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Dangerous Books

Jane and I went to Will's house on Wednesday, and had good conversation and fun listenings-to of British comedy and a nice meal.

While Jane and Will were having a long and complicated discussion about the merits of different expansion packs for Magic: the Gathering, which I know little to nothing about, I rummaged through Will's bookshelf (bookshelf rummaging is an underrated sport, in my opinion) and found a Harlan Ellison book.

I started reading it and was about four pages into the introduction before I realized I shouldn't have been reading this particular Ellision at this particular time. I read through the intro and the whole first story, and then managed to put it down and not take it home with me. I was very proud of myself.

Taking home Angry Candy in that kind of mood would have been the book equivalent of taking home a lost, rabid puppy and then waving my hand in front of its face.