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The Goliards and Shock Test…2 Scripts
Shcok Test corrected audio book available on youtube, etc.
The Goliards: Around 1167 AD, Nigel de Longchamps, Peter of Blois, and a young, recently love-spurned Andreus Cappelanus, are shuffled, due to bad behavior disguised as ironic satire, or vice versa, under threat of laicization, to wander the swamps of Europe for new prelatic tenure, seeking advice from Peter Abelard's castrated member, and encountering a furious and compromised Bernard of Cluny, a psychopathic knight, and the legend, the Archpoet. Scripted verse in sloppily encrypted, consecuted non-metered rhyme - including time-hopping monologues from John Lyly, Christopher Marlowe, John Webster, James Whistler, John Davidson, and Leonid Andreyev.
Shock Test…A Night of Truth: Bill Hicks & Timothy McVeigh Meet at Waco w/ Guest Lecturers: William Cooper & Ted Kaczynski - A Play by Sean Kilpatrick: Thickly fictional, hypothetical meeting of Bill Hicks and Timothy McVeigh outside the Waco Siege, with Duck Amuck style opening lecture by the reanimated corpse of William Cooper, closing with some words from Ted Kaczynski, or an operative(s) posing as such. Inspired by the work of Wendy S. Painting.
The Goliards: Around 1167 AD, Nigel de Longchamps, Peter of Blois, and a young, recently love-spurned Andreus Cappelanus, are shuffled, due to bad behavior disguised as ironic satire, or vice versa, under threat of laicization, to wander the swamps of Europe for new prelatic tenure, seeking advice from Peter Abelard's castrated member, and encountering a furious and compromised Bernard of Cluny, a psychopathic knight, and the legend, the Archpoet. Scripted verse in sloppily encrypted, consecuted non-metered rhyme - including time-hopping monologues from John Lyly, Christopher Marlowe, John Webster, James Whistler, John Davidson, and Leonid Andreyev.
Shock Test…A Night of Truth: Bill Hicks & Timothy McVeigh Meet at Waco w/ Guest Lecturers: William Cooper & Ted Kaczynski - A Play by Sean Kilpatrick: Thickly fictional, hypothetical meeting of Bill Hicks and Timothy McVeigh outside the Waco Siege, with Duck Amuck style opening lecture by the reanimated corpse of William Cooper, closing with some words from Ted Kaczynski, or an operative(s) posing as such. Inspired by the work of Wendy S. Painting.
142 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 1, 2013
18 people are currently reading
493 people want to read
About the author
Sean Kilpatrick
19 books135 followersSean Kilpatrick authored books of poetry, prose, scripts, criticism, and Anatomy Courses (w/ Blake Butler). Writings appeared in Boston Review, Nerve, Fence, Vice, Sleepingfish, Bomb, Evergreen Review, Columbia Poetry Review, New York Tyrant, Obsidian, The Malahat Review, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, fluland, Tarpaulin Sky, Exquisite Corpse, La Petite Zine, The Volta, LIT, Jacket2, Whiskey Island, The Quietus, Fanzine, berfrois, young mag, Hobart, surfaces.cx, Diagram, tragical, Safety Propaganda, Apocalypse Confidential, Misery Tourism, Countere, 30 Under 30 Innovative Fiction, Dzanc Best of the Web 2010, HTMLGIANT, Best American Essays 2014 notable, etc.
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Displaying 1 - 27 of 27 reviews
April 20, 2017
Well, this is a joy. I think that maybe some are put off reading this kind of stuff because they imagine there’s a something with an expectation of a very specific and right reaction in mind, and there’s an equally specific and wrong penalty that they will never live down. It is true that this does embrace assault by language, and hence niche but if you are lit up by words following other words this has some atrocity worth subscribing to.
One particular section reminded me closely of the time I passed out before a Prince concert (I recovered and stayed obviously) when I became particularly conscious of being conscious, and became a passenger to my own thoughts, which were having a conversation between themselves. Feverish, fragmenting, and descending in layers. Only extremity of wordage can hint at this stuff - one sentence had me crying with laughter but I can’t remember it now and suspect if I read it again I’d wash over it, or maybe be horrified. It does make a kind of sense in the subtext, and the brutality has some beauty to it.
