I started to give Philip Roth another chance with The Counterlife and he burned me, again. Did this guy write any books that aren’t more than 90% about his own penis. Maybe I should try to get past page 5. obviously anything will suffer if you read it after rereading Dubliners but I mean, come on. the sexual anxiety of the gray-collar classes is I guess in play for writing about. Maybe I’m being a fascist. Probably being a fascist. I’m really getting ready to embrace my new position as the de facto leader of the secular apolitical neofeudalist minority, and i hope you will too. The first step is for everybody to get everybody caught up on their Jane Austen and then we can move on to calisthenics.
PHILIP ROTH UPDATE: As of page 19, it’s better, mostly because of the received idea of “moral credentials” but still not clear why I am reading it. Although i suppose no one is holding a gun to my head, at least not right now, or at least it’s not clear that it has anything to do with Philip Roth
Steve Earle: The Roy Oswalt of Country Music
As it turns out, doing anything other laying in bed 10 h0urs a day reading is probably unchristian, if you know what I mean.
Sherman Alexie: can I get some input?
Also, it’s over, do you understand me, this ends here
Two bowls of Life
One bowl of Quaker Oat Squares
Assorted handfuls of both kinds of cereal
One two slice(s) of pizza