I'm tiring of this game, I'm tiring of contemporary literature, I'm tiring of this blog. The people who run current literature are friggin morons. There's no end to their vacuousness. Trying to engage their intelligence is like dropping a pebble down a well and waiting for a sound which never comes. That's the depth of the emptiness inside their heads. The people inside the business of literature don't have a clue what they're doing and how they're destroying the art. "TMI" by the way means "Too Much Information." The first task of the writer-- any writer-- is to communicate. With a story or book you're given a page or two to make a connection. To plant an image or insight or thought into the reader's head and keep him reading. The classic task of the storyteller for the past three thousand years. Is that too much to ask? For literature, it's basic survival. Literature sustains itself as a business because of a dozen or so survivalists, the James Pattersons who aren't very good, or at all good, but they can at least do the basics. Without them, literature would be removed from the culture altogether. This is actually what the priests of literature want. They're monks who want the art solely for themselves. This is why they embrace David Foster Wallace. His writing is so bad, so offputting, so excruciatingly slow paced self-indulgent and childishly stupid that no one else but themselves could possibly appreciate it. No one with half-a-brain and the most minimal radar sense of when they're being conned. The priests of literature have backed themselves into a corner and are busily constructing a brick wall closing themselves in. A few more bricks to go! Then they'll be done with us and we'll be done with them.
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I'm tiring of this game, I'm tiring of contemporary literature, I'm tiring of this blog.
The people who run current literature are friggin morons. There's no end to their vacuousness. Trying to engage their intelligence is like dropping a pebble down a well and waiting for a sound which never comes. That's the depth of the emptiness inside their heads.
The people inside the business of literature don't have a clue what they're doing and how they're destroying the art.
"TMI" by the way means "Too Much Information."
The first task of the writer-- any writer-- is to communicate.
With a story or book you're given a page or two to make a connection. To plant an image or insight or thought into the reader's head and keep him reading. The classic task of the storyteller for the past three thousand years.
Is that too much to ask?
For literature, it's basic survival. Literature sustains itself as a business because of a dozen or so survivalists, the James Pattersons who aren't very good, or at all good, but they can at least do the basics.
Without them, literature would be removed from the culture altogether.
This is actually what the priests of literature want. They're monks who want the art solely for themselves.
This is why they embrace David Foster Wallace.
His writing is so bad, so offputting, so excruciatingly slow paced self-indulgent and childishly stupid that no one else but themselves could possibly appreciate it.
No one with half-a-brain and the most minimal radar sense of when they're being conned.
The priests of literature have backed themselves into a corner and are busily constructing a brick wall closing themselves in. A few more bricks to go!
Then they'll be done with us and we'll be done with them.
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