I do recognise that not everyone has an affinity for writing like this, but I do so I’m reticent to put disclaimers all over it. My ultimate test is if I want to reread instantly, and this passed easily. The unreal deal.
One particular section reminded me closely of the time I passed out before a Prince concert (I recovered and stayed obviously) when I became particularly conscious of being conscious, and became a passenger to my own thoughts, which were having a conversation between themselves. Feverish, fragmenting, and descending in layers. Only extremity of wordage can hint at this stuff - one sentence had me crying with laughter but I can’t remember it now and suspect if I read it again I’d wash over it, or maybe be horrified. It does make a kind of sense in the subtext, and the brutality has some beauty to it.
I do recognise that not everyone has an affinity for writing like this, but I do so I’m reticent to put disclaimers all over it. My ultimate test is if I want to reread instantly, and this passed easily. The unreal deal.
February 25, 2017
Not going to lie, I've gotten a major kick out of this book.
There aren't any coherent explanations of what SUCKER JUNE is online, so I'll do my best: June (or, at least, I'll assume that's what her name is) is pretty adamant on having sex with everybody that isn't her husband. Instead of judging her and wallowing into the superficial nature of her encounters, Sean Kilpatrick starts going back into June's life to examine what turned her into a ravenous sex fiend hell-bent on not playing by the rules of holy sanctimony.
Now, SUCKER JUNE isn't exactly a progressive book or an apology of sexual liberation. But it's not exactly conservative either. I would say it's an exploration of the enslavement of desire. Desire is always perceived to be a good thing in conventional storytelling and it's exactly what Kilpatrick deconstructs here. That wrongful perception that chasing out desires is the road to freedom.
That said, Sean Kilpatrick is not for everybody. He's kind of a John Cage figure of literature and I'm not talking about the 4'33 era John Cage here. If you don't know who Cage is, you should definitely think twice about getting into Kilpatrick. He's not for everyone. There's a level of emotional brutality and a stream-of-consciousness delivery to his work that borderline toxic for human consumption.
There aren't any coherent explanations of what SUCKER JUNE is online, so I'll do my best: June (or, at least, I'll assume that's what her name is) is pretty adamant on having sex with everybody that isn't her husband. Instead of judging her and wallowing into the superficial nature of her encounters, Sean Kilpatrick starts going back into June's life to examine what turned her into a ravenous sex fiend hell-bent on not playing by the rules of holy sanctimony.
Now, SUCKER JUNE isn't exactly a progressive book or an apology of sexual liberation. But it's not exactly conservative either. I would say it's an exploration of the enslavement of desire. Desire is always perceived to be a good thing in conventional storytelling and it's exactly what Kilpatrick deconstructs here. That wrongful perception that chasing out desires is the road to freedom.
That said, Sean Kilpatrick is not for everybody. He's kind of a John Cage figure of literature and I'm not talking about the 4'33 era John Cage here. If you don't know who Cage is, you should definitely think twice about getting into Kilpatrick. He's not for everyone. There's a level of emotional brutality and a stream-of-consciousness delivery to his work that borderline toxic for human consumption.
May 16, 2022
The most disturbing book I have ever read. One of the most beautifully written books I have ever read. I'm in awe. A love letter to apoplectic anger. I would choose this over Naked Lunch.
January 12, 2014
This was a surprise release from Lazy Fascist Press last year. I think that could be attributed mostly to the impossible-to-market nature of Kilpatrick's hybrid. Careful handling. This one has fangs and it's not afraid to use them!
What we have here is a fusion of screenplay and stream of consciousness poetry. Don't be afraid, though! It IS possible to read this and follow the narration! You just have to pause every few lines and with your mental thesaurus, doublecheck what the author was really saying with those lines.
Also, there is rampant sexuality in these pages, of the jaded variety. Honestly, with the Seinfeld parody of a cover, would you expect any less?
What I find amazing about this book is that every line could be a slogan for some working or campaign agenda.
