Alastair

This is as good an excuse as any to share this letter from F. Scott Fitzgerald to an aspiring (and, I dearly hope, not too crushed) novelist:

Worst case, it's a bit of positive reinforcement for said cycling. There's no obligation to create or improve a routine - just log it as you do it, and you may find yourself naturally aiming a little higher as a result. I can't speak for Plyem, but enthustic promotion like this is perfectly normal behaviour for Fitocracy users. If it works for you, it's hard not to wish that same success on others, even at the risk of evangelicising. Keep spreadin' the good word, brother.

After seeing Mr. Brown namedrop it a couple of times on these forums, and Chris Remo give it five stars on Goodreads, I picked up Carl Wilson's book on Céline Dion's Let's Talk About Love. An absolutely amazing read so far. Thank you. Just one third into this tiny volume, Wilson has covered an incredible amount of ground. It has none of the snarky or obvious points I expected from the premise (a critic who dislikes Céline Dion trying to pinpoint her appeal). Instead, he uses Céline as a sincere launching point for all sorts of fascinating tangents: Quebec's national identity, the myths of globalisation and the lineage of parlour music and Italian opera, to name a few. It's funny, earnest, well-researched, and full little epiphany moments I have to stop and write down. It would make a wonderful change of pace if you're ever looking to shake things up.

Hey, neat! I'd come in specifically to suggest an Idle Thumbs Fitocracy group. It's a concept that works far better than it has any right to, and it's far likelier to do so with a solid community group or two for support. Some local friends and I - none of us terribly fit people - have really gotten a lot out of it these past few months. I owe this app a great deal of gratitude. While this has been talked up as healthy gamification (ouch - I feel dirty just using that word), there's far more to it as a motivational tool: Peer support. There's a brilliant "we're all in this together" feel from seeing other members' activities. Seeing someone else manage daily workouts will tend to inspire other group members to match it. Not out of competition or guilt; just the reality that you can do better. The feeling of progress. The points system is arbitrary and not always balanced, but that's irrelevant. Simply seeing one number go up to a higher number is a much-needed reminder that you're doing permanent good here. The act of tracking forces you to think about and readjust your habits. (Goodreads members will probably relate to this. I've been pitching that site recently as "Fitocracy for books".) The sense that every little bit counts. Casual walking, climbing stairs and stretching - and yes, video game dancing - are all listed activities. Most importantly: digital fist bumps. Even if you only manage a short walk once a month, there will be somebody there to cheer you on. Again, there's no guilt, only encouragement. I also suggest downloading the RunKeeper app, which automatically sends all recorded runs/walks/cycles/hikes to Fitocracy. This'd be me, for the record. Dare to dream, Thumbs. DARE TO DREAM!

Jurassic Park and Independence Day are both getting 3D cinematic re-releases in 2013. Or, to steal a line from a friend, The Year of Gol3Dblum. Update: Christmas is cancelled.

I was very pleasantly surprised by Hugh Laurie's The Gun Seller. Not by the humour, mind. To anyone familiar with his career in British comedy, it's no surprise the man has a knack for funny moments, with plenty of brilliant Raymond Chandleresque similes, and clever turns of phrase that hold up admirably to the alarmingly high standard of English comedy writing. No, the surprise came from just how credible it was as a spy novel. A very funny and self-aware one, yes, but it can be cynical, sweet, thrilling and gutting whenever it needs to be. The overall story and resolution might not hold up to intense scrutiny, but it's really quite heartfelt in the moment-to-moment telling. Bonus fact: Laurie got this accepted by a publisher under a pseudonym, not wanting this to be seen as a lazy celebrity cash-in, and had to be persuaded to attach his own name. Well done, that man. Now he's conquered the sitcom, drama, stage, jazz album and novel, I'm selfishly half-hoping he proves dreadful at something. Maybe he's only a mediocre taxidermist. Goodreads Amazon Audible

I know 90-year-old classics are fair game, but would you mind putting

I actually loved the absurdity of that particular scene. The bodyguard namedropping Asimov characters (hinting at past in-depth discussions with Goode) struck me as too gleefully ridiculous not to be self-aware. I do, however, harbour a very deep belief that anything is funnier if it takes place an airship. (My current labour of love is an ensemble audio sitcom set on board a blimp.) I want to believe Chabon was chuckling at the implausibility of it all as he typed. This personal exception aside, I thought you were spot-on about the more casual, less extreme examples, such as Gwen's interest in Star Trek. Not implausible, not necessarily uncharacteristic; just a bit forced. A reference for its own sake.

