WD40ian Literature

[This post is cross-posted between this site and from russia with blog, my primary blog through June 2006]

Those of you who know me well, or who have been following my adventures in the blogosphere for a lengthy amount of time, will probably have noticed that I have a tendancy to bring up WD40 periodically and inexplicably. Well, sorry to disappoint, but you won't get an explanation from me today. In fact, as the 65+ pages of the as yet unfinished WD40 story are locked in the harddrive of a dead computer from which I may never recover them, it may very well be that you will never know what I'm talking about. Let's just say that it refers to an extremely bizarre period in my life which began almost exactly eleven years ago. Ever since, anything which yields a poignant reminder to that time has inevitably been described by me as "WD40ian."

Some WD40ian things:

ancient Egypt

Arthurian Britain

Waycross, GA

Stars, by Hum

Ghost World

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

The other day, my coworkers and I were discussing taxes, and Brooke said, "What's that form called that you get from your employer? All I can think of right now is 'WD40,' but I know that's not right." (Melissa, let's just say that I totally thought of you right then!) While we may have come down to Earth with Britt piping up with, "W-2!" from the other room, I feel I should bring this up, as Brooke is the person who provided me with the item most recently described be me as WD40ian: A Trip To The Stars by Nicholas Christopher.

My apologies to those of you who don't know what I mean when I say WD40ian, but that's simply the best way for me to describe A Trip To The Stars. Let's just say that the book is incredibly magical, although set in the mundane real world of the 1960s-1970s. The author all but beats you over the head with star/space-related imagery, although I for one utterly love that kind of stuff. There's a pyramid of significance, although it's not Egyptian, and there are so many coincidences that you, as the reader, will find yourself wanting to scream at the characters, "Dammit - why can't you see that it's a sign?!"

Over the past few years I have found myself developing an overly fatalistic view of life (which I must say has solidified over the past few months), and even though we never mentioned it back in the day, WD40 was pretty fatalistic. And well, A Trip To The Stars could also be summed up as a fantastical lesson in fatalism. If that intrigues you, get yourself a copy. Otherwise, well, I didn't want you on my planet anyway.