Well, I finally finished Rogue Warrior by Richard Marcinko, and it was pretty good. Essentially, it's Marcinko's autobiography, from working-class New Jersey kid to his rise through the Navy to found both SEAL Team Six (an elite counterterrorism unit) and Red Cell (a covert unit designed to exploit U.S. military security weaknesses in an effort to fix said weaknesses before someone else exploits them). It was a pretty interesting book. Marcinko started with the Navy in the late '50s, was a member of the Underwater Demolition Team and later the SEALs, spent a couple tours in 'Nam, was an intelligence attaché in Cambodia, and did a whole bunch of other stuff, including spend time in federal prison for conspiracy. The man is a hardass, and he's not afraid to tell you how much of a hardass he is.
To class up the L a little bit, I started reading Dubliners by James Joyce, which is a collection of short stories written by Joyce between ages 22 and 25 (the ages when I was, for some reason, in law school). I read A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man in high school English class, and I don't remember anything about it other than it was touted as an example of "stream of consciousness" writing. Other than that, all I know about Joyce is that (a) he is Irish, and (b) Ulysses is considered by many to be the best novel ever written. Therefore, Dubliners can only fail to meet my expectations.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
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