A Lion Among Men

Eight years after Son of a Witch (1907)

As I teased in the last blog regarding the Wicked series, I found the first chapter of A Lion Among Men much better than the last book in the 'Wicked' series and full of promise of more action, better characters and an all around better story. Well, for the most part all of that is true, but....

Given Maguire's prediliction toward apathetic characters doing a lackluster job of finding their purpose in life, I was hardly suprised to find the focus of his third book in the Wicked series to be on the Cowardly Lion.

Sure to form the lion is hardly a character the reader can or wants to sympathise with. The saving grace is Yackle, a character who hid in the shadows of the first two books, but comes to the forefront of a Lion Among Men.

Sadly, Maguire ultimately has learned too well how to tease, and the number of unresolved mysteries are far too many to hold the reader's sense of suspense. What's the point if we're bloody never going to know or understand anything???

I don't know if there are further novels planned for the Wicked Years, and I don't care. The important point is that this book is better than Son of a Witch, has a more satisfying ending, and is also a quick read. Therefore I recommend this book only if you have read the first two and would like to have a better taste left in your mouth for the world of Oz.

The Horror of Fang Rock

1904

At last we come to the Doctor, that renegade Time Lord who has inspired both the longest running science fiction show ever and numurous beatings of young pimply boys wearing long scarfs.

I have written several blogs in other forums inspired by the recently revamped television series, and blabbered endlessly to friends about how great it is regardless of the fact that they could care less. Even my wife, who truly truly could care less about Doctor Who, has found herself caught up at times in the ongoing storylines and a few truly great episodes I forced her to watch. She once told someone that she enjoyed the Van Gogh episode. True story.

But I digress. Doctor Who is just too brainy (or geeky) and too British for the bulk of the American public. But I adore the show, both the original campy version and the new turbo charged series. And this is my blog, dammit. (Well, the blog belongs to all the Gentlemen, but we are allowed to write about any topic here. Should a fellow Fellow disagree, I encourage comments and intelligent debate. Heck, dumb insult comments would be great in lieu of knowing that no one is reading this.)

Historically, Doctor Who aired in twenty minute episodes on PBS here in the States. Generally, four of those episodes would make up a full story. The show usually seemed to air either in the middle of the night, or during the Cosby Show, making it virtually impossible for 12-year old me in the eighties to catch. As a result, I rarely had much of a clue what was going on.

So when 12-year-old me strolled into a little bookstore in the Fifth Street Market and discovered a large selection of Doctor Who novelizations, I was thrilled. These small $3 books became a major guilty pleasure. Now, even then as a kid, I was already reading Frank Herbert and AC Clark. I understood that a 60 page adaptation of a children's TV show was far from quality literature. In fact, most of them plain old stunk. But reading them clarified so many plot points- and they covered the really old storylines which never air on TV- in fact, many of those old shows from the 60's were completely lost or destroyed. Plus, the books featured great art and the collection looked nice on my bookshelf.

Soooo. The timeline. In no way have I worked at adding in a comprehensive Doctor Who listing. Just cataloging the basic episodes is a major undertaking- there are hundreds. Many of them are vague on the settings. And although most episodes are self-contained within one era, owning a time machine means one can jump around at will. The Who continuity timelines I use for reference online are even more overwhelming- including background dates on characters and every mention of the Doctor meeting a historical figure, no matter how vague or off-handed the remark.

Nonetheless I will always find myself surfing tidbits of Gallifreyan lore on the internet, and looking up detailed explanations of how the Doctor sealed the latest crack in time. And yes, when I happen to think about it, I will pull up one of the timelines and look for a good story that occurs in my current era and happens to have a novelization available for sale for 30 cents on Half.com.

Such is the case with The Horror of Fang Rock. I have no recollection of this episode, and am reasonably sure that even in it's prime it was considered a forgettable episode. It does feature Tom Baker, arguably the most popular, or at least best known, Doctor (#4) and his companion Leela, the 14th most popular companion (not to be confused with the Futurama one-eyed chick). *

Witness the trailer for the episode, which starts off good, then gets boring, then gets weird, then gets boring again, then gets kind of awesome at the end.

