This is not to say I didn’t enjoy the book, I did. I think Chuck’s portrayal of
Klosterman’s books are largely walks down his own memory lane. I’m not sure why but I find the fact he can intertwine his life with pop culture and society intriguing. If I didn’t, there really would be nothing else to draw me to his writing. His seemingly never-ending, treasure trove of yarns involving getting drunk, denied by the unreturned love of the week, all while ripping on hipster assholes who dig cocaine and the latest Interpol record, remind me why I have always thought of SPIN as a pretentious / bullshit music magazine. All things music being subjective, ripping Interpol but deifying everything Jack White does, just does not compute in my universe.
What the fuck am I saying? Did I like it, did I hate it? I’m looking it this evening as one where I was able to forget about my television for awhile. I was able to not be mired in the fact I would love to be watching the history or food channel but that I lack the necessary income to afford these “premium” channels. I was able to not spend the night implementing my television in my video game geekery. I was able to spend the night feeding my head…and that’s ok too.
I hope you all are well.