Self-Help Review:
Inspiration: Your Ultimate Calling
2006
By Dr. Wayne W. Dyer
This book was, for the span of a few months, the biggest joke in the library to me. Every time I would see it I would hold it up and show it to people and laugh my ass off. The picture on the cover of the book seemed to represent everything that turned me off about the Self-Help genre: The "enlightened guru," the blue waves in the background, that fucking butterfly. After the laughter I would ask myself, "How seriously do people take this shit?"
Apparently, the answer to that is: VERY. This man is exceedingly wealthy, and even though he encourages the reader to forget about money and get back in touch with our creator, he also frequently mentions his home in Maui, how money has somehow always found it's way to him, how he purchased a brand new car for someone who works for him, and he actually encourages the reader at one point to buy a horse as a way of feeling good about life. Throughout the book he hammers away at the idea that we need to destroy ego (which he constantly says is an acronym for "edging God out"), yet his own ego is so enormous that he throws in the reader's face what a great guy he is on practically every other page. There are pages and pages of his good deeds, and I can safely say that half of the book is dedicated to what a great guy Dr. Wayne W. Dyer is.
In addition to the annoying "edging God out" acronym, he also says that feeling good is akin to feeling "God," and there are several occasions of him mentioning something being or feeling "good" and then right next to it having "God" in parenthesis, as if we didn't get the point already.
To feel good (God), we need to eliminate harmful things from our lives, such as violent movies and music. In one chapter he rails against advertisers as being a negative influence on our lives, yet he recommends several books which are conveniently available through his publisher. These books aren't just the ones mentioned in ads at the back of the book...they are actually in the text itself, along with web addresses. If you're seeking enlightenment, you don't need someone trying to sell you something in the middle of a spiritual moment. Imagine floating up towards the heavens and some asshole screaming "DRINK SPRITE!!!!" in your ears right before you reach the clouds, and that's the feeling you get with these little ads interspersed in the text.
If it sounds like I read this book simply to bash it, you're half right. I will admit that there were some good points in the book, and interesting outlooks to take on life. For example, I really liked the idea of viewing your life and everything that has happened in it as a plan that you and God came up with before your birth. It gets you out of the victim mind set and thinking that no matter how shitty things have been, there has been a reason for all of it and it has been a necessary step toward your development. He also has good quotes sprinkled throughout the book, my favorite being this one by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: "If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility." He also has several techniques for monitoring your thoughts for "negative energy," but I have seen these ideas elsewhere, and without the fruitiness that Wayne feels the need to inject into them. Nonetheless, thinking about thinking is always a great thing, and a necessary skill for anyone trying to better themselves.
One of the funniest things in this book are his suggestions for affirmations. I have actually read the book "What To Say When You Talk To Yourself," by Shad Helmstetter, which deals exclusively with affirmations, and I know how they work and how they don't work. The main idea is, in order for an affirmation to have any kind of effect whatsoever, it has to both be in the present tense, and also NOT CONTAIN A NEGATIVE. You can't say "I will not feel anxiety in the future" because the future is a vague concept and the brain automatically discounts negatives. So what you're actually telling your brain is "I will feel anxiety..." The correct way to do an affirmation is "I feel calm and relaxed all the time" or something to that extent. In the present and positive. With that in mind, check out Wayne's groovy affirmation for sickness:
"I won't attract any further illness to my life. I'll never allow myself to feel old, feeble, or frail; and I refuse to allow Alzheimer's, cancer, or any other infirmity into my life. I don't vibrate to frequencies that are designed to keep me from being in-Spirit."
With what I know about affirmations, what Wayne is telling you to tell your brain is the following:
"I...attract...illness to my life. I...allow myself to feel old, feeble, or frail; I...allow Alzheimer's, cancer, or any other infirmity into my life. I...vibrate to frequencies that are designed to keep me from being in-Spirit."
Thanks for the cancer, Dr. Dickhead. Hope you can sell off some of your dolphins to pay my medical bills.