The thing I notice most about this episode is the notable fact that Leela is fully dressed. I think her character was introduced as a switch up from the pretty smarty-pants Sarah Jane Smith. Leela, by contrast, was a tribal sort, complete with a really big knife that she liked to use to carve up sabretooth tigers, alien invaders, and pimps. But mostly she wore a skimpy tribal outfit a lot. But I guess even female warrior bad-asses get chilly when stalking monsters near lighthouses at night. I also guess that the geek majority in the eighties liked their chicks brainy, because Leela was replaced by Romana, a beautiful but hyper-intelligent Time Lord like the Doctor. I have to admit that faced with a choice between the three, I would pass up the goodie-two-shoes Sarah Jane and the savage Leela for Romana. Ramona was the ideal woman for middle-school me. As a side note, I had almost forgot that Romana regenerated once. The pic is the Romana that I liked.

Nonetheless, I think we should pass on commenting on the story or adaptation of Fang Rock in favor of watching more videos of Leela doing her thing. This video features some sweet knife throwing, plus that awesome scene where Leela bitch-slaps the screaming lady.


* To answer the age-old question of which Leela I would rather have with me in a fight: Futurama Leela. The wikipedia entry I linked earlier states that Futurama Leela is a master of martial arts and is able to best most males of any species in a fight. She also has access and affection for various weapons of the 31st century. Doctor Who Leela, on the other hand, is more comfortable with a knife than a laser gun, and relies more on brute violence than fighting technique. And, when you Google the word 'Leela', all kinds of sexy fan-art pops up of Futurama Leela. So, there's that.

Wayne Cochran and the C.C. Riders on the Jackie Gleason Show.

Warlord of the Air

1903

I mentioned in a note to myself that the book I am currently reading mentions the topic of a prior post, Prince Kropotkin. Sure enough, on page 112 of the collected series edition I am reading, who should show up but Vladimir Ilyitch Ulianoz- an ancient Russian revolutionary with a distictive beard.

This thinly veiled historical figure pops his head up in an alternate history earth where he does little to advance the plot but much to advance author Michael Moorcock's opinions on racism, imperialism, socialism and anarchist politics.

Anyway, all of this really drives home the point that most of the first volume in this series, Warlord of the Air, takes place in the year 1973. Based on that (plus the 1971 publishing date) that is where I placed this series on my timeline. Turns out that may have been a mistake, as the novel actually starts out in 1903 when the author's alleged grandfather meets the main character, Oswald Bastable.

But wait! The entire series is framed by another 'story within a story' context. The very very beginning of the book is "real-life" 1971 Michael Moorcock discovering the writings of his grandfather. So the real real timeframe of the novel is 1971! Right?

You tell me, Dear Reader. I put way too much thought into the SETTING, and it really throws me off when you throw in time travel, shifting contexts, and toss in alternate histories on top of it all. Where does this series belong?

Public Service Announcement

This important issue is something all Gentlemen who are also fathers face at some point. As a service provided by the Quorum we present this short video.

I wish I was a little bit Mormon.

It's difficult to get all the way behind most religions. But Mormonism is a no-brainer. If it was possible to just choose a religion I would probably go with Hinduism (I'm a sucker for ancient Sanskrit stuff). But my second choice would be Mormonism.

Chili Can Be Served With Cheese

Son of a Witch

1899

Son of a Witch is the sequel to Wicked and was published ten years later. Maguire dedicated the novel to the cast of the musical 'Wicked', although the title character, Liir, had been written out of the musical. I found it to be a very inconsistant book. It alternated between fascinating and dull, fast-paced and slow. It never establishes itself as a continuation of Wicked or a story in it's own right. Even the style seems to alternate between mature and juvenile. It's no surprise that the growth and maturity of Liir's character is anticlimactic being that he is such an apathetic character- and never really grows out of it.

I continued on with this series because of my interest in how Oz is being handled, and Son of a Witch is a much quicker and easier read than Wicked. The first chapter of the third book, A Lion Among Men, is in of itself more entertaining than all of Son of a Witch put together. I can only really recommend the second book to committed fans of Oz and the Wicked novels.

Hunters And Gatherers.

Discussing the distinctions and discrepancies of the genders is taboo.  Seriously, just shut up about it.  Your opinion is poisonous and our society proudly wields this secret inequality as an ethical sword against the sexist moral decrepitude of less civilized cultures.  Women and men are exactly the same in every way.

