R. L. Stine Ventures into Adult Fiction, Just in Time for Halloween

All this Hurricane Sandy business reminded me I owed a book review.

Everyone’s favorite Goosebumps author, R. L. Stine, has ventured into adult* fiction. His first book, Red Rain, tells the tale of Lea and Mark Sutter that begins in, you guessed it, a hurricane. Lea survives a deadly storm and returns home with with mysterious twins she “rescued” in the aftermath. Stine deftly weaves between witty and downright grossness as the previously near perfect life of the Sutters descends into fear and horror. It ends with a twist that keep you up at night!

*This is NOT a book suitable for the Goosebumps age group due to mature content and language!

Planned Bullyhood Releases Next Week

What’s that you say? It’s by Karen Handel and covers the Susan G. Komen/Planned Parenthood fiasco.

You can pre-order your copy here.

This Makes Me Sad

Maurice Sendak died last month. While one of my favorite children’s authors, I didn’t post on it because just face it, I was so sad about so many things, I just couldn’t work up the energy.

Now Mr. Sendak makes me sad again, but for a completely different reason. Seems one of his fondest fantasties in later life was to blow up Bush and Cheney, along with their wives, as a suicide bomber.

Sad, sad, sad.

Is That an Ulcer in Your Stomach or Are You Just Worried About the Election?

Fifteen days to go…

Our church has started a two-week prayer vigil.

Fausta wonders why Obama doesn’t just duct-tape Biden’s mouth shut. My favorite Okie notes Smirky Joe quipped that Obama will be “tested” in his first days in office and we won’t like it. How’s that – he hops on Air Force One and hits under the seat while America’s Heartland is incinerated? Or is he spouting stuff he heard at the White House briefing on National Security in the coming months? Funny, isn’t it, how Obama says the White House briefed HIS TEAM, but if you look down the article, say seven paragraphs down, you’ll see …

On Wednesday the current White House chief of staff, Josh Bolten, chaired a meeting of senior White House staff and representatives of both Mr Obama and his Republican rival John McCain.

I believe the operative word in that paragraph is BOTH.

Obama’s transition team is sewing the world’s biggest white flag to be unfurled on inauguration day, when he pulls all the troops out of Iraq.

It is so sad that because of the corrupt state of the media today that most Americans still do not understand that we are winning in Iraq and that there have been significant improvements in all areas of Iraqi society since the 2007 Bush surge.

Joe the Plumber gets the media a’googling…but why can’t they google A-C-O-R-N? Or Ayers? Or Khalidi? Or Odinga? Are they so rapt in their adoration of The One that in order to mimic him completely, they are happy just being “present” on all his issues?

Speaking of Bill Ayers, unrepentant terrorist, Obama and his team continue to lie to cover up more lies.

On a more serious note, this wouldn’t be an issue if the Obama campaign would stop lying about the nature of his relationship with Ayers. They’ve continually fibbed about it when the public record is pretty clear that they formed a political alliance meant to boost Obama’s electoral career. Their inability to be honest about this relationship is what makes these lesser revelations more significant than they should be. A modest blurb on an obscure book would have no meaning at all absent the fact that Team Obama lied about it on two separate occasions.

Obama has promised that Ayers would have no role in his Administration. (Aside: Obama and promise. A true oxymoron.) But back to Ayers – why would he even need an “official capacity” in Obama’s Reign when he’ll have the key to back door of the White House?

CREDIBILITY? Who needs it? Evidently Colin Powell doesn’t need his anymore either.

Maybe the reason Obama seems so unconcerned about everything but his victory party is this – he is simply a tool, and he knows it. A means to an end. The destruction of America, by her own hand.

Over the pond, Melanie Phillips gets it.

