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Thank you John Wilson for the recommendation. Easily one of the best-written pieces of (journalistic) nonfiction I've put in front of my eyes in a long time. How the hell does he know all this stuff?

slowly but surely, i approach Freud from a distance

The perfect bedside book. Small, pulp read–sized with short chapters and pages that fly by easily. I have a good-looking copy, too, which always adds to things. But also, damn, this is good!

Notes:

- the man knows how to end an essay (style)
- the man does not know how to end an essay (length)
- what did his magazine story-assigning superiors think when they sent him to, say, a state fair, and he brought back 60+ bookpages-worth riddled with footnotes and words like "otiose" and "pulchritude"?
- mostly love it. but man can he talk down on normal Midwestern folks in an aggravating, pretentious manner.

I can't help but feel like I'm reading [Harry Potter] + [linguistics] + [anticolonialism].

Ridiculously entertaining so far.

a long haul

depressing & hilarious

This is a great read for the library — dialogue-heavy short-stories that just breeze on by. There's a great, flowery manner of characterization here that feels both tongue-in-cheek and very "real." He knows his way around flippant, adolescent thoughts. The stories so far make the reader interrogate why they were written.

The finish line is in sight but this book is overdue and I'm distracted by all the other books I want to read. Also, Reagan's Latin American policy sucked even by American presidential standards, which is a low, low bar.

I've eagerly awaited the release of albums and walked into my experience with them with both high expectations and that underlying apprehension l, a vicarious fear-of-failure, that comes along with high expectations. But never a book. Not until now, anyway.