davinci notes

the imposium has officially returned from its summer hiatus.  we’re rested and relaxed.  we’re mentally and physically rejuvenated.  we’re even completely caught up on our summer reading.  sorta.  see, although we breezed through steinbeck’s of mice and men during our four-week stint at sleep-away camp and slowly but surely made our way through morrison’s beloved between barista shifts, dan brown’s most popular – cough/barf – novel proved just a little too cerebral for us.  lucky, there are tools out there to turn a literary masterpiece like mr brown’s into a much more pedestrian read.  like this one:

i kid, of course, but reading the davinci code is like submitting your intellect to four-hundred-plus pages of tee-ball, except that you’ll expend a lot more energy trying to understand why the author keeps reminding you that he’s dressed his hero in a tweed blazer than it does to swing a bat at an unmoving object and run on contact.  this book is the nickelback boxed set of novels except most people who’ve bought a nickelback album don’t leave its liner notes on their night and/or coffee table as a gross public declaration of music fandom.

still, you’d have to assume that it’s just a matter of time before the davinci code becomes required reading of some sort.  i mean, depending on who you ask, the davinci code has sold forty or fifty-million copies (which, if you’re keeping track, eclipses sales of the book i began writing in two-thousand-four by, again, depending on who you ask, roughly forty or fifty-million copies) and sheer present-day economics should dictate that schools ask their students to read books that most of their families already own.

i’m just saying.