But wait, Wayne doesn't work that way. Even though he bought a new car for someone who works for him, he won't chip in the cash to buy a home for his fucking mentor, who had a crippling stroke and desperately needs a home. Read the Chapter 9 story about Ram Dass, who was apparently an incredible, inspirational man. Wayne pours gallon after gallon of praise on this man, making sure that each and every one of us understands his importance in the world, then proceeds to solicit money from the reader to buy Ram Dass a home in Maui! So let me get this straight...Dr. Wayne W. Dyer makes millions upon millions of dollars, owns a home in Maui, makes it a point to tell the reader that he has never had an issue with money and that it always just seems to fall into his hands, mentions celebrities handing him thousand dollar checks for no reason, yet he has the audacity to beg the reader for cash to buy a home for his hero? Listen Wayne. People are buying your books because they can't afford real psychiatric care. They don't have the thousands of dollars to dump into someone to sit there and listen to their problems and help them along, so they come to people like you, and hope that maybe you can give them some advice to take the pain out of their lives. You may hobnob with scores of celebs, but your readership is made up primarily of ordinary, middle class folks...you know, the kinds of people who can't just up and buy a fucking horse so they can feel good. You have a lot of nerve asking these people for cash to buy YOUR mentor a home. You're scum, Wayne.
However, he did clean up the burger and fries that some kid accidentally dropped on the floor at McDonalds, so he's a good example for his kids. No, I'm not making that up and yes, that is one of his examples of how great and enlightened he is.
That said, I did send in a purchase for his lovely CD set, "How To Be A No-Limit Person." I hear that this, "Your Erroneous Zones," and "Pulling Your Own Strings" are practical, good books with advice that will help you immensely to get over your own shit. A contradiction? Maybe, but fuck it.
I would like to end this with a quote from an author who stands directly opposite Dyer, and who's philosophy I both agree and disagree with. It's from "Anthem," by Ayn Rand, an author who has written some of the most hate-filled works I have ever laid eyes on. Sometimes she's way off the mark in her assumptions, but other times, she hits them dead-on. Here's the quote:
"And here, over the portals of my fort, I shall cut in the stone the word which is to be my beacon and my banner. The word which will not die, should we all perish in battle. The word which can never die on this earth, for it is the heart of it and the meaning and the glory. The sacred word: EGO."
As much as he rails against it in his book, as much as he points to it as being the one thing that we need to destroy in order to reach true inspiration, deep in his own heart, Dr. Wayne W. Dyer screams; "I concur."
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Self-Help Review 1: All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten.
Self-Help Review:
All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten
1986
By Robert Fulghum
I promised to kick off my Self-Help Review with Wayne Dyer's "Inspiration, Your Ultimate Calling," but as it turned out, two library patrons decided that they needed a dash of inspiration in their lives, and checked out our two copies. Set back, I decided to request a copy from another library and in the meantime quickly go through another book. I had mentioned "All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten" as one of the questionable books that I would be reading, and to my delight, the library had a copy. Since I wanted to feel better about not finishing college, I grabbed it. For years I have heard of Fulghum's book, and have even seen posters with the "wisdom" of his opus enclosed in glass and hung in clinics, schools, and various other spots in need of homey cosiness. The book was shelved in an area of the library just before the Self-Help section, and when I checked it out I expected it to be a Self-Help book. As it turns out, it is so different from what I expected that I hesitate to even include it on this review site.
The book starts off with a letter from the author to YOU. He talks about why the book was written and that many of the stories have been embellished to be more interesting and that you're just going to have to deal with it. Not a bad introduction, admittedly, but what follows makes me regret undertaking this endeavor.
The famous chapter, the one that the book is named after, is a whopping four pages long. I'm being generous by saying "four pages" because it's really more like three, and actually two if it were single-spaced and with slightly smaller type. There are sixteen of these sandbox "gems," some cute, some retarded, some just bad advice. I'm sure some diabetics would disagree with "Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you." I come from a bloodline where diabetes is almost a guarantee, and if I drink milk my stomach snarls and my ass belches out the kind of nauseating fumes that you wouldn't wish on someone who raped your grandma, so that little nugget of wisdom doesn't exactly work for me. Also, "Take a nap every afternoon" is the active encouragement of sloth, a biblical sin. So by following some of these rules, you might end up roasting in hell for all eternity. Don't say I didn't warn you. The last rule that I'll tear apart is "Share everything." Sorry, but when I get married, I'm not going to let everyone take turns banging my wife, and I have no intention of banging Mr. Fulghum's wife, either.
What's in the rest of the book? Many, many short stories. The maximum length is around four to five pages, and the vast majority are three. The common theme is taking memories the author has, stuffing as much importance into the little things as possible, and then presenting them as a gift to the reader, which you can either take or leave. Here are some ideas the author has to make the world a better place:
Drop a bomb of crayolas over countries on the verge of war, since everyone finds coloring irresistible.
