In an attempt to hijack my Christmas with feelings of nausea, sore throat, headache, and slight fever, my body somehow convinced itself to get sick. Oh, it’s not full blown, but I’ve got that old familiar feeling that a tiny band of microscopic invaders is just off of Trinidad. Once they reach the New World, well, it’s all over for the natives.
So I’m feeling a bit depressed at the prospect. Not of getting sick, mind you–that’s a constant care we humans must endure throughout our busy lives. No, I’m depressed at the thought that I may have to spend all of Christmas Even and part of Christmas morning sick…on a plane at 35,000 feet. I will not like that one bit, though I can assure you, I bet anyone who sits beside me will likely be just as struck by the just-invented maxim as I am that to fly well is at best a test to be endured–to fly ill is like being squeezed through a Play-Doh spaghetti mold whilst simultaneously having your body operated upon by Oompa-Loompas with no medical training. Or, whatever metaphysical equivalent you find better suits your persona. Either way, a kind of 24-hour undead existence no doubt awaits me as soon as I enter the airport terminal.
Perhaps with a bit of aspirin and orange juice I might fight off the invasion.
Speaking of aspirin (astin), I just finished the seventh and last book in the Dark Tower Cycle by Stephen King. Don’t worry if you don’t get the aspirin reference; just read the series). The book was, as is usual in Stephen King products, a yard and a half in width, about a fourth of which could have easily been cut with no discernible loss to the story. The major flaw with this book was the ending, which, sad to say, did not do justice to the previous entries in the series. It’s not that I wasn’t pleased with the ending (though I wasn’t), it was just so damned convenient. King took the concept of deus ex machina and made some decently clever metafiction out of it in the previous book, Song of Susannah. Here, he caresses deus ex machina, then crumples it up and stomps on it, in an attempt to wrangle every bit of self-conscious cleverness out of it as he can.
It’s not a pretty sight.
Further, his conclusion of main character Roland’s quest is nothing short of unimaginative. Oh, it’s endlessly clever, with his constant references to wheels, cycles, returns and ka being a regenerative as well as forcible destiny. But it’s also stupid, rendering the entire cycle useless. The killing off of vital characters was bold, but needless, and took a due amount of joy from the book’s final fourth.
SPOILERS BELOW: Highlight to read.

King really outdid himself with the creation of Jake, Eddie, and Oy. To dispatch them like that was unnecessarily cruel and stung too obviously of the need to generate heartfelt moments that nonetheless felt contrived and manipulative. And again, their deaths ultimately reveal that what Roland finds at the top of the Tower–his curse to relive everything over and over and over–is nothing more than an author’s desperation to find a way to end the series without really ending it. If it is to be done, let it be done. Otherwise, the work must go on. And Mordred proved to be a useless element in the end. His presence did nothing to advance the plot or give insight into the characters, and his death was nothing short of disappointing–three lousy, short paragraphs after all that waiting and plotting!!? King, you know better than this.

Ultimately, I have to give props to King for keeping me engaged throughout most of the entire series. The decline of the plot, given its epic scope, was disappointing, especially after the brilliance of Drawing of the Three and Wizard and Glass.
As for King’s supposed retirement, I will believe it when I see it. I hope, like Michael Jordan, he returns after a couple years. He’s not a great writer, but he is a fun writer.
I didn’t put the complete kibosh on Christmas shopping, although technically I only have two more people to shop for. The problem is, what do you get someone who’s going to Iraq in less than a month and someone who just came back from a six month stay in Iraq? I sure don’t know. Any ideas? It never hurts to ask.
Tonight I go film the kiddies from the poor neighbourhoods receiving gifts at my church, then I belive I’ll come back, grab an orange juice, and go to bed early. Or perhaps I’ll watch a movie. Anything to get my mind off of impending Christmas sickness.
Merry viral infection to you too.