The Bedside Table

Just read Joshua Ferris' "Then We Came To The End", a novel that begins in a setting more or less like "The Office", with conniving characters, obsessions about minutiae, and a relatively interesting story.

Then, it suddenly took a turn I did not expect. I had to put the book down at a critical point, and the plot machinations had upset me to the point that I didn't really want to finish. But I was past the point where I can give up on a book, so I resolved to finish it, a little reluctantly.

I polished it off late last night, and found out that the plot turn that I was upset about was not what I had thought it was. It was a disheartening experience-I almost felt cheated, like the author had manipulated me. I'm almost offended about how deeply the book affected me.

Now that I've calmed down, I can more reasonably recommend it. It's a good read, but there is a point-I won't tell you where, but you will know it when you see it-where you really shouldn't stop.

I just started Joshua Cooper Ramo's "The Age of the Unthinkable", a nonfiction book about the unpredictability of the modern world. It is a lot less dry than I thought, ranging from art, to physics, to economics, to video games to help explain why everything is more complicated than you probably think.

Books like this are both comforting and terrifying-comforting because I know I'm not the only person who feels this way, and terrifying because I think the author is right and I am pretty close to being the only person that feels this way.