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You will not find many people that program in smalltalk and you will not be able to see a lot of code. This means that your coding style will take longer to develop *naturally*, on your own. This is where Smalltalk With Style comes in: It's a small book and makes simple and easy reading. When you're done with it, you'll put it aside and most likely never refer to it again. But it will change the way you write code in smalltalk, and your code will begin to look the way smalltalk code should. The advantage of this book is that it packs invaluable programming experience in a wonderful, but not-so-popular programming language into a very small book. Get it, read it, get over with it, and go on to write code like a natural smalltalker.
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The book begins when Dr. Coote shows his friends a drum that was given to him by a mysterious young man. As usual, the professor scoffs at it, although Dr. Coote is still worried, because of his extensive knowledge of voudon, an evil voodoo cult on a fictional Caribbean island. Fergie then takes the drum and beats it while screaming "babaloo! babaloo!" which sets a chain of terrifying events into action.
Dr. Coote has a nervous breakdown and a horrible old woman stalks Johnny and his family to find the drum, all while the friends scramble to figure out where the drum is and save their own necks in the process. There are some genuinely scary scenes involving a zombie, and later an exorcism.
Bellairs and Strickland have done an excellent job creating the mythology of Baron Samedi and the Priests of the Midnight Blood, the evil voudon cult on a French Caribbean island. It's a bit formulaic, and not absolutely perfect, but a taut, enjoyable mystery/horror book.
Johnny and Professor Childermass take a detour into the darkest side of voodoo, known as voudon. When, at a get-together with one of the professor's friends, Fergie begins playing and singing ("Babaloo") a tiny leather drum, the lights unexpectedly go out.
Soon the friend is ill, raving and finally falling into a coma. A creepy old woman and a mysterious man are lurking nearby. Some of the most affecting scenes is where the professor finds the hideous creature growing in a pillow, and when he battles the horrifying snakelike demon.
But taking the prize is the zombie mentioned in the title. Holy cow.
This is a genuinely scary book-for heaven's sake, don't read it at night.
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This is good value for money and should be on every credit administrator's bookshelf
The writing is accessible to beginners, and the content is a useful reference for experienced professionals. I also highly recommend Tavakoli's "Credit Derivatives & Synthetic Structures."
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The old iron bridge over Wilder Creek is being torn down by the county, to make way for a newer, more modern structure. Lewis Barnavelt's uncle Jonathan is nervous about this -- not only is the bridge a familiar landmark, but it was constructed by a wizard to keep a long-dead relative from returning. The dead relative was Jedediah Clabbernong, a man obsessed with his own aging, and determined to become one of the immortal alien Great Old Ones.
Now something is creeping from Wilder Creek. Under the sway of the equally determined Mr. and Mrs. Moote, a hideous squidlike humanoid is rising to the surface again -- and it can suck the life from any creature and reduce it to a disintegrating husk. Now as a comet returns -- the comet that claimed Clabbernong a century before -- Lewis, Rose Rita, Jonathan and Mrs. Zimmerman must stop the Mootes before more hideous creatures are unleashed...
Brad Strickland sure knows how to send chills down a spine. In excellent imitation of Bellairs' style, he creates some outstandingly horrifying situations. Jonathan Barnavelt's description of the disintegrating woodchuck he encountered (and pounded to death) is only outdone by the encounter that Lewis and Rose Rita have with an incredibly old, hideous horse. What's wrong? While Bellairs was never the most subtle of writers, the twelve-foot-tall tentacled squid-headed Lovecraftian nightmare seems more than a little excessive. However, his usage of preexisting Bellairs material -- the bridge in "House With a Clock In Its Walls" -- is flawless.
Despite this, Strickland shows excellent skill during the fight scenes and the gradual dramatic buildup. Lewis and Rose Rita are well-characterized and excellent counterparts. Jonathan is the good-natured fretter (portrayed as something of an older version of Lewis) and Mrs. Zimmerman is still the kindly, sharp-witted witch, and even the grandmotherly Mrs. Jaeger makes an appearance. The Mootes are also excellent, reminiscent of the couple in "Killer Robot."
While not outstanding, "Beast" is an excellent continuation of Bellairs' books. Strickland manages the right balance of drama, comedy, and horror.
This book is no exception. I was a very picky fan of John Bellairs, and when Brad Strickland began carrying on his work I was highly skeptical that he would be able to fill the shoes of an incredibly talented author. Not only has he done so with an uncanny ability to emulate Mr. Bellairs' style, he has also gone on to write some pretty memorable adventures involving the Bellairs characters.
I found this book to be one of the more inventive and memorable ones in the entire Bellairs/Strickland history since the Trolley to Yesterday. Strickland was not afraid to go to the same lengths that Bellairs himself did to give the reader a good scare, and I really enjoyed the added sci-fi element in this book.
Well done, Mr. Strickland!
