Reading Is Fun, Even If It Occasionally Makes The Brain Hurt

I've been doing quite a bit more reading than writing lately, which is, over the long haul, the path to Hell for a writer. In mitigation of my sloth, I did write a poem end of last week. It may have even not sucked. I've also been having increasingly coherent ideas for a novel. Writing a novel would be a, well, novel idea for me; I can't seem to find the motivation to sit down long enougn to write a 25 to 200 word poem.
Alright, here's some of what I've been reading lately:

Currently:
Oh The Glory Of It All - Sean Wilsey. I almost hate to admit that I'm enthralled by this book. As exceptionally narcissistic (even for a biography) as it is, there are glittering moments when it is obvious that Wilsey was an unwitting product of his environment, willing to subvert the influence of priviledge and anarchy that surrounded him, but lacking in the tools to do so. I am eager to finish, which is unusual: I usually hate to see a good book end.

Affluenza: The All-Consuming Epedemic - John De Graff, David Wann & Thomas H. Naylor. Comparing rampant American consumption with a medical disease isn't really a literary device: it's scarily accurate. The three wise men who researched and wrote this book make a case convincing enough that I feel some significant guilt over the waste that I help generate. Included is the waste of my energies and time. This is proving to be an appropriate read before Christmas.

Next post: highlights of past reads. And maybe something more original.