disassociated

One thing you can say for certain about American author David Sedaris is that he polarises opinion. Some people think he’s wonderful. Others are far less complimentary.

Freelance Australian writer Annemarie Fleming, used to be a fan of Sedaris, until she saw him speaking during a recent Australian tour. Fleming found a number of Sedaris’ quips to be off-colour, but his repeated boasts about flying first class, were the last straws:

Throughout his 90-minute performance, he mentioned that he flies first class multiple times. By the third time, I found myself on my feet and walking towards the usher.

Sedaris polarises opinion.

In 2013, I wrote about distasteful comments he made, following the suicide death of his youngest sister, Tiffany. In 2025, that piece remains among one of the most accessed posts on my website.

Melbourne based Australian author Robert Lukins returns with a new novel, Somebody Down There Likes Me, a follow up to his 2022 book, Loveland.

As with Loveland and his 2018 debut, The Everlasting Sunday, Somebody Down There Likes Me, is set outside Australia, this time in a town called Belle Haven, in Connecticut, in the United States, during the final years of the twentieth-century:

Against the backdrop of the last decadent gasps of the twentieth century, the Gulch family have led a charmed existence in the ultra-wealthy enclave of Belle Haven, Connecticut. Now, the empire they have built is on the edge of collapse, and as the decades of fraud and criminality that lie beneath the family’s incredible wealth is exposed, the Gulch children are summoned.

I read Loveland a couple of years ago, and look forward to Somebody Down There Likes Me. I must also get hold of The Everlasting Sunday as well.

Ukrainian film director Oksana Karpovych’s documentary, Intercepted, which features phone calls between invading Russian soldiers and their families in Russia, has one of the starkest trailers I’ve seen in a long while.

Phil Hoad, writing for The Guardian, described Intercepted as chilling, and compelling:

Juxtaposing intercepted calls back home from frontline Russian troops with shots of the devastation they have wreaked in Ukraine, this film is a bleak and searing wiretap into Putin’s warping effect on his people and the psychology of power.

20 Hours for 20Talk.

This fund raising event, taking place in Perth, Australia, on Monday 29 March 2025, has been popping up in my news feeds in recent weeks.

Two hundred and fifty participants will spend twenty-hours in a space just two metres square, sans screens and devices. Talking is also out of the question. Instead, those taking part will write their thoughts in a journal. The goal is to raise a quarter of a million dollars to create two thousand and one hundred Mental Health Maintenance scholarships for young adults.

Twenty-hours without screens, devices, and talking? This sounds like an opportunity some people would want to jump at…

Jack Cheng, an author based in Detroit, Michigan, in the United States, hosts a now fortnightly online get together called a digital mending circle:

What, you ask, is a digital mending circle? A virtual co-working session for the kinds of oft-neglected maintenance tasks that accrue around our digital lives. Instead of darning socks and patching jeans, we update personal websites, delete unused accounts, work on side projects, or even just catch up on email.

The sessions run for ninety-minutes. It’s a smart idea, blocking off a set amount of time on a regular basis, to devote to these sorts of minor, but still important, matters. I find myself trying to do things like this when a free ten to fifteen minute window randomly opens up.

Lucy Knight, writing for The Guardian:

[] soon we may not see so many of these author blurbs — Sean Manning, publisher of Simon & Schuster’s flagship imprint in the US, has written an essay for Publishers Weekly explaining that as of this year he will “no longer require authors to obtain blurbs for their books”.

A celebrity blurb is where a well known author offers some brief praise for the work of a new, or not so well known, writer. Examples could be something like: “a veritable page-turner”, or “a forceful new talent”. But it’s not always clear whether the author offering the endorsement has even read the book in question. That’s one reason why I take a dim view of celebrity blurbs.

I’m more interested in a novel’s synopsis, and then — where possible — seeking out some consensus as to whether the book is good or bad, through a website like Hardcover. After all, life is too short to spend reading novels you might not like.

But what surprises, and irks me, is that blurb is an official book publishing term. It sounds like a colloquialism, which it very much is, but it seems like a word people use because they don’t know the correct term to use. Sarney is a colloquialism, but sandwich is what is meant.

Wikipedia defines a blurb as a “a short promotional piece“, and celebrity endorsements aside, are usually more a short, yet enticing, summary of a novel. Here is the publisher’s blurb for Christian White’s most recent novel, The Ledge, which I wrote about last week:

When human remains are discovered in a forest, police are baffled, the locals are shocked and one group of old friends starts to panic. Their long-held secret is about to be uncovered. It all began in 1999 when sixteen-year-old Aaron ran away from home, drawing his friends into an unforeseeable chain of events that no one escaped from unscathed. In The Ledge, past and present run breathlessly parallel, leading to a climax that will change everything you thought you knew. This is a mind-bending new novel from the master of the unexpected.

