For some reason, self is still reading this book. She is down to the last pages. It’s terrible. What self means is: Filkins doesn’t have any dead spots in his book (Only, dead people. BWAH. HA. HA)
Before this, she was tempted to blog about a dozen times. Each time she told herself: At this rate, you’ll be blogging for every page. Every page. You’ll be on a plane to Los Angeles, booksigning even, and you’ll be writing your 37th post on The Forever War. Woman, get a grip!
Okay, less than 50 pages to go. Which means, only about a dozen more posts on Iraq and IEDs and marines shooting at people and Iraqis hating Americans and sectarian violence and . . .
Patience, people! The end is slowly approaching!
Here’s the passage that self simply couldn’t resist posting:
“Can you imagine that anyone would ever leave his home, for any reason?” Hanoon said, waving a cigarette as he spoke. “Only bad people and gypsies live in tents. What can you say about women having to live here?”
As Hanoon “prepared to leave his ancestral home . . . not a single one of his . . . neighbors stopped by to say goodbye.”
And that is all.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.