For instance: women cannot be better CEO’s.  It would be sexist to say such a thing.  Their ability to value justice over victory does not position them to have an advantageous skillset over men in this regard.  It’s ridiculous to suppose that, when given the opportunity to make decisions, with the benefit of advisement resources, and the time to sit down and carefully measure and consider all facets of a pending predicament…the fairer sex has a better track record at making the successful call.  The homerun swinging male CEO’s are just as prudent.  The rash of golden parachuting corporate profiteering CEO's, that has widened the popularly publicized divide between Wall St. and Main St., have largely been greedy white dudes.  But this is just a silly coincidence.  Men handle power with poise and grace.  This is social fact.  Do not argue. 

And men cannot be more effective COO’s.  Women are just as capable of directing the assembly line minutia of the daily grind.  Quick wits and the emotional agility to recover from temporary failures do not position males to succeed in the day-to-day management of an organization.  When a rapidly changing environment requires stability and an even keeled demeanor…you can expect a woman to do just as well as a man.  What kind of mid-century pig would suggest otherwise?

Our culture dismisses the notion that women and men can and should play different roles.  And so we lie to ourselves.  Every happily married man I know, myself included, understands how to roll with this modern family prevarication.  The wife is clearly the CEO of the home; but the husband wears the title of “head of household”.  Who are we fooling?  We know that we’re all happier when we help support the direction set forth by the CEO.  But this arrangement damages our iconic masculinity.  And so we put on a show and overcompensate for this loss of control.  Maybe it’s a mild form of bravado flag flying like flatulence or fantasy football…or maybe it’s a full blown midlife crisis.  But we do not accept the role of 2^nd in charge very well.  Even if we do a pretty good job at pretending that we do.

And the husband is much better at dealing with the daily bullshit and maintenance of the family circle.  We are the COO’s.  But our wives aren’t willing/able/ready to fully give up the idea that they are still homemaker’s.  Don’t believe me?  Just take a look at what magazines are laying around the house.  Every wife secretly wants to be her grandmother and she keeps this romantic notion alive via a magazine subscription.  Women do not accept that the male management style of “not sweating the small stuff” as responsible nor thoughtful.  The guilt that they carry, for bringing home a paycheck while somebody else raises their kids, is sometimes too much to bear.  And so we all agree to pretend like women are mostly responsible for the daily details….and men pull the trigger on the big decisions.  We are the hunters.  They are the gatherers.  

Wicked

1889

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West


Let me start off by clarifying that I have never seen the musical. My family owns and listens to the soundtrack, so I am passingly familiar with some of the songs, but never really listened to it. I read this book because of my interest in the original series by Baum, which I read as a kid.



As I read through Wicked, I occasionally asked my wife about the musical and was able to ascertain pretty quickly that there is not a ton of similarity between the two. The original novel treats the characters of Oz very seriously within the context of the fantasy world. Although much of the story is about the friendship (and sometime rivalry) between Elpheba and Glinda, most of the subplot is quite political. The corruption of the Wizard, the supression of animal rights and other adult themes contrast to Elpheba's maturation from cynical young maid into political activist and eventual hermetic "witch".

I couldn't help but compare the anti-heroism of Elpheba to another character who let young idealism twist his moral compass, however much less plausibly.

Yeah, well, we could list a whole slew of reasons why Star Wars fans are disappointed in Anakin Skywalker's transformation into Vader. Ultimately, Anakin had every reason to be a great jedi, and even though Kenobi told us how he failed as a mentor, he really wasn't that bad. Anakin is just a dumb jerk, really.

Elpheba, however, fights off misconceptions about her from day one until the end. The reader knows it will all end in a puddle on the floor, and yet we care about this chick and hope that someone will "get it" before it's all over. The fact that she is still grossly misunderstood and feared when she finally meets Dorothy is the greatest tragedy.

There is nothing in the Wicked series to pinpoint an exact time setting, and it was written as a children's format where relation to the real world is completely subjective, changing and unimportant. The original novel was published in 1900, and the stories were always written to take place in current time. Where the movie is fairly explicit in writing Oz off as a dream, every novel written treats it as an actual land, although it is inconsistant in whether it is a hidden desert with the US, sitting in a seperate continent hidden by magic, or most likely existing in another dimensional plane.

The Oz books were subject to sequels and revisions by numurous other authors, some of whom I have tracked down and read in addition to Maguire's series. I will cover them soon in this blog.