(Grabs woman with screaming children) "Yummy the poor. We do the bank's nostalgia. Procreate them stamps, bitch! Proud about the Bible."
Translation: A running commentary on the welfare state!
"I hate you all and am no more than you. Except my hate scores bottommost."
Translation: I'm just as bad as the rest of you, but you notice me even less.
"I can't come unless both lungs collapse. I've been screwing her since she was ten in one lunge. Her crickets are applauding. No one squawks unless I build a hut of them. It's about politics when I'm inside. It's about Smucker's and pride."
Translation: I've got this girl figured out. And I can only get off by humiliating and controlling her.
"This country was founded by puritans and they haven't stopped since."
Translation: People have been procreating since the whole thing began.
The difference, of course, between this and Seinfeld is that this isn't a show about nothing. Every single line, and I mean every single line, is about sex. But in gradually more depraved ways the longer the 'sitcom' gains viewers.
Cue the bassline and the credits. Lazy Fascist has secured a third season.
What we have here is a fusion of screenplay and stream of consciousness poetry. Don't be afraid, though! It IS possible to read this and follow the narration! You just have to pause every few lines and with your mental thesaurus, doublecheck what the author was really saying with those lines.
Also, there is rampant sexuality in these pages, of the jaded variety. Honestly, with the Seinfeld parody of a cover, would you expect any less?
What I find amazing about this book is that every line could be a slogan for some working or campaign agenda.
(Grabs woman with screaming children) "Yummy the poor. We do the bank's nostalgia. Procreate them stamps, bitch! Proud about the Bible."
Translation: A running commentary on the welfare state!
"I hate you all and am no more than you. Except my hate scores bottommost."
Translation: I'm just as bad as the rest of you, but you notice me even less.
"I can't come unless both lungs collapse. I've been screwing her since she was ten in one lunge. Her crickets are applauding. No one squawks unless I build a hut of them. It's about politics when I'm inside. It's about Smucker's and pride."
Translation: I've got this girl figured out. And I can only get off by humiliating and controlling her.
"This country was founded by puritans and they haven't stopped since."
Translation: People have been procreating since the whole thing began.
The difference, of course, between this and Seinfeld is that this isn't a show about nothing. Every single line, and I mean every single line, is about sex. But in gradually more depraved ways the longer the 'sitcom' gains viewers.
Cue the bassline and the credits. Lazy Fascist has secured a third season.
December 10, 2018
Twitterfinder General a heartworm sap
Twitterfinder General bleeding gum
Twitterfinder General a Knight of the Talcum
Twitterfinder General desist
Twitterfinder General suggester bankrolled
And the muzzle comforter informs the
Twitterfinder General before
Secret fun spasms unrequited, to be alighted
He bathes in
A
Beehive backwards
Twitterfinder General desist
Twitterfinder General outplays your final hand, left
Gross, until
Twitterfinder General laughs through muscly stomachs
And then ossifies a spirit mistaken for liquid,
All principles revert to catechism and bind
To Twitterfinder General
In the blindness of
You
Twitterfinder General bleeding gum
Twitterfinder General a Knight of the Talcum
Twitterfinder General desist
Twitterfinder General suggester bankrolled
And the muzzle comforter informs the
Twitterfinder General before
Secret fun spasms unrequited, to be alighted
He bathes in
A
Beehive backwards
Twitterfinder General desist
Twitterfinder General outplays your final hand, left
Gross, until
Twitterfinder General laughs through muscly stomachs
And then ossifies a spirit mistaken for liquid,
All principles revert to catechism and bind
To Twitterfinder General
In the blindness of
You
November 1, 2019
Rich piece of work. Up there with my favourites of the Kilpatricks. Use of language too delightful. To be relished.
October 20, 2025
No, I don’t know why this book has a Goosebumps cover, but yes, it made me way more excited to read it
November 6, 2014
Gil the Nihilist is by far the weirdest and most experimental book I have read all year, and perhaps in a very long time. Sean Kilpatrick has truly crafted and odd, challenging, and ultimately rewarding read reflective of our time.
