Some families have bad luck. And some families fall victim to such horrendous, cruel, cosmically unjust twists of fate that they believe they’re cursed. In the opening pages of The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, the reader is introduced to the concept of fuku: the family curse that casts its shadow across generations and brings woe and misfortune to everyone it touches. The book bears witness to the capricious whims of fuku that befall Oscar de Leon (“Wao” turns out to be a nickname) and his forebears.

Oscar is, according to his best friend and the book’s chief narrator, an overweight Dominican ghetto nerd living in Jersey who is absolutely hopeless around girls. The book abounds with references to Lord of the Rings, Watchmen, Planet of the Apes, Dune, and other major and minor works in the geek canon. Oscar fancies himself a writer and spends countless lonely hours in front of his computer, cranking out page after page of what he hopes will be the next space opera masterpiece. More than anything, Oscar wants a girlfriend, but his all-consuming crushes (on women with significant flaws of their own) usually end in disappointment and heartbreak.

The novel isn’t just about Oscar, though. We are transported back in time to the Dominican Republic of Oscar’s parents and grandparents, a place where beauty and terror exist in close proximity. Trujillo, the country’s psychotic fascist dictator for much of the twentieth century, looms over events like a modern-day Sauron. Trujillo’s murderous rule leads to the downfall of Oscar’s grandfather, a familial calamity that sets a tragic chain of events in motion that have implications even for Oscar.

This is an enthralling book narrated in several distinctive voices. The prose is beautiful, funny, and generally a pleasure to hear in my own head. Oscar’s sad sack state of being is treated with empathy without elevating him to geek sainthood. Oscar is no hero, but he does the best he can.

While reading Oscar’s story, I had a nagging feeling of familiarity. Oscar reminds me of someone. I’ll figure it out who it is eventually.

Wow, so Obama is capable of saying stupid stuff. I thought we would get through at least the first six months of his administration before he made some wince-inducing remark. But unlike Sarah Palin, I’m going to keep the president’s faux pas in perspective. If the disability community wants something to get upset about, there’s the group home in Texas where the staff organized their own little fight club using the residents as gladiators.

I know I’m not a young man anymore, but I thought I had a few more years of peak brain power before my synapses get all short-circuity and I can’t remember my Facebook password without writing it down somewhere. But according to scientists, my cognitive faculties peaked at age 27. So much for my plans to develop that unifying theory of time and space. Little did I know I was already in decline when I started this blog and it’s been downhill ever since. My apologies to my readers. Now, where’s the button that delivers these words to my…oh, what do you call it…computer diary thing? Ah, here it is.

First, the standard disclaimer: the following is not written in my capacity as a Department of Human Services staffer.

States have a lot of freedom to administer public benefits programs like Medicaid and Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF). This extends to the application and eligibility determination process. Some states make applying for benefits a bureaucratic hassle, but other states, like Georgia, serve up a heaping pile of humiliation to anyone seeking assistance. Applicants are forced to answer questions about their personal lives, falsely informed that they don’t qualify for benefits, and generally made to feel like they’re committing a crime just by showing up at the door.

Not that we’re any more inclined to be any more enlightened up here in Yankee territory. One bill making the rounds at the state legislature would prevent anyone who had ever been convicted of a violent crime from receiving certain types of state-funded assistance, including health care. So if you have a mental illness and ended up with a battery conviction, you might not be able get the meds that might help you stay out of jail in the future.

It’s funny. One can be considered middle-class for making $30,000 or $300,000. The gap between $30,000 and nothing is much less substantial in terms of math, but it’s a yawning chasm in terms of our own prejudices.

Happy Pi Day to everyone. Pi Day is the holiday on which you bake a pie for your favorite geek/nerd.

Don’t tell me you forgot. I totally left a reminder on your Facebook wall.

It doesn’t have to be made from scratch. I’m cool with the store-bought variety. I’ll just watch the new Star Trek trailer a few dozen more times until you can get here. Don’t forget the whipped cream.