As I write this it is Thanksgiving evening and as I sit here with a filled belly, I remember childhood nights tucked into hotel beds (grew up in hotels) falling asleep watching the Wizard of Oz on TV. As I look forward to doing the same thing tonight, it seems fitting that I should whip out this blog first. 'Wicked: the Life and times of the Wicked Witch of the West' may put a very different spin on the childhood tale, but it still manages to transport us back into a land of talking animals and emerald cities of magic.

Memoirs of a Revolutionist

1842 - 1921

I take great pride in the fact that I read a lot, even if most of what I read is fluff fantasy. At least I try to keep the mind engaged, and read authors who are influenced by great literature. With my timeline agenda I have tried to incorporate original material that will a) be something I've never read (or can't remember very well at all), b) fit in or enhance the reading of other works in the same genre or otherwise directly influenced by my reading material, and/or c) be entertaining.

I have no shame in being proud when my criteria occasionally leads me to read something that may be perceived by others as lofty reading material. I may be seen carrying around a "classic", perhaps, or a tome one might expect to be read by English Lit professors. Heck, pretty much any non-fiction outside of the "Dummies Guide to..." and I swell with preconceived pride at being smart and engaged enough to be reading something more important than Harry Potter.

Memoirs of a Revolutionist is the highlight, perhaps, of my career as a wannabee-intellectual. I have to come clean and admit that this is one of the hardest books I've struggled through since I sat down to read the bible cover to cover, and I did eventually give up when the library told me I couldn't renew it any longer. I am sure I was just getting to the good part, too.

The autobiography of Peter Kropotkin, most of the book details just how miserable it was to live in Russia at the turn of the century. Many parts of the book strain believability, simply in terms of how different things were a hundred years ago, and how interesting Kropotkin's life was.

I'm really not sure why Kropotkin made it onto my reading list. Apparently he is referenced in something I read and I felt compelled to slap his name onto the timeline. Modern day activist poets remember Kropotkin less as a scientist or writer but chiefly as the "Anarchist Prince". So I'm guessing this may have been a Grant Morrison-Invisibles reference- more on that later!

Peter Kroptkin was a cool dude. He did a lot of stuff and is probably undeservedly unrecognized for a lot of it. His life was pretty interesting overall, but.... I can't recommend this book to anyone unless you are a student of anarcho-communism, or you would like something pretentious looking to walk around with and pretend to read in coffeee shops.

On my next blog entry we will travel to the land of Oz!

You Look Like Shit

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

1898

One would think that this blog is subversively dedicated to the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and in some ways I guess that's true. My posts, anyway, and my hand in creating and naming the blog.

I'm actually quite tempted to skip reviewing this comic book series altogether. Enough has been said about it in plenty of other blogs. Heck, Alan Moore probably would rather not discuss it himself. And nothing will ever, ever, ever wash away the vomit-burp taste of that movie adaptation. I could talk about how the League influenced my desire to read everything ever written in chronological order, but you can read that here.

I could use the crossover forum to talk about how I have always been a fan of friend crossover in real life. That is to say, I enjoy introducing people to each other. This helps explain why I was an early adopter of online social networking. I think I read an article on Friendster and was instantly fascinated. But in the real world I have long seen a parallel between my groups of friends and crossovers. Hear me out.

I have moved around a lot. Although in some ways I have suffered a lack of deep roots I have more than made up for it by meeting so many wonderful people all over the country and world. In some cases we have formed informal clubs or gangs, a trend I am usually spearheading. These groups are sometimes named and identified, other times we just know who we are in a more subversive and subconscious sort of way. I can trace it as far back as a Monty Python inspired middle school club called the Confused Morons. In it's current incarnation it would be PFAC, a 'Guy's Night Out' sort of group that exists in several different incarnations, or perhaps chapters would be a good way of putting it. This blog is one such sub-set. At times I realize that I have been a fringe member of other cliques, gangs, or general groups of friends.

What I really get a kick out of, though, is the rare occasions that I have been able to get a friend from one era of my life to come and "party" with another group of friends. Everyone loves to introduce old friends to new ones, stop looking at me so weird. It's just that I tend to see it more in the light of Wolverine dropping by the Justice League HQ to hang out with Batman.