At a covers glance, the book resembles an Edvard Munch painting (which is actually done by Sam Pink. Wooo!) mixed with a Seinfeld DVD cover. The back cover description links it to a low-cost late night Adult Swim show a la Tim & Eric. This is low-rent, Bevis & Butthead styled acid comedy in book form.
The story is told in the form of a teleplay. Chapters are actually episodes, and they are divided into two parts (season 1 & 2 respectively). Most of the episodes don't make a whole lot sense. This is largely attributed to the psychotic, drug-addled, stream of consciousness type dialogue that comes out of the main character's mouths.
Take this gem from title character. The only comparison I have to dialogue like this is Ginberg's Howl and Happy Noodle Boy from Jhonen Vasquez's Johnny the Homicidal Maniac; “Subpoena our gourmet lap. I'll root you into crippledom. We induce miscarriages when we chat. You're the child I want to impale well through Alzheimer's. It's Alzheimer's every time we touch. You're my little suicide witch.”
The three main characters take the Seinfeld/ATHF trio to new extremes. They are Elaine, Jerry, and George with deeper childhood traumas, and psychiatric scars. Their warped views of reality are not to be trusted, but perhaps it doesn't matter anyway, because nothing really matters. The book could have a plot, it may not have a plot. If it does have a plot, it is a plot about nothing.
The long, confusing, random dialogue is bound to turn off most readers, as they stumble for meaning behind the words. Ultimately this is ultra avant garde poetry told through an unique narrative. It could come off as pretentious to a lot of readers who aren't normally fans of that kind of absurd thing. Ultimately I think the story has no meaning. Why read it anyway? Who knows, but I found enjoyment in it. Perhaps the most fun part of reading Gil the Nihilist is reading it with others and trying to each figure out and interpret just what hell you think is going on each “episode”. My copy is flagged with pen marks and highlights that I'm sure expose my fractured psyche through my analysis of each of these depraved nimrods.
Go out and track this book down. Read it if you enjoy things that are absolutely absurd in nature, and warped in humor. Awesome read. By far the most interesting thing I picked up all year long conceptually speaking.
At a covers glance, the book resembles an Edvard Munch painting (which is actually done by Sam Pink. Wooo!) mixed with a Seinfeld DVD cover. The back cover description links it to a low-cost late night Adult Swim show a la Tim & Eric. This is low-rent, Bevis & Butthead styled acid comedy in book form.
The story is told in the form of a teleplay. Chapters are actually episodes, and they are divided into two parts (season 1 & 2 respectively). Most of the episodes don't make a whole lot sense. This is largely attributed to the psychotic, drug-addled, stream of consciousness type dialogue that comes out of the main character's mouths.
Take this gem from title character. The only comparison I have to dialogue like this is Ginberg's Howl and Happy Noodle Boy from Jhonen Vasquez's Johnny the Homicidal Maniac; “Subpoena our gourmet lap. I'll root you into crippledom. We induce miscarriages when we chat. You're the child I want to impale well through Alzheimer's. It's Alzheimer's every time we touch. You're my little suicide witch.”
The three main characters take the Seinfeld/ATHF trio to new extremes. They are Elaine, Jerry, and George with deeper childhood traumas, and psychiatric scars. Their warped views of reality are not to be trusted, but perhaps it doesn't matter anyway, because nothing really matters. The book could have a plot, it may not have a plot. If it does have a plot, it is a plot about nothing.
The long, confusing, random dialogue is bound to turn off most readers, as they stumble for meaning behind the words. Ultimately this is ultra avant garde poetry told through an unique narrative. It could come off as pretentious to a lot of readers who aren't normally fans of that kind of absurd thing. Ultimately I think the story has no meaning. Why read it anyway? Who knows, but I found enjoyment in it. Perhaps the most fun part of reading Gil the Nihilist is reading it with others and trying to each figure out and interpret just what hell you think is going on each “episode”. My copy is flagged with pen marks and highlights that I'm sure expose my fractured psyche through my analysis of each of these depraved nimrods.
Go out and track this book down. Read it if you enjoy things that are absolutely absurd in nature, and warped in humor. Awesome read. By far the most interesting thing I picked up all year long conceptually speaking.
