Beginning today you’ll see some new user icons from the home office in rotation. The icons are culled from a series of terrific photographs of Rapa Nui by , who has very generously shared the images with me and given me permission to use them here.

Papa Moai blesses all his little forest friends.

My longtime friend and SF writer William Shunn () has a terrific novella, “Inclination,” in the April/May 2006 issue of Asimov’s Science Fiction. The details are available in Bill’s LiveJournal entry here, but the issue should be on the stands beginning next week.* Go! Run, my little forest friends! Buy it!

* Update: the issue is available now, according to .

I just finished reading Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential, thanks to , who very kindly gave me her copy. It’s wild romp, mostly through the mid- to high-end restaurant kitchens of New York City. Though Bourdain indulges a little too often in riffs on what a crazy, piratical, drug-scarfing band of reprobates he and his kitchen mates are, it’s one of those books that ably reveals the secret world beneath the skin of everyday life. Bourdain does dish some trade secrets (don’t order the fish on Mondays), but what I found really compelling was the way he gets you inside a chef’s head.

I’ve never been a “foodie.” Oh, I like to eat, all too much, but I’ve rarely taken the time to be a sensualist about food. Bordain really gives you a feel for how chefs think about food—what excites them, and what should excite you. Reading it has made me excited to try foods outside my comfort zone, and to really treat a meal as a sensual experience. And by the way, if you’ve ever been intimidated by a snotty waiter, this book will be the antidote.

Oddly, for all the illegal, anti-social, and boorish behavior Bourdain chronicles (and confesses to), one of the themes that runs through the book is taking responsibility for one’s life. He describes some lessons learned from a restaurant owner he only identifies as Bigfoot:

Bigfoot understood–as I came to understand–that character is far more important than skills or employment history. And he recognized character–good and bad–brilliantly. He understood, and taught me, that a guy who shows up every day on time, never calls in sick, and does what he said he was going to do is less likely to fuck you in the end than a guy who has an incredible resume but is less than reliable about arrival time.

Finally, Bourdain can really write. (He’s apparently written a couple of novels.) He’s funny, profane, and a very good judge of horseflesh, literally and figuratively. Bourdain has a fantastic eye for detail—his descriptions of Tokyo are riveting—and he sees deeper into people than many novelists.

If you eat, this book is for you.