Stop handing out shitty gifts at potlucks.
Instead of being tidy and neat, spend just one week polishing a stick, and that will be the only job you'll need to finish for the rest of your life. I'm not making this up.
We should spell "hors d'oeuvres" this way: "orderves."
Everything you could ever wish to know about a person you can discover by snooping around their bathroom.
Weeds are flowers.
Chicken-fried steak will give you a sense of well-being, and the best place to get one is at Maud Owens' Cafe in Payette, Idaho.
Then there are stories which as supposed to put our lives into perspective, and to keep alive the wonder of a child within us. The entire book is laced with aging, baby boomer bullshit humor. I don't give a rat's ass how many of our parents were boomers...they were the shitty generation, and as much as they'd like to take credit for everything good in the country and world, they still fail to earn my respect or make me laugh. I'm talking about the generation as a whole, not individual people. I love my mama just as much as I love yours.
It's also a poorly written book, which desperately needed an editor's touch to clean it up. Don't give me crap about the grammar in my blog...anyone who says "unless you can create, don't criticize" is copping out with the oldest and lamest excuse out there. This book is supposed to help people, and it helps if your grammar isn't shitty.
What's good about it? Well, he does mention Joyce's "Finnegans Wake" in the last chapter and pays tribute to it by ending in mid-sentence, but he also knows jack shit about FW, so his tribute is only half-assed. I appreciate his praising of chicken-fried steak, and yes, one chapter actually touched me. It was one of those chapters that is so obviously trying to tug at your heart, like many of the others, but because I could actually relate to the situation described, it worked. Like that old saying goes...if you throw enough shit against the wall, some of it is bound to stick. The best thing I can say about this book is that it's a very quick read. I went through half of it solely on fifteen minute breaks at work, and finished the rest over an hour.
Just for the record, here's a list of lessons that I learned in Kindergarten, and which continue to do me good to this day:
If you eat your boogers, worms will grow in your stomach.
Stay away from the "pee pee boy."
Johnny Appleseed, Pecos Bill, and Paul Bunyon are the greatest heroes a boy could look up to, because they taught us the basics on how to be a man. How's that? Plant your seed far and wide, ride a few cyclones, and when you're finished go around destroying nature with a big blue beautiful Babe by your side.
If you walk around in the Big Kids side of the school, everyone will think you're a bad-ass and respect you more.
Ditch the slides and go for the swing.
It's always OK to laugh at dumb kids for doing dumb things.
Those Chow Mein Noodle haystacks are fucking awesome, and will continue to be fucking awesome till the day you die.
Don't throw your box of milk at someone, or you'll get into trouble.
If you have a really cool dinosaur book, girls will want to be around you.
My verdict? If you like sentimental crap and never mentally grew past age 5, you'll love it.
All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten
1986
By Robert Fulghum
I promised to kick off my Self-Help Review with Wayne Dyer's "Inspiration, Your Ultimate Calling," but as it turned out, two library patrons decided that they needed a dash of inspiration in their lives, and checked out our two copies. Set back, I decided to request a copy from another library and in the meantime quickly go through another book. I had mentioned "All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten" as one of the questionable books that I would be reading, and to my delight, the library had a copy. Since I wanted to feel better about not finishing college, I grabbed it. For years I have heard of Fulghum's book, and have even seen posters with the "wisdom" of his opus enclosed in glass and hung in clinics, schools, and various other spots in need of homey cosiness. The book was shelved in an area of the library just before the Self-Help section, and when I checked it out I expected it to be a Self-Help book. As it turns out, it is so different from what I expected that I hesitate to even include it on this review site.
The book starts off with a letter from the author to YOU. He talks about why the book was written and that many of the stories have been embellished to be more interesting and that you're just going to have to deal with it. Not a bad introduction, admittedly, but what follows makes me regret undertaking this endeavor.
The famous chapter, the one that the book is named after, is a whopping four pages long. I'm being generous by saying "four pages" because it's really more like three, and actually two if it were single-spaced and with slightly smaller type. There are sixteen of these sandbox "gems," some cute, some retarded, some just bad advice. I'm sure some diabetics would disagree with "Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you." I come from a bloodline where diabetes is almost a guarantee, and if I drink milk my stomach snarls and my ass belches out the kind of nauseating fumes that you wouldn't wish on someone who raped your grandma, so that little nugget of wisdom doesn't exactly work for me. Also, "Take a nap every afternoon" is the active encouragement of sloth, a biblical sin. So by following some of these rules, you might end up roasting in hell for all eternity. Don't say I didn't warn you. The last rule that I'll tear apart is "Share everything." Sorry, but when I get married, I'm not going to let everyone take turns banging my wife, and I have no intention of banging Mr. Fulghum's wife, either.