July 29, 2018
I will post a legit, full review shortly of this short little masochistic nightmare (affectionately put), as right now I'm barely awake and heading off the bed. Suffice it to say for now that this is one wild little book. I liked it. Very original. Hyper-violent and very funny. Reminds me of the kind of screenplay Quentin Tarantino and Anthony Burgess would put out if they collaborated. Of course, they would resurrect Shakespeare for input as well. But yes, Sean Kilpatrick has an evil, genius of a mind. The guy can write. His book here is presented as a screenplay and isn't long at all, maybe 75 pages. Perfect length however, as it keeps the shock factor high and doesn't allow the originality factor to wear thin- you know what they say, Too much of a good thing....
Anyway, it's no surprise that this was published by Sagging Meniscus Press who consistently publish the most diverse, boundary pushing fiction out there today. It's criminal that their writers aren't the first ones you see when you walk into a Barnes and Nobles.
Anyway, it's no surprise that this was published by Sagging Meniscus Press who consistently publish the most diverse, boundary pushing fiction out there today. It's criminal that their writers aren't the first ones you see when you walk into a Barnes and Nobles.
December 31, 2013
Sean Kilpatrick remains one of my favorite working writers, and this may be his most fucked yet. Set up as the shooting script for a sitcom revolving around three anarchic, misogynistic, desperately horny and beautiful pieces of shit, Gil the Nihilist lays it on thick from the first page and only gets more and more pigged out and black to the heart as it goes. Most any sentence Kilpatrick piles on is one you could get tattooed on your gums: “I bow to fast food. My smelted teensy ritual. It vacations in your catheter. The animal supplement smacks of copyright. Go on, shine what bucks you. No one takes their vitamins alone.”
February 21, 2014
Every now and then you come across a book that pretty much expands your idea of the things you thought were possible while writing. A little extra shock factor presented in such a different way that, yes, it still manages to shock. I found this book to be exactly that.
You get three main characters: two men, a blank nihilist (Gil) and a fucked up blatantly-misogynist psychopath (Edmund), as well as a no-punches-held deadpan hipster crazy woman (Starr). Each of the "chapters" involve the three of them sort of interacting via half-to-two page long monologues. Monologues that at times read like poetry, at times like a stream of consciousness rant.
The plot itself isn't just not complicated, it's basically non-existent.
The three of them are the ultimate nonconformists to the point of craziness, the back of the book (which justifies the 4 stars by itself) mentions that basically everyone functional is a yuppie to them. We see them jump from one plain boring situation to a crazy one to another plain boring one and they all just don't give a fuck about anything. Whatever's happening is just another chance for them to go on with their soliloquies disguised as conversation.
This back cover, by the way, is a parody "pitch" for selling the idea for a tv series, the book after all being a script divided as two seasons of episodes lasting from four to eight pages. There's even a comment in the back about having the length of the recorded episodes being similar to CN's [adult swim]. Little bit of a cheap wink, but loved it nevertheless.
The book is written in a very strange-but-readable fashion. It's complex in its characters' dialogues and metaphors they use and more than once requires a reread to find the meaning behind what they're saying. It hits home several times on the rants against middle class. It's fun.
But most of all, it just feels different. Very different.
You get three main characters: two men, a blank nihilist (Gil) and a fucked up blatantly-misogynist psychopath (Edmund), as well as a no-punches-held deadpan hipster crazy woman (Starr). Each of the "chapters" involve the three of them sort of interacting via half-to-two page long monologues. Monologues that at times read like poetry, at times like a stream of consciousness rant.
The plot itself isn't just not complicated, it's basically non-existent.
The three of them are the ultimate nonconformists to the point of craziness, the back of the book (which justifies the 4 stars by itself) mentions that basically everyone functional is a yuppie to them. We see them jump from one plain boring situation to a crazy one to another plain boring one and they all just don't give a fuck about anything. Whatever's happening is just another chance for them to go on with their soliloquies disguised as conversation.
