I tell you why the goat is grumpy

You may never find out.  Ask the monsters - I am just quoting.

The real topic of today is a new concept in literature review:  the lightening review.  How few words can I use to describe the pile of birthday books I have recently inhaled.

Pratchett, Snuff

• Unusually lacking subtlety -  feels like the goodbye Discworld book.

Wodehouse, The girl in the blue dress

• Sadly lacking in pigs, approximately 3% of the chuckle of, say, Empress of Blandings.

Lewis and Uhlmann, The Marmalade Files

• Fun to play spot the pollie - Canberra must be chockers with  narcissistic maniacs trying to resist the temptation to reach for their libel lawyers.

Eugenides, The Marriage Plot

• Romance and literary theory - in theory intoxicating, in practice somewhat tedious, possibly because it  gave me flashbacks to hanging around semiotics lectures that I considered to be a pile of pigs earwax.*

Fforde, The woman who died a lot

• Fake bod for a day, destiny aware teenagers, smite protection, terrific and joyous.

Ackroyd, Foundation, Volume 1

• History at its least stuffy - who knew the Iron Age was so interesting.  I am only up to the fall of the Romans so a lot of kingery to come, I assume. 

"There must be grumpy goats out of here...", another mote drifts by and that is it for the day.

* Did I ever tell you about the time, quite early in my career when I attended a work function with a senior manager held by some clients?  Well, there we were, drinking our "cocktails" (= indifferent wine in nasty glasses), and, during a lull in conversation, I decided to launch into a tirade on the utter pointlessness of studying literary theory in academia, the drain on the world's resources, etc - full rant, 5 minutes worth.  Then my esteemed senior manager turned to me and said, "Did you know what I did my PhD thesis in?"  

You don't need one to guess, do you people?