What's in the rest of the book? Many, many short stories. The maximum length is around four to five pages, and the vast majority are three. The common theme is taking memories the author has, stuffing as much importance into the little things as possible, and then presenting them as a gift to the reader, which you can either take or leave. Here are some ideas the author has to make the world a better place:
Drop a bomb of crayolas over countries on the verge of war, since everyone finds coloring irresistible.
Stop handing out shitty gifts at potlucks.
Instead of being tidy and neat, spend just one week polishing a stick, and that will be the only job you'll need to finish for the rest of your life. I'm not making this up.
We should spell "hors d'oeuvres" this way: "orderves."
Everything you could ever wish to know about a person you can discover by snooping around their bathroom.
Weeds are flowers.
Chicken-fried steak will give you a sense of well-being, and the best place to get one is at Maud Owens' Cafe in Payette, Idaho.
Then there are stories which as supposed to put our lives into perspective, and to keep alive the wonder of a child within us. The entire book is laced with aging, baby boomer bullshit humor. I don't give a rat's ass how many of our parents were boomers...they were the shitty generation, and as much as they'd like to take credit for everything good in the country and world, they still fail to earn my respect or make me laugh. I'm talking about the generation as a whole, not individual people. I love my mama just as much as I love yours.
It's also a poorly written book, which desperately needed an editor's touch to clean it up. Don't give me crap about the grammar in my blog...anyone who says "unless you can create, don't criticize" is copping out with the oldest and lamest excuse out there. This book is supposed to help people, and it helps if your grammar isn't shitty.
What's good about it? Well, he does mention Joyce's "Finnegans Wake" in the last chapter and pays tribute to it by ending in mid-sentence, but he also knows jack shit about FW, so his tribute is only half-assed. I appreciate his praising of chicken-fried steak, and yes, one chapter actually touched me. It was one of those chapters that is so obviously trying to tug at your heart, like many of the others, but because I could actually relate to the situation described, it worked. Like that old saying goes...if you throw enough shit against the wall, some of it is bound to stick. The best thing I can say about this book is that it's a very quick read. I went through half of it solely on fifteen minute breaks at work, and finished the rest over an hour.
Just for the record, here's a list of lessons that I learned in Kindergarten, and which continue to do me good to this day:
If you eat your boogers, worms will grow in your stomach.
Stay away from the "pee pee boy."
Johnny Appleseed, Pecos Bill, and Paul Bunyon are the greatest heroes a boy could look up to, because they taught us the basics on how to be a man. How's that? Plant your seed far and wide, ride a few cyclones, and when you're finished go around destroying nature with a big blue beautiful Babe by your side.
If you walk around in the Big Kids side of the school, everyone will think you're a bad-ass and respect you more.
Ditch the slides and go for the swing.
It's always OK to laugh at dumb kids for doing dumb things.
Those Chow Mein Noodle haystacks are fucking awesome, and will continue to be fucking awesome till the day you die.
Don't throw your box of milk at someone, or you'll get into trouble.
If you have a really cool dinosaur book, girls will want to be around you.
My verdict? If you like sentimental crap and never mentally grew past age 5, you'll love it.
Monday, January 15, 2007
An Introduction.
We are invincible. We are in control of the world. The prize is right in front of our eyes, we only have to claim it. We are so great, in fact, that we were Time Magazine's "Person Of The Year" for 2006. We own the marketplace. Everything we want is at our fingertips. Filters no longer exist, and anything we desire we can acquire, from vintage lunch boxes to rare Japanese cartoon dildos. Truly, there is nothing that we cannot do.
So why are so many of us fucked-up, needy, pill-popping, depressed, frowny sons-of-bitches?
