Dancing robots getting off with no apology to Dubya. Or something like that.

It's no secret I'm a fan of Dubya - his 2004 victory was the impetus for this blog's creation - so I'd wager it's a bit of surprise when I say I just finished his presidential autobiography Decision Points, a year after its publication. Yes, it's shameful of me, but in fairness I do have a poster of the book's cover adorning my locker at work. I deserve at least partial credit for that.

Stylistically, I didn't love the book. The format is reminiscent of 41's own Presidential memoir, which focused on specific crises instead of a chronological approach. I liked both books, but wouldn't have minded a more in-depth examination of the day to day of the office.

In addition the book sometimes seemed written in staccato little bursts, without much description or grace. The text does improve dramatically, IMO, as the book progresses, which is odd, as I say hook 'em early, but maybe it's what it seems like; an author simply gaining confidence and direction as he gets more practice under his belt.

Content-wise, I thought the book was great, providing detail and corroborating evidence for many of the decisions he made. Even a casual read tips you off at how biased and selective the media and the Left were during his administration. I have more to say, but I'm wise enough to know that he's a polarizing figure, and your take on the book will be manipulated by your opinion of the man himself.

As I am not a nut, a hippie, or a Hollywood actor, I greatly enjoyed the book.
I am certain, absolutely certain, that 100 years from now this man will be ranked among the top tier of US Presidents.



Gotta Dance is a documentary about a senior citizens hip hop dance group that performed at the home games of the New Jersey Nets (NBA). It was fun to watch and the performers had personality galore. It teetered on the edge of exploitation for a second, holding the group up as little more than a novelty PR stunt, but it found its footing and succeeded in showing them as a courageous, impressive bunch. Available to stream via Netflix.



I won't spend much time on Mitt Romney's book, No Apology, simply because its mentioned in a Facebook related post already. Obama lite? Read this and try saying that phrase with a straight face. The guy destroys Obama on foreign policy and lays out a pro-business, centrist domestic agenda too. My only beef was with his energy policy, or rather the chapter on it, as it was clearly written to appease everyone on both sides, and hence satisfies no one.



I rented Transformers 3 knowing the atrocity that was its predecessor; no plot, fight scenes where you couldn't tell who was who, wayyyyy too long, etc.

This one? This one was damned good.

Ok, sure, the love interest was lame. Not only did this kid land yet another supermodel girlfriend, he managed to score one that was just as bad an actress as the first. Geesh.

But aside from that, I loved the film. The plot was (mostly) coherent, you could easily ID the good guys from the bad, the humans were more than window dressing and played a role in shaping the future of their world, and the effects - oh Mommy. The special effects were wicked good. That twisty/snakey thing that chewed up a skyscraper? The car chase on the DC Beltway? Wow.

Yeah, yeah, it's a popcorn flick. I still think it rocked. A.



You know what didn't rock? Lawrence Block's new book Getting Off. I love the guy, even if his dialogue sometimes veers towards cutesy, but this one was a turd. The main character, a stunningly beautiful woman, was involved in an ongoing sexual relationship with her father in her teenage years. Ick. Double ick for having it referenced in some detail more than once. Triple ick for having it tossed out there when it was no longer essential to driving the plot.

Oh, and then she grows up and makes her living by seducing men, torturing and killing them, and stealing their money. You know, scalping a man while forcing him to have sex with her, then mutilating his . . .

Ick.

I didn't finish the book, and I hope you never try. What a waste of time, money, and dead trees.

Ick.