If I Sang Karaoke in NY, I Can't Remember and it Didn't Happen...

New Dexter isn't a novel but this thing. Last time someone did this it was William Kennedy, and I slapped myself in the head after buying his collected newspaper writings, as no one collects newspaper articles, because newspapers are good for lining birdcages, wrapping fish, and driving mad cunt extraordinaire Clint Reilly batty. I'll wait for the remainder table.

Taking my time with Women in Love, and gonna do The Rainbow after that, and then write a 40,000 word essay on why those are the only two novels one needs in life. I'm taking my time because half.com is delivering books at a nice pace, and reading some nonfiction like Tom Wolfe's Radical Chic is kinda fun. I'm gonna order all books by one author per month from half and let the trickle trickle.

And the poetry, my god there is the poetry. Robert Frost is a seriously talented motherfucker who might become my second favorite modern guy after Eliot. I tried to be cool and get into Wallace Stevens but he left me flat 10 years ago, and no one who cares about American letters can slag Stevens, but I'm going to until I have the time to go round again.

Anyone heard the new Stooges record yet? Anyone laughing at the new Stooges record yet?