice and droopy eyes. But I’ve almost always liked Rocky.

Almost. Rockies I-IV were fine, even full as they were of unlikely spectacle, Mohawks, jingoistic Cold War rhetoric and so on. Rocky V was another matter, a movie that was unwatchable on almost every level. It was what killed the series all those years ago.

But now Rocky is back, if only briefly, and I have to say that VI is a return to the Stallone’s very best form, equal to any of the previous movies, even maybe Rocky I.

I won’t ruin the plot, but I will say that Stallone, at 60 or so, is still physically very impressive, and that he seems to have learned a sort of mature restraint in his movie making. It seems odd to say about a movie that revolves around boxing, but this installment was, well, almost understated.

Let’s take a moment to reflect on the achievement here; Stallone has pulled off something almost impossible: a fifth sequel that stands on a level with the original. What other series can you say that about? It’s taken 40 years for the Bond franchise to come up with something as good as the best of the original Connery movies. Godfather II was as good as I, and Terminator 2 was better than the original. But something-or-other six? This has got to be some sort of a record.

Watch this movie. You won’t be disappointed. And finally, there is The Line:

“It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.” – Sylvester Stallone as Rocky Balboa