I want to major in the internet.

Seriously, folks (or should I say “srsly”?). Internet culture is absolutely fascinating from a linguistic and anthropological standpoint: I could happily spend hours studying the evolution of chatspeak or the histories of the oldest websites/viral videos/memes in existence.

A side effect of this little interest of mine is that I pay very close attention to trends on social networking sites. Although Facebook Note surveys, “doppelganger week,” and girls mysteriously posting their bra colors in supposed solidarity with the fight against breast cancer are now memes of the past, copy-&-paste status games, shared pictures, and other foolishness still abounds. Recently, a number of my “friends” have taken to posting a particularly eloquent status that I was sure had died out in 2010:

It’s international book week. The rules: Grab the closest book to you, turn to page 52, post the 5th sentence as your status. Don’t mention the title. Copy the rules as part of your status.

Anyone who googles this beloved literary phenomenon will quickly find out that no such specified time period exists–in fact, like the various floating islands of myth and legend, International Book Week seems to appear and vanish again at will.

“Well, that’s all right and good, Keely,” you might be thinking, “but what in tarnation does this have to do with your Cornell blog?”

Oh, ye of little faith. This characteristically verbose introduction is simply the lead-in to a small list that I’d like to call…

“The 5 Most Life-Changing Books I’ve Read at Cornell.”*

*for fun, for classes, or because I ran into someone I sort of knew in the library stacks and had to pretend I was reading something so I wouldn’t have to talk to him/her.

5. An Introduction to Old Norse, by E.V. Gordon

The best $85 you’ll ever spend on a book that’s skinnier than Twilight. 

Our heroes are trapped inside a barrow by an evil king–thank goodness the queen comes by to give them some bacon to eat! Wait, hold on a second. Does that translate to “pig’s flesh” or “horse’s flesh”? Either way, there are definitely no Boca Burgers in the world of Old Norse sagas.

I blogged prolifically about how much I loved taking Old Norse last semester, and it’s no exaggeration to say that my life would be completely different had I never been immersed in [the Ragnarok-and-roll of] the Old Icelandic world.

4. Sex and the Slayer: A Gender Studies Primer for the Buffy Fan, by Lorna Jowett

Sadly, the cover design for this book makes /me/ want to stake somebody.

Before college, I barely even watched TV. Now that I appreciate the world of high-quality (and campy) television and dream of writing for it myself someday, it’s thrilling to see that shows can, like other supposedly classier forms of art, inspire scholarly thought and critique.

3. Some Guy’s Book of Poems That I Didn’t Really Like All That Much

Confused by #3? Remember, my friends, that this is a list of the books that changed my life the most–and although I won’t even mention this poet’s name for fear he’ll read my blog and swear revenge, I have to grudgingly admit that an introduction to a discussion of his book resulted, indirectly, in my exposure to Adrienne Brooks’ “Diving into the Wreck,” which is now unquestionably my favorite poem of all time.

See, this is why you should do your homework! Or at least show up to class in case somebody mentions an incredible poem that’s fifty million times better than the required reading was.

2. The Art of Mesoamerica: From Olmec to Aztec, by Mary Ellen Miller

Actually, this book’s mostly on here because the class I’m currently reading it for–Introduction to Latin American Art–is itself absolutely life-changing. I’m kind of embarrassed that most of my knowledge of Pre-Columbian art before this semester originated from The Road to El Dorado (although I gotta say that Dreamworks did a pretty good job making the iconography accurate in that one): and now I can tell my Quetzacoatl imagery from depictions of the flayed-skin god. Talk about useful life skills!

1. St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves, by Karen Russell

Actually, seeing all of these wacked-out cover images is making me glad that Cornell typically removes the dust jackets from their library books.

Before Russell became famous for being one of the three Pulitzer Prize nominees during the year when, um, no  finalist was chosen for the Fiction division, she wrote an awesome anthology of some of the best short stories I’ve ever read. Plus, this book taught me that magical realism weirdness–from a disturbing world where girls can revert back to their canine past selves to a theme park-like destination based around gigantic sea shells–is perfectly acceptable in today’s fiction world. Good to know!

P.S. I bet you were wondering what the fifth sentence on page 52 of the book nearest to me is, weren’t you?

“In this manner, the records and memories of a multitude of local or regional centers for Edo-period earthenware production have been overshadowed by the modern focus on stoneware and porcelain, but they are there if one looks.”

Thrilling, I know. Who even came up with this meme in the first place?