A small book I bought in Marfa a couple years ago.
A small book I bought in Marfa a couple years ago.
Manga mail day. Two volume twos, coincidentally.
Took a picture of a book and my cat. Posted it on an app I haven't used for years.
I always enjoy Barthelme, even when (or maybe especially when) I don't get the point.
This was an interesting artifact of well-meaning, but dated, satire. I mean, Mark Twain's attempts at dialect didn't do anyone any favors, either, but . . .
Still, I wasn't bored.
Chuck has gotten so very silly. I love his modern strategy of cramming three or four different underdeveloped novels into one, though.
I forgot to post about this earlier this week. A nice little post-apocalyptic wandering that stayed away from the pure shock that bizarro lit sometimes falls into. I liked it more than I expected.
Got it at a conference this week. Guess I'll read it. It's signed, heh.
This was smart and I'm smart for reading it.
This was a nutty little book. I should probably have read some other Godzilla books first just to get used to the silent storytelling style.
This description of the irrepressibility of Richard Pryor's humor is the best. I'd watch a movie based on it.
Paul Mooney is fascinating in his own right, but the Richard Pryor stuff in here is amazing.
"Art does not reproduce the visible; rather, it makes visible." - Paul Klee, quoted here
"Cluttering Up Golgotha" sounds like a Christian screamo band.
Some work reading. I'm intrigued by Humberto Maturana, cited here.
"In the world of objectivity . . . a claim of knowledge is a demand for obedience."
Starting this. Louis C.K. wrote a pointless and short foreword. First two pages of the book proper are already better, darker and more literary than one would expect based on the foreword.