Saturday, June 5, 2010
there's a wall. around me.
- Learning that Hunter S. Thompson was basically every cranky old man who wrote furious letters to the editor ever should be sad, but isn't because of how savagely he owned people in so doing. Anyone not reading The Gonzo Papers right this instant is a fool.
- Likewise, anyone not reading Matthew Simmons' A Jello Horse is a fool. It's as funny as it is short, and anyone who enjoys jabbing at the Midwest and public access television as much as he does is fine by me.
- Inherent Vice is one of Thomas Pynchon's, erm, more accessible books, but it's still good. I get the feeling that he just wanted to indulge himself in something fun after decades of cranking out reams of brain-eating prose. He succeeded - if Fear & Loathing In Las Vegas is the result of countercultural collapse, Inherent Vice captures the moment when the supports began creaking.
- French garage rock, neighbored in musical content only by cavemen who banged rocks together and shouted into clay pots, is great.
- Touchstone Theatre Company is putting on The Tempest at Theater Project here in Baltimore, and they've got another whole weekend to go. Thurs-Sat. at 8pm, Sunday at 3pm. It's great. They're great. Go see it or I will come at you with a pressure washer full of Harbor water and shitmist.
- I am gathering intelligence as we speak so that I may hunker down in my garret next week and get some good solid writing done. Waiting for the Muse is a terrible habit I need to break, but when I force myself to write, it comes out as brutal gibberish that I have to rewrite anyway. I haven't stumbled upon the happy medium yet. But since I am still in the dawn of my writing career, such as it is, I may yet find it.