That’s more like a synopsis, or even a summary, albeit with a promotional bent. Films are marketed with a similar sort of write-up, but synopsis is usually the go-to term, even though people sometimes call them blurbs. But blurb sounds like the sort of word I might otherwise be, maybe with some trepidation, looking up on Urban Dictionary.

Henceforth, I shall do away with the blubbery blurb, and go with synopsis or summary.

Becoming Led Zeppelin, trailer, a documentary made by Irish-British filmmaker Bernard MacMahon, is screening in Australian cinemas at present, and tells the story of the English band’s first two years, from 1968 to 1970.

I listened to their 1971 rock classic Stairway to Heaven — one of their many compositions — and I have to say, they don’t make them like they used to. I doubt anyone could make them like they used to now, even if they wanted to.

Oh to be a rock and not to roll…

David M. Webb, a retired investment banker based in Hong Kong, writes about closing his website, aptly named webb-site, which he launched in 1998, on account of terminal illness:

I hope to reach 60 in August and all I want for my birthday is another one, but before I become more dysfunctional, I need to make plans for the orderly conclusion of this pro bono, loss-making work rather than leave managing it as a burden for my family. One of the few benefits of knowing that you’re dying is being able to plan the end on your own terms.

Despite being online for about the same amount of time, I’d never heard of Webb, or his website, until I read his valedictory post yesterday. What a terrible time it must be though, for him, and his family, with his illness.

His post raises some soul searching matters though. I’ve not (really) given any thought to what happens to this website after I am gone. I did get as far as seeing if my web host offered advance paid long term hosting packages, so my website survives me for at least some period of time. This was after I saw some writing on the subject about eight or nine months ago maybe.

But I just picture myself keeping on keeping on here, and hope any preservation plans will be easy to implement when they become necessary. Webb says he does not intend that his website remain online after his death. This seems a shame, especially for one that’s been around for some twenty-seven years. Instead, Webb hopes his website, and work, will live on through the Internet Archive.

Maybe that will be the case for many website owners.

American actor Jesse Eisenberg played Meta/Facebook co-founder Mark Zuckerberg in The Social Network, David Fincher’s 2010 dramatisation about the founding of Facebook. The screenplay, written by Aaron Sorkin, was based on Ben Mezrich’s 2009 book, The Accidental Billionaires.

Despite being part fiction, Zuckerberg was not impressed with his portrayal, saying Fincher and Sorkin were only accurate with his wardrobe. Think the hoodie, and those fuck you flip-flops.

For those who have not seen The Social Network, the now Meta CEO comes across as a brash, arrogant individual, who has virtually no regard for authority, and little respect for anyone other than himself. Particularly women, and the people he called friends. But Zuckerberg’s upset was understandable; few people would relish being presented in such a light.

Perhaps Fincher and Sorkin recognised that by way of one of the final lines in the film, delivered by Marylin Delpy (Rashida Jones), a lawyer acting for Zuckerberg, who said: “You’re not an asshole Mark, but you’re trying so hard to be one.” In other words, Fincher and Sorkin were trying to give a young Zuckerberg — as someone who’d become a little too obsessed with his ambitions for the the fledgling social network — the benefit of the doubt.

Some of Zuckerberg’s recent actions however may have removed any doubts. Revising Meta’s fact checking and content moderation policies, and scaling back the company’s diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) recruiting programs, among them. Some people may be thinking Fincher and Sorkin had nailed Zuckerberg’s character from the get go.

Even Eisenberg, whose portrayal of Zuckerberg was, I thought, pure class, seems to be of the same opinion. Speaking recently, while promoting his new film, A Real Pain, Eisenberg said he didn’t want to be thought of as being associated with the Meta CEO:

These people have billions upon billions of dollars, like more money than any human person has ever amassed and what are they doing with it? Oh, they’re doing it to curry favour with somebody who’s preaching hate. That’s what I think… not as like a person who played in a movie. I think of it as somebody who is married to a woman who teaches disability justice in New York and lives for her students are going to get a little harder this year.

A disturbing development in a twenty-five year old missing persons case sees a group of old school friends reluctantly reunite. All have reason to be fearful of the re-opened police investigation, and all are willing to do whatever it takes to ensure they are not incriminated. It’s not easy to be sure who to trust, or exactly who knows what about that tragic day many years earlier in 1999.

The Ledge wouldn’t be a Christian White novel if it didn’t feature a twist that leaves you breathless, and wondering whether you’ve been paying attention. White’s fourth novel will not let you down.

I read The Ledge in three days, a sprint compared to my usual glacial pace, often reading until two or three in the morning. Calling this a page-turner is an understatement.

I also suggest you read White’s earlier novels, The Nowhere Child, his debut, and The Wife and the Widow, his second novel, which in trademark style, are also set across dual timelines. I’m yet to read his third novel, Wild Places, published in 2022. I’ll need to catch up on some sleep before then.