This back cover, by the way, is a parody "pitch" for selling the idea for a tv series, the book after all being a script divided as two seasons of episodes lasting from four to eight pages. There's even a comment in the back about having the length of the recorded episodes being similar to CN's [adult swim]. Little bit of a cheap wink, but loved it nevertheless.
The book is written in a very strange-but-readable fashion. It's complex in its characters' dialogues and metaphors they use and more than once requires a reread to find the meaning behind what they're saying. It hits home several times on the rants against middle class. It's fun.
But most of all, it just feels different. Very different.
July 5, 2014
There's plenty of things wrong with this book. It's unreadable, for example. The attempts at poetry are lame and only excusable by the state of the protagonists. But it's also delightfully fucked up and, while content-free on the surface level, it goes a long way in tackling the darkness of life in a hyperstimulated, connected but alienated world.
Read this if: you can handle darkness, aren't hating pretentious avant-gardism, have felt that the information society has Caligulated all of us.
Read this if: you can handle darkness, aren't hating pretentious avant-gardism, have felt that the information society has Caligulated all of us.
September 25, 2018
It's careful wordplay and loose lipped profanity, set to theatrical structure, gives way to irreverent ravings: so random and riotous, foul and nonsensical that they equate to an entirely harmless yet wholly humorous read. And likely this is the prime objective of Sean Kilpatrik's satire on the impulsive, oppressive, and ridiculous demands of political correctness.
October 30, 2015
The best nonfiction.
June 23, 2022
Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t.
August 10, 2022
Vivid, poetic, disturbing. Some of the best prose I’ve ever read.
April 27, 2024
Started on Friday February 9th 2024 and finished on Thursday February 15th 2024
A woman gets a form of satisfaction out of cuckolding her husband and watching him be eaten away from the inside
Details in great minutiae the ways in which she keeps men in safe structured boxes that she can manipulate
Through different points of view the book explores a lineage of sexual depravity that connects like an endless daisy chain
Detailing a plot would be a disservice to the experience of reading the novel
Brief 103 pages
Structure feels impenetrable yet ethereal and gaseous
Rewards and pleasures are delivered in ways that are unconventional and confrontational.
Through the uniform aesthetics of it’s presentation I would read a section and feel like I had a comprehensive image of what it was saying only to be surprised by a turn of phrase like a eureka moment that would click the truer image of the passage and then I would reread it with the new fuller context
Through its obfuscation it becomes filled with meaning by the reader’s engagement
In a way it’s a book that has a clear answer but is conceding that there are no clear answers
Tune your brain to the frequency that it’s delivering the information on and it flows eloquently
Violent incestuous relationships
Horror movie sleaze scarring imagery
Reenacting of self destructive murderous patterns
Grand allusions to violence
Psychedelic and otherworldly
Sickening and utterly creative in its depiction of human barbarism
Graphic imagery on par with Delany
A woman gets a form of satisfaction out of cuckolding her husband and watching him be eaten away from the inside
Details in great minutiae the ways in which she keeps men in safe structured boxes that she can manipulate
Through different points of view the book explores a lineage of sexual depravity that connects like an endless daisy chain
Detailing a plot would be a disservice to the experience of reading the novel
Brief 103 pages
Structure feels impenetrable yet ethereal and gaseous
Rewards and pleasures are delivered in ways that are unconventional and confrontational.
Through the uniform aesthetics of it’s presentation I would read a section and feel like I had a comprehensive image of what it was saying only to be surprised by a turn of phrase like a eureka moment that would click the truer image of the passage and then I would reread it with the new fuller context
Through its obfuscation it becomes filled with meaning by the reader’s engagement
In a way it’s a book that has a clear answer but is conceding that there are no clear answers
Tune your brain to the frequency that it’s delivering the information on and it flows eloquently
Violent incestuous relationships
Horror movie sleaze scarring imagery
Reenacting of self destructive murderous patterns
Grand allusions to violence
Psychedelic and otherworldly
Sickening and utterly creative in its depiction of human barbarism
Graphic imagery on par with Delany
September 16, 2020
When I finished Sir William Forsythe’s Freebase Nuptials, a suicide club in perpetual diction freefall, my brain floated in my breakfast syrup wrinkled. This book mills an oxymoron out of OxyContin. Better living through the chemistry of syntax. I can’t tell if I’m listening to a linguistic messiah bloated from word salad, or a tractotomy patient coming up from anesthesia, hole filled with Laurie Anderson’s voice modulator, flipping phonetics inside out until each skin tag is worth its weight in coke. This strange screenplay “opens an umbrella in the fact that [it] exists”. My favorite line: “don’t piss in my aquarium and tell the fish it’s vitamins”. Sean Kilpatrick may be Beelzebub hailing his bunions, and I’m glad this ain’t the devil’s death rattle.