First, a quick word of warning: at least one paperback edition outlines about 80% of the broader story on its back cover. While the beauty is in the delivery and context, you'll be better off if you can resist the temptation. With that out of the way: Wow. I'm currently in that euphoric, post-ending daze; personal proof, if an were needed, that this really is a wonderful piece of writing. For all the modern literary flourishes, this is very much a "classical" story. I can imagine another version of this as a contemporary mid-1900s film, saturated with bittersweet strings. Stories like that are usually larger than life. While there were aspects of this (like the abundance of mutual love at first sight and narrative coincidence, which felt out of place in an otherwise realistic setting), some of the best moments were more mundane. I was really impressed by how ordinary these people's lives were the further we got in. Two average (but far from unremarkable) human beings sharing a normal (but far from wasted) existence. The everyday attraction between them was powerfully written. It didn't need grand, sweeping gestures, but tiny moments. I'm going to trade in my man cards right now and admit I got caught up in it, putting down the book on no less than three occasions to run to my wife and tell her I loved her. The biggest advantage of the stream-of-consciousness writing style was its ability to jump to new places and years mid-sentence. And so, when Fos looks around and wonders "where have these years gone?", it really rings true. There are broader story aspects that can and should be nitpicked, but not now. Not while I'm still in the aforementioned euphoric, post-ending daze. It's not a perfect novel, but the simple fact is that even now, one hour after finishing, the final pages are still lingering. That's really quite something.

I really enjoyed the episode. Sean and Chris have a great chemistry on the subject, though I do hope Video Books Rodkin knows he's missed. Bonus points for: A. Glossing right over the subject of race, which could have easily taken over and dragged down the episode. B. Keeping the nitpicking in perspective. (The story really does have a lot going for it when you disregard, well, the story.) The respect for the author really shines through regardless. This also got me very excited to check out Kavalier & Clay. As previously mentioned, my favourite thing about the show so far has been its tendency to encourage extracurricular reading. Wonderful to hear you're shaking things up with an older selection in January. The Great Gatsby was literally next on my reading list. Very thoughtful of you!

Update: After about a month on GoodReads, it has, as expected, brought out the best in my obsessive experience-hoarding tendencies. It's amazing how the simple act of recording and ordering past and future activities can keep a hobby active. (Exhibit B: Fitocracy.) It's challenged me, in a passive and friendly way, to find more pockets of time to pursue it. In fact, I'd rank it equally alongside the Idle Book Club for reigniting my passion for reading. So hey, thanks! The recommendations algorithms I could give or take, but seeing friends with similar taste recommend something outside your radar really works wonders. http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/14125450-alastair

I own this actual, honest-to-god painting. I tell a lie. I own one quarter of this painting. One year ago, when Brandon Bird curated The JP Show, a few friends and I browsed the images from a bar. Someone dropped the question: "You know, we're technically adults. We could just buy this thing from the other side of the world." And so it came to pass that four grown, mostly sober men came to pay real human money for a lavish, homoerotic oil painting of Jeff Goldblum. Since our wives, girlfriends and families don't want anything to do with this sordid affair, it's turned into a game of hot potato. One day, we expect to find ourselves fighting in a treehouse, Bart and Millhouse style, the final victor earning the right to not take it home. Until then, we keep the tension evenly distributed with a regular ritual that's affectionately come to be known as The Goldblum Transfer. You'll recognise that fellow as Max Ides from Chris Remo's Molyjam game "Unbearable". (See also: Ruinationcast question #98.) We're just two swaps away from being able to compile a slideshow over The Lion King's "Circle of Life". All in all, it's been a pleasantly surreal footnote in our recent lives and I would gladly recommend the experience to anyone. And yes, it's a lot smaller than you picture it. Just like the Mona Lisa.

This thread sold me. Challenge accepted. Audio books (two words) are my default reading method these days (allowing roughly three bonus hours a day while driving, exercising and cleaning), but this is an interesting case of text that can probably only work as text. Turns out there's a lot of drama surrounding the recorded version of Infinite Jest. By all accounts it was a huge labour of love, and fans seem to have nothing but praise for the narration. However, the production team made the difficult compromise of leaving out the endnotes, instead having another voice actor cut in to refer listeners to the accompanying PDF. Probably necessary, but far from practical. In response to the feedback, endnotes are now being recorded. When they'll see the light of day and what format this will take is anyone's guess, but hats off to them for making the effort. Physical copy it is, then. And since a book like this is a capital-A Achivement, a paperback or kindle version would feel disingenuous. No, this has to be the heftiest tome of a hardcover available. If only there were a lavish, leather-bound, oversized, illustrated, slipcased edition out there. This needs to be a commitment, damn it.

