If nothing cannot be
then how did it
come to be the recipe
for the 'Big Bang'?

finished Life of Pi while stewing in the tub for four hours...since i have a penchant for multi-tasking, problems arise...i am forced to turn the page with my nose as i brush my teeth, soap, and even shave...that millions of my fellow countrymen have read this book makes me somewhat proud to be Canadian...there is hope...i am sure many will wonder whether the story is true...i care not...what i experienced was a pause...what i mean by 'pause' is a departure from the banal and mundane nature of tedious existence...i sloughed off my CNN-induced worldliness and dreamily adopted a spiritual reclamation of Nature...in all (or as many as i could gather) its vagaries...the author, Yann Martel, seems to be a combination of a simplified Salman Rushdie and a mid-Siddarthan Herman Hesse...the protagonist is a bloody genius which is always impressive, and the story didactic...i learned a great deal about zoology...provided the author isn't full of shit...which is entirely possible...seeing as i'm full of shit whenever i write...not always, but i have a strange proclivity for bull-shitting in the midst of ornamental verbiage...the author does achieve what every author must if there work is to be credible...omnipotence...Martel does not appear to be fallible under casual scrutiny...he prefaces the work by discrediting his own endeavours, placing the onus on his narrator to establish a Sartrean co-creational relationship with the reader...in other words...he sure fooled me....