August 1, 2017
Yea I couldn't finish it. Just pathetic really. I stopped after "I killed my mother exiting her. What do you think I do with every bitch on the street?" on page 19. Is it supposed to shock me. Is it supposed to make me laugh. Is it supposed to be avant garde. It's just exhausting. I was excited to read until I started. And thanks to the marketing pitch, I know it's not going anywhere.
February 11, 2016
innovative. mostly sentences that felt like a series of witty, playful tweets. I don't know.
November 7, 2025
Read by switching between Tantrums collection and Audiobook on Youtube.
I have no idea what the FUCK is going on. And I still LOVE it.
Every sentence is an ATOM BOMB.
TOP TIER LIT WRITER 4 SHO.
I have no idea what the FUCK is going on. And I still LOVE it.
Every sentence is an ATOM BOMB.
TOP TIER LIT WRITER 4 SHO.
April 28, 2024
To a degree rarely rivaled, Sean Kilpatrick lives for words. Tantrums is a testament to the last twenty years of his life, and includes absolutely batshit scripts, joyfully brutal fiction, and brutally vehement criticism. The title – Tantrums – is a gentle admonition, as every piece hails like a fit of bad temper. Kilpatrick’s style is dictated by a lively hatred. His imagination is as diffuse as the language allows it to be. If writing is a means of revenge, then Kilpatrick’s prose swings as low as possible, leashed only by a peculiar style. At once precise and verbose, the prose seems guided by something inhuman, and Kilpatrick has even written: “I’m trying, impossibly, for an art that transcends dogma to become its own dogma.” Tantrums is his best try yet.
full review on Hobart: https://www.hobartpulp.com/web_featur...
full review on Hobart: https://www.hobartpulp.com/web_featur...
March 11, 2024
Grotesquery
Peculiar & perverse. The whole shebang a disquieting rumpus of wrangles couched in a slogan-slang language. I digested the absurd situations with grave amusement (enjoyment) even though the recipe is a hodgepodge. Dark, hollow, extravagant: an escapade/rigmarole of interest to those who like a gruesome slapstick style.
AI remix of the above: "Strange and twisted. The entire story is a disturbing uproar of conflicts expressed in a catchy and colloquial language. I appreciated the ridiculous scenarios with serious amusement even though the mixture is a mishmash. Gloomy, empty, lavish: an adventure of nonsense - of interest to those who like a macabre and comical style."
Peculiar & perverse. The whole shebang a disquieting rumpus of wrangles couched in a slogan-slang language. I digested the absurd situations with grave amusement (enjoyment) even though the recipe is a hodgepodge. Dark, hollow, extravagant: an escapade/rigmarole of interest to those who like a gruesome slapstick style.
AI remix of the above: "Strange and twisted. The entire story is a disturbing uproar of conflicts expressed in a catchy and colloquial language. I appreciated the ridiculous scenarios with serious amusement even though the mixture is a mishmash. Gloomy, empty, lavish: an adventure of nonsense - of interest to those who like a macabre and comical style."
January 1, 2025
The kind of book that’s hard to actually pull off successfully. There’s a lot of stuff like this out there, and I’ve read more of them than I enjoyed. This is one of the few that works. I sometimes regret selling it to Half Price Books, but I like to think some rando found it and saw that, yes, books like this can actually be good.
December 14, 2018
Review to come.
Read
December 28, 2017Its good
Displaying 1 - 27 of 27 reviews