Hard labor will always exist, but here in the States, the vast majority of people work in offices, at computers, or from home. We have an overabundance of free time on our hands, time that can ideally lead to doing things for us, like reading, watching a movie, or knitting. Instead, the vast majority of Americans sit around and think about how miserable they are, and watch TV shows that reiterate how shitty life is. Daytime talk shows more often than not show fucked-up people leading fucked-up lives, or how crappy things are in certain areas of the world. After that the news comes on, which is story after story of crime, sadness, foods that will kill you, people embarrassing themselves, and a bear that wandered into a hot tub. Then at night we have reality shows which display just how low a person will go to possibly win some cash, sitcoms with sarcastic assholes as the "loveable" main characters, or competitions where the more a person is degraded or told that they suck, the more people are entertained by it.
Then, after some unfunny late night talk shows, the airwaves are handed over to people who take it upon themselves to undo the damage created by the previous several hours of television viewing. These brave souls are the prophets of the Frowny Generation. They are The Self-Help Gurus.
Tony Robbins, Wayne Dyer, Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura, Stephen Covey...they are here to help you awaken the giants within, build seven (or is it eight?) habits to make you successful, create changing days in your life, be a no-limit person, and stop doing those stupid things which are screwing up your life and everyone else's. They know the answers, and they have the millions of dollars in sales to back it up. According to my favorite questionable source on the Internet, Wikipedia, the self-help market was worth $8.5 billion dollars in 2003, and by next year (2008) it is estimated to be worth over $11 billion.
The Self-Help Marketplace is the psychological equivalent to the romance novel. People who lack romance seek it in a book, and likewise, people who refuse (rightfully, I might add) psychiatric help, seek it in the Self-Help movement. And just like the romance novel, the Self-Help book is not something entirely new. Though there is an explosion of interest that constantly grows each year, there are predecessors to it starting with Ben Franklin's classic "Poor Richard's Almanac." The first real Self-Help book was written by a man with the delightful name Samuel Smiles, and it was titled..."Self-Help." (1859) I do not know how many copies it sold, or if it was a sensation upon release, but according to my "source," it was the first. Smiles wrote many more books, which apparently showcased Victorian values and emphasized individual achievement, for which Smiles was criticized by his contemporaries. Since that time we have had Alcoholics Anonymous (1935) to help people kick their liquor habit, Napoleon Hill to teach people how to get rich with their minds (1937), and Dale Carnegie to teach people how to expand their social circles and influence those in it (1936).
The main question here is...if these books have been around for decades, and hold the secrets to being a rich, happy, healthy person, why are so many people broke, miserable, and out-of-shape? My guess is that either these books do not work, or people are too lazy to apply the lessons taught in them. Much of what is covered in these books is of questionable scientific merit, and a lot of research into them say that the success rate is probably more of a placebo effect than anything else.
Can these books be trusted, then? Where can we find reliable reviews to help us sort out the empowering from the bullshit?
This, dear reader, is where I come in.
I am a voracious reader, and constantly stuff my mind with as much information as possible. For years I have read some of the deepest, most intellectually challenging books ever written (well, maybe just a couple of them). Well, it's time to take a break from all that. It's time for me to help YOU. Enough with The Canon. It's time for me to go slumming with Dr. Phil, find out why He's Just Not That Into You, and seek out that fucker Who Moved My Cheese.
I will be reading it all...the classics (How To Win Friends And Influence People, Think And Grow Rich, The AA "Big Book", The Strangest Secret, Psycho-Cybernetics), the questionable (I'm OK You're OK, Dianetics, All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten) and the fashionable (Awaken The Giant Within, Rich Dad Poor Dad, The Purpose Driven Life, Men Are From Mars Women Are From Venus). By the end of this experiment I will either be a fulfilled, wealthy, powerful man with a wife who blows me five times a day, or I'll need years of psychiatric help to undo the damage. Either way, I'm sure it'll be entertaining for YOU, the reader.
Rather than start at the beginning, I will be starting this experiment with the most embarrassing book I've ever seen. A book which I will carry around and read everywhere I go, and will undoubtedly lead to snickers from bystanders and people in general thinking I'm a fruity bastard. It is this book:
After that, let me know what you want me to read. Depending on the book, I may spend more time with some over others, and actually try to apply the "techniques" they require. One book promises fulfillment after a week...I will read that one and if I am not totally satisfied with life at the end of that week, I will let you know that the author was a lying, manipulative cocksucker who should have his balls wrapped in barbed wire.
Wish me luck, and help me help you with your recommendations!
So why are so many of us fucked-up, needy, pill-popping, depressed, frowny sons-of-bitches?