As an exceptionally white Australian, my imagination would have curled up and whimpered at the idea of giving these characters real voices. Happily, this is one case where the audio book offers a clear - perhaps even unfair - advantage. Clarke Peters (The Wire, Treme) gives a wonderfully passionate reading, transforming the discography credits from intrusions to the cool off-hand asides they were intended to be, and slathering phrases like "a dream of cream" with buttery smoothness. I'm not sure if this brings out the natural "authenticity" of the text, or just artificially covers up the lack thereof. Either way, it made this a much more comfortable experience on a lot of levels. Having gone through a few fleeting-but-intense soul, funk and blaxploitation soundtrack benders, I admit to a tiny, pretentious buzz of thrill on recognising an occasional track title. It can be pretty alienating, yes, but it's a fitting 1:1 summation of how it must feel to live outside Archy and Nat's tiny, vinyl-insulated world. This book is an absolute pleasure from sentence to sentence. I agree with practically every criticism in this thread on some level, but there's a lot I'm willing to forgive in exchange for that next sweet fix of simile. It's an unambitious story ambitiously told, and I'm entirely fine with that. Again, the audio book narration does a lot of the heavy lifting here, so perhaps this is cheating. I'd still love to get a physical copy, if only for the pleasure of picking it off the shelf once a year and reliving one of those rich sentences at random. Judging by a lot of your comments, it seems I might feel otherwise if I'd read previous Chabon novels more fulfilling on a broader scale. My Amazon cart is well on its way to amending this, and I can't wait. Anything that makes this experience a retroactive disappointment should be pretty spectacular. On that note, I'd like to thank the Idle Book Club for all the extracurricular reading it's inspired. I expected to fall behind, so it's been a surprise to find each month's book leading to the purchase (and, even less likely, completion) of 1-2 others. Even the off-hand reference to Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy led to the far-too-late discovery of John le Carre. You've really got something special going here.

With the more recent exception of Botanicula, I'm not sure I've ever fallen in love with a game so quickly. The look, sound and feel just ooze joy and creativity from every pore. Even the tiny conveniences in pace (like quick fade-out restarts in place of overlong death animations or "try again?" menus) show a fundamental understanding of how to bring out the best in the genre. It's worth adding that single player and co-op essentially seem like different experiences. I've only ever played it with company, where it has a wonderful knack for bringing unreserved cheers and shouts out of everyone in the room. Single player would inevitably be more challenging and calculated. Both equally worthwhile, I'm sure, but I did leave with the impression co-op was The Way God Intended. Even if opportunities for local multiplayer are few and far between, this is easily a day 167 perch. I'm just so happy this game is allowed to exist.

For a while there we were headlining on Werewolf News. A handful of demo players at GDC seemed really impressed by that. Apparently it's the highbrow NPR of lycanthropic appreciation.

Retconned nostalgia got the better of me once again. (Sure, I never played FMV games, but I remember not playing them very fondly indeed.) Funding or not, I hope they manage to pull through this. Or failing that, regroup and secure the rights to Night Trap HD.

It's twelve months later, if you'll excuse the bump, and Ben's finally finished his game. Three points of interest to the Idle Thumbs Demographic: 1) One of the writers (that'd be me, then) is a huge Thumbs Podcast fan who snuck several references under the radar, including one hot scoop (alas, singular only) a Hyperspace Distorter (of The Toons' fame) and a healthy smidgeon of Jurassic Park winks.2) Tim Schafer contributed one line of dialogue. 3) Nearly every item in the game has a unique text description - even the mundane lamps and park benches - and it has no bearing on the gameplay whatsoever. This practice became affectionately known within the team as "Molyneuesque". This was a massive labour of love for Ben and Andrew, who spent a year in indie developer poverty to see this happen. Hope you all like it!

Congratulations, gentlemen. Another $100k and you can persuade Greg Kasavin to legally change his name to "Games" for a whole year.

Two hundred and ten shiny Jeff GoldBucks pledged. Thank you, gentlemen, for turning Monday into a Funday.