Fiction to Me

 I've seen so many advertisements about the movie "House of Gucky" coming out, that I had to look into the book it was based on. I am currently reading it.  It may as well be fiction for all I know. That lifestyle is so far out of my world, it might even be science fiction. Or how about Fiscal Fiction? 

I was never one to wear "names".  I could care less. I guess it does bring it all together for me to read about their horrible fighting and greed. One of the hardest parts for me is keeping the names straight. The book does give you a little family tree to keep track of who was married to whom and what children they had, etc.

Still, I find myself seething at the loopholes the rich and famous use/have to evade what the law requires from them. I've heard folks say "I wish I had his money!"  No, you don't.  Unless you are a Narcissist with no empathy for others - you don't want that lifestyle.  Even worse, if you are a person with morals and empathy - having that volume of money and wealth fall into your lap creates in you a monster.

Now, I am not a total idiot. I like a little extra money every now and again to smooth things over when appliances break down or the car does. It keeps me real. But the lifestyle of this family is beyond my imagination.  And, I am not a socialist. There may be certain aspects of the philosophy I can lean towards but I'm not sure there is any overall answer for anybody.

I picture a caveman bringing home a Gucky pocketbook for his mate that he has found. I suppose they would burn it or try to eat it. Yucky Gucky.

Currently Reading

 Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl by Harriet Jacobs.  Slow going. Busy doing other things. Sometimes when I get in the mood to read, I'll read and read and read. Only about 2 books at a time but I just finish one and go right to the next one.

The same happened with the New York Times and The Washington Post. I read them for about a year and then - nothing. I stopped. Didn't get back to it.

This story is hard. It is about her life. Sometimes I have to close the computer screen and either walk away or go to another web site like Facebook or Reddit to try to erase the image(s) that have entered into my mind.

I'd like to say we have progressed and it doesn't happen anymore. But it does. Somewhere somebody or somebody(s) are enslaved and suffering. At the hands of their fellow man.

I am not sure why I am attracted to books like this. I do like non-fiction and I do like autobiographies so I guess they fall perfectly into that category.  I don't want to be somebody who does not care about what happened (and still happens) to others. A story such as this reminds me of how hard it was for some.

And how easy I have it. It makes me appreciate my life a bit more. To scoff at what was bothering me yesterday or last week. Small potatoes!