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The reader, of course, knows from the start that Everett Ruess disappears at the age of 21 while on a walkabout somewhere near the Colorado River, in the remote 1930s wilderness of southern Utah. Gifted, bright, and almost painfully sensitive, he writes letters home that are sweetly poignant, thoughtful, opinionated, and rapturously descriptive of the natural environment he loves. Starting at the age of 16, while still a high school student in Hollywood, California, he journeys to Carmel, Arizona, and the Sierras. Leaving UCLA after one unhappy semester, he returns to the Four Corners region of Arizona and drifts northward into Utah where he follows the Escalante down to the Colorado and then vanishes.
A lover of classical music, a reader of books, poet, writer, water colorist, and block print maker, he considers himself very much a misfit in a world of conformity, where people live lives of quiet desperation, pursuing material goals that make them unhappy and unfulfilled. Torn between his desire for companionship and his love of wilderness solitude, he appreciates warm and welcoming company wherever he happens upon it, and seeks it out when he can, sometimes introducing himself to established artists, such as photographers Edward Weston and Ansel Adams. During visits to the home of painter Maynard Dixon, in San Francisco, he is befriended and photographed by Dixon's wife, Dorothea Lange. One of these photographs eventually appears in a missing persons report in a publication of the Los Angeles Police Department.
It's easy to go on and on about this book. The letters provide such a rich psychological portrait of this young man, full of interesting contradictions and curious prophecies of his eventual fate. Meanwhile, there is the mystery of his disappearance and the various theories and speculation about what may have happened to him, which are also included by the book's author.
I am happy to recommend this book to anyone interested in the West, stories about coming of age and self-reliance, rhapsodic descriptions of nature, personal adventures, the desert, Native Americans, and unsolved mysteries. As companion volumes, I'd also suggest Edward Abbey's "Desert Solitaire" and Eliot Porter's excellent collection of photographs, "The Place No One Knew: Glen Canyon on the Colorado."
Being from No. Az. I was able to comprehend, location wise, Everett's travels and understand his artistic descriptions. Well written in chronological fashion, Rusho challenges readers to speculate on Everett's demise w/o overburdening with his own opinions.
Buy this book and be ready; Everett's a fellow that I think we would all truly like to meet and would appreciate.
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The meat of this book begins with chapter 4, "Wine from Concentrates." And what a chapter it is, covering 13 specific white wine concentrates (Chenin Blanc to Vino Blanc) and 13 specific red wine concentrates (Barbera to Zinfandel), with recipes and step-by-step instructions for each (all suspiciously similar, but if the shoe fits....).
Chapter 5 is "Wine from Juices," and it does a superb job with 15 white grape juices (Chardonnay to Vidal Blanc), 15 red grape juices (Barbera to Zinfandel again, but many in between are different) and one blush.
Chapter 6, "White Wine from Grapes," covers 20 great grapes, from Aurora French-American Hybrid to Vidal Blanc French-American Hybrid, with some real classics in between. Chapter 7 is predictably "Red Wine from Grapes," covering another 20 grapes from Alicante-Bouschet to--again--Zinfandel, but the in-betweens are both classic and unusual.
Chapter 8, "Wine from Fruit," offers up 14 classic non-grape wines--from Apple to Strawberry. I found some of the ingredients thought-provoking(Epsom salts, for example, in fresh-crushed apple juice), but I found their choices of yeast less than inspiring (their heavy reliance on sweet mead yeast was a bit unimaginative, in my opinion).
Chapter 9, "Sparkling and Fortified Wines," offers a very good primer on these subjects, with more emphasis on the latter than the former. Chapter 10 is "Trouble-Shooting," but this, like the first three chapters, has been done better by others.
Criticisms aside, this book is a valuable adjunct to any winemaker's library. Where else can you find recipes for Cayuga French-American Hybrid, Lemberger red or Morio Muskat, all in the same volume? You can bet my copy is already well-thumbed....
I would certainly give the book 5 stars, if not for the fact that it is, mostly, a Dictionary / Reference book. I read the introductory material in one sitting, but the rest of the book is intended as reference material. However, this reference material is Brilliantly categorized as either original "Dee" words and definitions, or attributed to the Golden Dawn, Aleister Crowley, Goetic, etc.--thus, creating a clearly defined listing of Original Enochian and that inspired by Crowley and his own workings with this system of Magick.
... Regardless of the issues surrounding the historical creation (or revelation) of the Enochian Language, it seems to work. The words, of whatever origin, seem to produce a powerful effect upon the atmosphere surrounding the Magickian.
I have not, personally, worked with Enochian, yet--I am only researching the effects I have witnessed, first-hand. From what I have seen, thus-far, I believe Enochian is, in fact, a powerful and Magickal Language.
The origins of the language, although fascinatingly depicted in this book are moot--much like Gravitation and The Theory of Relativity, even if you do not understand the science behind it, it Works.
I highly recommend this Dictionary of Enochian to anyone interested in Magick, Anthropology, The Occult, etc.--the subject is quite interesting.