You have to pinch yourself – a Marxisant radical who all his life has been mentored by, sat at the feet of, worshipped with, befriended, endorsed the philosophy of, funded and been in turn funded, politically promoted and supported by a nexus comprising black power anti-white racists, Jew-haters, revolutionary Marxists, unrepentant former terrorists and Chicago mobsters, is on the verge of becoming President of the United States. And apparently it’s considered impolite to say so.

Oh, and now, even McCain’s buses are targets. You won’t see that in the ObaMedia. But you knew that, didn’t you?

Reflective on Reflections

The Anchoress is having an on-line retreat. Who else could have thought of this? It started yesterday, and at first in my selfish way, I wasn’t going to share. The first meditation is one of my favorites – Listen – and I knew I couldn’t keep her to myself. Be sure to check her post often – the retreat runs all week – for the updates.

In all the noise of the never-ending campaign and news journalistic opinion cycles, you lose your grip on reflection. Inner reflection gets pushed out the yammering external. Home, which used to be a family’s oasis from the outer world, is anything but restful now. Work sucks up more bandwidth than ever. School is grating in its inability to function as an educational facility instead of a money pit. Don’t even get me started on soccer or College Girl’s plate of must-attend-events-now-that-she-is-a-senior. Even church is more demanding. Do this – be here by this – wear this – go here – say this – pay this. Do! Do! Do!. What ever happened to the quiet reflection? Quiet prayer? Quiet study? Just a little quiet, period?

There are many blogs for any iteration of anything you want. Humor, geeks, StarWars, strange dark things, tattoos, gardening, history, airplanes, ships, all flavors of religion, antique photographs, science, politics, music, literature, stuff for sale, even a couple of pretty good shrinks – anything and everything you could ever dream of. That’s why every day is a new day with someone new out in the blogosphere blathering on about their favorite things.

But there is only One Anchoress.

Somehow, she is one of the very first blogs I read, when I ventured out with the question, “What are these blog thingys, anyway?” It had to be Divine Providence – God knew exactly what I needed and stuck right in front of my face. I was hooked from the very first post. I don’t remember which one, but I do remember she mentioned “This House of Brede.” In a million years, and out of a billion blogs, how could I have found the one blog that wrote about that book on that day?

I read “This House of Brede” during high school. Before the movie was made in the late ’70’s with Diana Rigg. My mom gave it to me; probably from her friend V, who was a copious reader and obviously to boost my reading skills. Being raised Protestant, I didn’t understand a lot of the ritual stuff, but I adored the book. This fictional abbey grabbed my heart and never let go. In all the years since, I’ve gravitated toward reading about nuns and convents and cloisters. Women of faith and their walk with God. Something about the PEACE they radiate makes you curious. “Silly girl,” I would be told, “you can’t be a nun. You’re Methodist.” I would think, surely there are Methodist nuns somewhere. And don’t forget, Phillipa converted.

Funny, too, how the nuns whispered of the “stone disease.” I had always loved old churches and cathedrals rather than these new-fangled, inpersonal “multi-purpose worship facilities.” I have the “stone-disease,” too, in a big way.

After reading her for a while, I thought I could do this, too. And so this little blog was born. That makes her my Blog-Mother, for without her, I wouldn’t be here.

So I blogged along and one day she had a silly contest. And silly me, I won it – so she sent me a book. “Saints?”, the proper Baptist hubby sniffed. “Yeah, you should read it,” was the reply. Joseph was my favorite. How much do you know about Joseph? Jesus’s earthly dad; that’s pretty much all. But his hidden life is what speaks volumes of his influence. Again, a mere mortal doing God’s work on earth, quietly and without desire for attention.

For years, she was anonymous. Just this year, we learned her name.

I love retreats. I just never get to go. And if I ever do, I usually have to help with the running of the thing, since hubby probably planned it to begin with. She wrote of a retreat a few years ago where she had to share some retreat space with some jangly Baptist women. This post made me laugh so hard, the tears were rolling down my face. I know the type – and I know how she feels.

We are kindred spirits who have never met. Hopefully, one day we will.

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