And yes, I realize that this blog actually will not encourage anyone to hang out with me.

Back to the Extraordinary League of Gentlemen!!! Fans of comic books have grown quite bored with promotionalized crossovers like Marvel vs. DC, it's been quite overdone.

Alan Moore put a huge spin on things, though, when he used Victorian characters from unliscensed literature and dropped them in a steampunk world. He dusted off dudes that both we and our parents grew up with as the standard in fantasy and science-fiction, honored their true roots and origins at the same time as he revamped them to be much cooler.



Not everyone is as enraptured by crossover fiction and old English writing, but I find the depth of detail of each subsequent volume to be mind-blowing. By volume three I cease toting it's merits and simply advise lazy readers to stick the the NY Times list. Understanding the background, hints, easter eggs, characters and storylines of the ongoing series is so overwhelming that only those willing to treat the series as a homework assignment in the history of fantasy and fiction are prepared to enjoy it. Writers of comics that require annotations are to be honored... because that's AWESOME.

Unfortunately, the 1988 version of the League as assembled by "Doc" Brown is a fake.


Next Up: Memoirs of a Revolutionist.

speak in tongues in cheeks

Take a step at a time, a swing at the glass chins of the last men to find 
you where we hid our self. A carousel. Not a care in the world. 
Hot to trot, straight as an arrow: got caught with empty bones. 
Folding in and out: helical riddle.  
Coding doubt into Morse signals.  
Take out menus and take out your teeth and take out loans 
to speak in tongues in cheeks.

Life was more pleasant when the enemy wore fur.

I miss the Cold War.

When the conflict was centered around socio-economic principle and the opponent had the same healthy fear of nukes that we had. Nuclear war was a moot war. A safe war. The Rooskies weren't strapping dynamite to themselves. Which, by the way, is completely rude.

Spy versus spy. We raced to the moon. Life was more pleasant when the enemy wore fur.

Remember when the battle was for world supremacy? Power, global position and political ideology...these were romantic notions that made our conflict with Russia seem noble. The biggest mistake we ever made was walking away from the Cold War. Choosing to use our military machine to fight over finite resources in the desert....that's just asking for trouble. I blame Oliver North.

Movember

Please peep this blog post from The Art of Manliness, a blog just like ours but probably much better and certainly more manly. I am thinking of participating and spreading the word. I could use a good excuse to get past the child molester stage of mustache growth (which for me would probably last the entire month of November).

Fight Prostate Cancer by Growing a Mustache: The 2010 Movember Contest

The Invisible Man

1897



I'm not sure I have much to add to my original thumbnail review, so here it is in it's entirety and un-edited:

While clearly a science-fiction classic, and groundbreaking for it's time, I found it to be a little thin compared to many of it's contemporaries. For the first part of the book I struggled to muddle through the pigeon English of the towns people who are supposed to add humor and character to the story. When we finally meet someone we can actually relate to, Kemp, the story turns to endless exposition and an abrubt end. Kudos to Wells for some extremely original and brilliant ideas of invisibility, which still largely shape the concept today. My favorite part: That Griffin is an albino- never knew that, and it adds some great villiany to the character!

While the original has been re-done and re-booted in the movies many times, the character of Griffin mostly remained dead and the idea of the Invisible Man was largely relegated to the Fantastic Four and Kevin Bacon.



Like many of my other characters of focus, Griffin is wonderfully brought back to life in the League of EG. In that series he takes part in a series of exciting adventures, proves to be a lecherous gentleman, and (NOT THE FIRST SPOILER OF THE BLOG) dies a fantastic death.

Anyway, I don't suggest running out to read the book, or even watching the classic Claude Reins movie version. But I do suggest you google images of the Invisible Man, 'cause a lot of them are really cool.

Next Up: I actually review the LoEG so we can move on with our lives.

& now for a brief musical interlude...

And We're Back!

I have been getting a ton of emails from my legion of fans wondering when my posts would resume. Luckily, my fellow bloggers, the Gentlemen, have been keeping this blog going on my behalf over the past month while I've been moving. Or not.

Yes, I'm afraid that all of my hobbies have dropped off the face of the earth for the last month or two as I've pushed through the most difficult and complicated move of my life. No more Thursday night RPG club. No more appearances at the local Concert in the Park- which means no jello shots. My friends who moan they don't see me enough since my move little realize just how little I've seen my own wife and kids this summer.

