Mockers and Acquisitions

I have, it seems, acquired a nickname--get ready for this. It's a doozy. (I thought I'd eliminated the possibility of a nickname of this sort springing up, when I shortened my name to Socar. There's not much you can do with Socar, I thought, aside from pronouncing it "Soccer". But there's one very obvious thing you can do with "Socrates", and it's been done...by my SISTER, of all people! Traitorous sibling! The cheek of her!)

My new nickname is--

(--and, by a show of hands, how many of you own, or have owned in the past, a cat by this name? It'd probably be one of those black cats you get. You know, the ones with the little white--)

--Socks.

That's right. My new nickname is "Socks." Unbelievable! To make matters even worse, my sister's got one of those names that's as short as it'll get already, and doesn't even rhyme with anything particularly embarrassing. Her surname, which is different from mine, doesn't lend itself easily to mockery, either. I am denied my rightful vengeance.

(Apparently, however, I did once draw a rather mean-spirited picture on the basement wall at our family home. It had a donkey on it, and my sister's name underneath. I don't remember drawing such a thing, but who else could've done it? It does sound rather like something I'd do, sadly enough. Maybe this is my roundly-deserved comeuppance, right here.)

Speaking of acquisitions, and because I'm in one of those list-making moods, here is a list of things which are on my Amazon wishlist*, but which I'm not quite convinced I really want:

1. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and How We Are Hungry by Dave Eggers

At first, I was positive I wanted these. I'd picked up, on impulse, a copy of Speaking with the Angel (ed. Nick Hornby), and I thought Mr. Eggers' contribution, After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned, was the best of the lot. Then, this conversation happened:

"Yeh, I'm going to buy everything he's ever written now, I think. Him and Ian McEwan."

"No! Stop! Don't eat that!" (accompanied by various exaggerated warding-off gestures).

"What? Really? Why not?"

"Oh, man, Eggers is the pits! Self-indulgence personified! Horrible! Awful! He does some okay short stories, sometimes, but whenever he tries to do anything longer, or anything remotely serious, he gets all Helen Fielding-y."

"Ew. I don't like Helen Fielding at all."

"Then especially don't buy A Heartbreaking Collection of Staggering Nonsense. You'll hate it."

I don't know, though. Dave Eggers might be a bit like those Final Fantasy games I love so much, or like sex: even when he's bad, he may still be kind of good. I mean, After I Was Thrown in the River... was one of the best stories I read all year, last year (and I read lots). It was even better than the Irvine Welsh story that was the reason I got Speaking with the Angel in the first place. I can't imagine the fellow who wrote that story doing anything too atrocious.

So, do I buy the books and risk bursting my After I Was Thrown in the River... bubble, or do I put it off a while longer? Perhaps I ought to wait and see if they turn up in a bargain bin somewhere. Then, even if they do rot completely, I'll only be out a few bucks.

2. You'll Have Had Your Hole by Irvine Welsh

I am, in fact, positive I want this. (How could I not, with a title like that?) However, it's very short, even as plays go, and I'll scoff it down in an evening, knowing my (gluttonous) reading habits. With a list price of CDN $18.28, that doesn't seem like an awful lot of bang for my buck. I like a book I can savour, one that isn't, you know, goodgoodgone.

3. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon

This looks brilliant on paper, but so did Powder (by Kevin Sampson), which was one of my most unsatisfying reads of 2002. I don't know a single soul who's read The Curious Incident..., and I don't trust those amazon.ca reviewers as far as I can throw 'em. (Hey, I know several folks who've got books up for sale on Amazon, and they've all tried to press me into service writing good reviews. I didn't bite, but I bet lots of their friends and family members did. You just never know with these Internet reviews.)

4. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke

The main reason I haven't bought this is that I heard it's got microscopically tiny print, and books like that make my head hurt. Would it really increase the printing costs that much to use a decent-sized font?

I'll probably cave in and buy it eventually, however, if a large-print edition doesn't come out in the meantime.

5. Sandakan Brothel No. 8 - An Episode in the History of Lower-Class Japanese Women by Tomoko Yamazaki

It costs $95.31. I could buy five hardbacks/glossy trade-paperbacks for that price, or three Playstation games, or two computer games, or ten mass-market paperbacks. On the other hand, I love cultural history, and I can't help but be fascinated by stories such as this. What to do? What to do? Augh. This book has been on my wishlist for ages, but whenever I get a gift-certificate or a large paycheque, I go for the five hardbacks or the three games or the ten paperbacks. A hundred dollars for just one book is too much for my limited budget.

I could probably get it in Japanese for much less, but I wouldn't enjoy it. Looking up every second word in the dictionary is not my idea of a good time. Also, kanji and kana fall in the same category as small fonts: they make my head spin. Maybe I need reading glasses. Man, if I had reading glasses, I'd have glasses on my face all the time.

6. Keeping Up Appearances: Hyacinth Bucket's Book of Etiquette for the Socially Less Fortunate by Roy Clarke and Jonathan Rice

This is just silly! I only want it for the memories (Saturday nights with my parents, watching the old, familiar lineup--Are You Being Served?, Keeping Up Appearances, Yes, Minister!, One Foot in the Grave, and so forth).

The question is this: how much do I treasure those memories? Do I, for instance, treasure them to the tune of thirty-five dollars? Maybe not.

7. A Playstation 2!

I want it because I am a complete and utter video-game addict. Console games are like manna from heaven to me. Name any NES, SNES, or Playstation RPG, English or Japanese--I've probably played it, and if I haven't, I've at least tried the demo. (I would play all the action games, as well, and all the shooting games, and all the racing games, but I'm too bloody butterfingered.)

On the other hand, I don't want it, because I am a complete and utter video-game addict, and if I buy it, I'll be on it like white on rice every night after work. I won't socialize; I won't eat dinner--I'll just play video games till it's time for bed. WHAT A NERD!

I furthermore don't want it because it costs two hundred dollars, plus extra for the memory cards, the controllers, and the games. I don't even have two hundred dollars. I'd have to buy it on credit, and everyone knows what my credit's like. I'd end up paying for it five times over, after counting in the interest.

No--it's no good. This, I definitely want, in spite of all the downsides. With any luck, I'll manage to raise the cash for it in time for Final Fantasy XII**.

Everything else on my wishlist falls into one of two categories:

1) Outdated: I've already bought it, or someone has managed to convince me it's too pants for words;

2) Going on the next order: I'm positive I want it, but won't be able to get it till I've made some room on my credit card.

* Which I'm not linking to, because I loathe cyberbegging with the fire of a thousand hells.

** Augh! I ordinarily try and avoid letting my essential dorkiness show (by avoiding the mention of video games entirely). I think I've just done myself in, though. Socks the dork; that's me.