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Besides trashing Lord Dunsany's character the introduction is a bad two-page college essay written by a person who is totally unknown. Who is Jon Longhi of San Francisco? Here are a few pathetic quotes by Mr. Longhi: Describing Lord Dunsany's writing, "At times these details veer toward the noisome realm of elves and hobbits". The "realm of elves and hobbits" is only "noisome" because the publishers think that readers of H.P. Lovecraft don't like fantasy writing and that Tolkien is not popular right now. However when Ballantine Books published "The King Of Elfland's Daughter" in 1977, when Tolkien was the flavor of the month with publishers, they boasted "A fantasy novel in a class with the Tolkien books!," which ever way the wind blows I guess. Another quote: "psychedelic rave-up of language and imagery...it's great fun riding on the hallucinations." More drug association. "Captain Shard pilots a boat which sails across the desert on huge wheels, just like the main vehicle in the movie Time Bandits." Doesn't this sound childish? What main vehicle in Time Bandits? The only thing with sails in that movie was the ship on the giant's head, but it did not have wheels. Mr. Longhi might be thinking of the building with sails traversing barren wastelands manned by the intrepid crew of the Crimson Assurance Co. in the mini-movie before Monty Python's Meaning of Life.
Either this guy is an absolute idiot or he is just failing miserably to convince me that he is really anything like the people he is trying to reach. Mr. Longhi, like some desperate college sophomore, has padded out his introduction with a variety of multi-syllabic words in the hopes of impressing the average (ignorant) reader. This introduction should be in an anthology of drugstore-swords & sorcery-escapist-self-indulgent-trash.
I know that anthologies of Lord Dunsany's writings are rare but I would rather have them rare and cherishable instead of common and degraded. Most libraries have some of Lord Dunsany's works and through interlibrary loan you should be able to get just about anything written by this laudable fantasist. Do not pollute your personal library with this trash. Let us not reduce Lord Dunsany to the level of pulp. Let us not patronize publishers that drag remarkable writers down to their seedy level so they can make an easy buck. We need to have more respect.
This includes such stories as "Charon," a brief story about the ferryman of the dead; the rather odd "Three Infernal Jokes"; "The Guest," about a young man who launches into a strange monologue; "Thirteen at Table," about a strange house and a fox-hunt; "Three Sailors' Gambit" is somewhat more prosaic, the tale of three sailors in a pub; "The Exiles' Club" is the story of a sumptuous but somehow strange and sinister house in London; "Where the Tides Ebb and Flow" is a dream -- and a darn disturbing one at that, where a young man dreams that "I had done a horrible thing, so that burial was to be denied me either in soil or sea, neither could there be any hell for me"; "The Field" is at first mysterious and then saddening, where someone visits a beautiful field where he senses something terrible; "A Tale of London," where a sultan asks his hashish-eater to tell him about the far-off city of London; "Narrow Escape" tells what occurs when an evil magician decides to obliterate London; "Bethmoora" is the reminiscences of an exotic city that no longer exists; "Hashish Man" is something of a sequel to "Bethmoora," in which a man tells the narrator about how he uses hashish to travel to the city of Bethmoora. "How An Enemy Came to Thlunrana" is how a mighty wizards' citadel was overcome by an unexpected means; "In Zaccarath" is the story of a mighty, beautiful, and seemingly everlasting city and its king; "Idle City" is a very odd one, about a polytheistic/monotheistic city, now very lonely-looking; "The Madness of Andelsprutz" is another story about a "dead" city, in which the narrator is told how a certain city became "soulless".
"Secret of the Sea" is about a very sad sailor; "Idle Days on the Yann" is exactly what it sounds like, a pleasantly plotless but beautifully written story about sailing on the mythical Yann River; "A Tale of the Equator" is about the foreseeing of a magnificent city; "Spring in Town" is about the arrival of a season; "In the Twilight" is the beautifully-written vision of a man whose boat had capsized; "Wind and Fog" is a slightly odd little story about the North Wind and some fog; "A Story of Land and Sea" is the sequel to a story in Book of Wonder, more about Captain Shard; "After the Fire" is what happens when a dark star collides with the world, and what other creatures see in man's temples; "Assignation," the last story in the collection, is about what a poet and Fame have to say to one another.
As for this edition: I must agree with the previous reviewer who commented on the lame cover and unfortunate title, as well as the fact that the binding could be better. That's why it rates four out of a potential five stars. I will also warn buyers that several of these stories appear in other anthologies, so don't be surprised if you bump into things you already have. Many are from the "Last Book of Wonder" or "Dreamer's Tales" and overall they tend to the less fantastical stories.
Dunsany's prose tends to be dreamy, lush, and unabashed in its Eastern tone. There's no starkness here. Despite the title of the collection, there is minimal drug use and it is definitely not recommended by Dunsany's works. His story vary widely in range, but this is an excellent collection and well worth finding.