Hard labor will always exist, but here in the States, the vast majority of people work in offices, at computers, or from home. We have an overabundance of free time on our hands, time that can ideally lead to doing things for us, like reading, watching a movie, or knitting. Instead, the vast majority of Americans sit around and think about how miserable they are, and watch TV shows that reiterate how shitty life is. Daytime talk shows more often than not show fucked-up people leading fucked-up lives, or how crappy things are in certain areas of the world. After that the news comes on, which is story after story of crime, sadness, foods that will kill you, people embarrassing themselves, and a bear that wandered into a hot tub. Then at night we have reality shows which display just how low a person will go to possibly win some cash, sitcoms with sarcastic assholes as the "loveable" main characters, or competitions where the more a person is degraded or told that they suck, the more people are entertained by it.
Then, after some unfunny late night talk shows, the airwaves are handed over to people who take it upon themselves to undo the damage created by the previous several hours of television viewing. These brave souls are the prophets of the Frowny Generation. They are The Self-Help Gurus.
Tony Robbins, Wayne Dyer, Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura, Stephen Covey...they are here to help you awaken the giants within, build seven (or is it eight?) habits to make you successful, create changing days in your life, be a no-limit person, and stop doing those stupid things which are screwing up your life and everyone else's. They know the answers, and they have the millions of dollars in sales to back it up. According to my favorite questionable source on the Internet, Wikipedia, the self-help market was worth $8.5 billion dollars in 2003, and by next year (2008) it is estimated to be worth over $11 billion.
The Self-Help Marketplace is the psychological equivalent to the romance novel. People who lack romance seek it in a book, and likewise, people who refuse (rightfully, I might add) psychiatric help, seek it in the Self-Help movement. And just like the romance novel, the Self-Help book is not something entirely new. Though there is an explosion of interest that constantly grows each year, there are predecessors to it starting with Ben Franklin's classic "Poor Richard's Almanac." The first real Self-Help book was written by a man with the delightful name Samuel Smiles, and it was titled..."Self-Help." (1859) I do not know how many copies it sold, or if it was a sensation upon release, but according to my "source," it was the first. Smiles wrote many more books, which apparently showcased Victorian values and emphasized individual achievement, for which Smiles was criticized by his contemporaries. Since that time we have had Alcoholics Anonymous (1935) to help people kick their liquor habit, Napoleon Hill to teach people how to get rich with their minds (1937), and Dale Carnegie to teach people how to expand their social circles and influence those in it (1936).
The main question here is...if these books have been around for decades, and hold the secrets to being a rich, happy, healthy person, why are so many people broke, miserable, and out-of-shape? My guess is that either these books do not work, or people are too lazy to apply the lessons taught in them. Much of what is covered in these books is of questionable scientific merit, and a lot of research into them say that the success rate is probably more of a placebo effect than anything else.
Can these books be trusted, then? Where can we find reliable reviews to help us sort out the empowering from the bullshit?
This, dear reader, is where I come in.
I am a voracious reader, and constantly stuff my mind with as much information as possible. For years I have read some of the deepest, most intellectually challenging books ever written (well, maybe just a couple of them). Well, it's time to take a break from all that. It's time for me to help YOU. Enough with The Canon. It's time for me to go slumming with Dr. Phil, find out why He's Just Not That Into You, and seek out that fucker Who Moved My Cheese.
I will be reading it all...the classics (How To Win Friends And Influence People, Think And Grow Rich, The AA "Big Book", The Strangest Secret, Psycho-Cybernetics), the questionable (I'm OK You're OK, Dianetics, All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten) and the fashionable (Awaken The Giant Within, Rich Dad Poor Dad, The Purpose Driven Life, Men Are From Mars Women Are From Venus). By the end of this experiment I will either be a fulfilled, wealthy, powerful man with a wife who blows me five times a day, or I'll need years of psychiatric help to undo the damage. Either way, I'm sure it'll be entertaining for YOU, the reader.
Rather than start at the beginning, I will be starting this experiment with the most embarrassing book I've ever seen. A book which I will carry around and read everywhere I go, and will undoubtedly lead to snickers from bystanders and people in general thinking I'm a fruity bastard. It is this book:
After that, let me know what you want me to read. Depending on the book, I may spend more time with some over others, and actually try to apply the "techniques" they require. One book promises fulfillment after a week...I will read that one and if I am not totally satisfied with life at the end of that week, I will let you know that the author was a lying, manipulative cocksucker who should have his balls wrapped in barbed wire.
Wish me luck, and help me help you with your recommendations!
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