I've had several discussions with co-workers about the new HBO phenom, Big Love. It seems I am not the only one is slightly obsessed with this show. More and more of my co-workers are talking about the polygamy dynamic and general unease this show brings.
But it is my friend Dawn who takes the cake. She called me yesterday and said she may be obsessed with Mormons. This, obviously, cracked me up. She has frequently suggested that I read Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith by Jon Krakauer.
Side note: I also highly recommend Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mount Everest Disaster by Krakauer. He is a masterful storyteller and generally just a damn good writer. As a rabid fan of fiction, I'm always impressed by a nonfiction account that reads like a good fiction novel. Krakauer is one of few writers who can pull off such a feat. Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer is another example. But I digress.
I quickly arranged an intervention involving our favorite Tawainese restaurant and loads of peanut sauce. My only fear is that her obsession will rub off on me and I'll become equally enamoured.
Truthfully, I think my addiction stems from the general firmness of Bill Paxton's ass, but that's another story.
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