And even as I am about to write that I am done with the moving, I remember how I am going to be returning for one last trailer load tomorrow, and am, in fact, not done moving. SIGH.

But there is hope! As the afternoon thundershowers carry the whiff of autumn in the air as they piss in the basement of my new house, our thoughts turn to annual autumnal rituals of pigskin and beer. Yes, the PFAC Fantasy Football League made it's triumphant return for a third year of uncontested sports/fantasy action. Major tension brewed as in a strange twist of fate players actually competed to gain an entry into this exclusive organization. Sorry to the losers who will miss out on the fun this year- good luck in your other leagues.

So I promise you, my dear Reader, that I have continued to nod off to new and exciting books at bedtime, and will be posting about them soon. Stay tuned!

Chocolate Bollywood Mummies

She says it isn't about sex.  But it is. 

Somehow, vampires are sexy.  I'm not sure if it's the bad-boy thing or the mysteriously brooding demeanor or the blood sucking. 

I really hope it isn't the blood sucking.  But she's turned on by the idea of vampires. 

And werewolves apparently.


I'm talking about my wife, your wife, girlfriend, sister, mom....all of 'em.  Blood lusting fetishists.

What I think would add a lot to the Twighlight saga is a hot ass Mummy. 

Okay, seriously...hear me out.
Just imagine his bandages coming unwrapped to reveal open wounds, oozing pure molten milk chocolate.

NOTHING is as sexy as chocolate.  But we can't do the chocolate vampire thing because of trademark infringement on the Count Chocula character.  But that's cool.  Because a chocolate mummy would be smoking hot.  Fondue hot.

And I usually don't feel like I have to pile on the awesome; but what if we tapped into the street cred of Slumdog and gave our Cocoa Zombie some Bollywood zing?  THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT!

Somebody get Hershey's and MIA on the phone right now!

Dracula

1893

Bram Stoker's Dracula originated the vampire genre and continues to inspire horror writers, pre-teen book series adored by housewives and legions of goth freaks. And while monsters and scary stories have existed since the dawn of time, Stoker probably defined the modern horror genre better than anyone.

It is easy to understate the importance of Van Helsing, though. Dracula is full of young, healthy men and women who are pretty easily seduced, intimidated and attacked by the Count. From Helsing's earliest notes and appearances you know right away that he is The Man. Not infallable, but his overall knowledge and wisdom makes him the only thing standing in Dracula's way. And his age is what makes him so uniquely cool; the idea of him as a young Indiana Jones type totally goes against everything that makes Van Helsing awesome. No disrespect to the Twilight fans lusting over some 18 year dude with his shirt off, but back in the day being smart counted for a whole lot more.

Has Dracula ever crossed over with other fictional characters? Oh yeah. Like Sherlock Holmes, he's appeared everywhere. Including with Sherlock Holmes. He has been in 100's of cartoons, is a regular in both DC and Marvel comics (including his own popular title in the seventies, Tomb of Dracula, which itself spun off the series Blade: Vampire Hunter), hundreds of adaptations, television appearances, and of course Mr. T!



I can't resist posting this one, too:



OK, back to Dracula. Suffice it to say that as one of the most popular fictional characters ever, Drac has his spot in any fictional universe.

As for reading the book- this is another one that I had tried to read as a kid and got pretty bored with. The letters and diary format combined with the turn of the century victorianism and generally slow pace lost me immediately as a child. Picking it up again a year and a half ago was a much different experience, even without the crossover universe context. Sure, there are parts that drag along and put me to sleep, but much of the story contains imagery that is as intense and frightening as when it was written. Compared to most dumb brute monsters, vampires are sexy, invasive and... dirty. It all started here, albeit with the help of centuries of folklore and myth, building up to the southeastern european legends that inspired Stoker.

The version I read was an annotated version- a very serious take on researching every little reference in the book. This version came out around the same time as the above-average movie version of the nineties. I was excited to have so much information at my fingertips, but as the book dragged on it became apparent that most of the info in the indentation was redundant and filler. Perhaps other annotated/expanded versions are more exciting, but mine made the book much slower and harder to read, to the point that I began ignoring the annotations.

Just for good measure, here are some other semi-random Dracula pictures to make your day a little better. Because Dracula is awesome.