I picked up a copy of the Inherent Vice film with Joaquin Phoenix and sadly it was disappointing. The back of the cover related that it was like nothing I would have ever seen or some such nonsense. Well I only had to recall The Long Goodbye from 1973 with Elliot Gould. After total recall I thought well if this isn’t the same movie? Either way Philip Marlowe was great or at the very least, believable. Joaquin Phoenix dialed into his script reading and begs one to follow along. In fact I took a nap about 30 minutes in and didn’t miss a thing. Then when Luke Wilson comes out of the fog, or the Golden Fang (who cares), I knew I was had. Oh that’s right it was Owen Wilson. What a distorted noir, total con actually, I was witness to. If only they hadn’t bothered to film this movie, I wouldn’t have wasted a nap listening to the script being read. I bought the film for a quarter ($0.25) at library surplus so back to the earth it goes with this week’s rubbish.
::::For Immediate World-Wide Release::::
—Where-in Blog Impresario Evan Kerry gets his erstwhile groove back—
So I, uh, finished my first novel and if you are interested in a look, send me an email at firstname.lastname@example.org and I will send you the first few chapters for your perusal. But only if you really care about a recent graduate navigating work and life in Philadelphia in the mid – aughts.
P.S. Plenty of booze and ciggys to spare
Thanks so much,
Emily St. John Mandel receives a tepid college try from the New York Times
So a writer, the creme of the byproduct of your civilization, has garnered a prime review at nytimes.com -> here
I cannot begin to moan and wail over such an unexciting ouevre -> here
If you are at all tangentially interfered with by themillions.com then please don’t bother, however if your senses have revolted from the pitter-patter of these tiny imprints I say, go on!
The fate of this volume will be the scourge of the unchosen, those MFA’s left in its wake. If we listen closely we hear a woman who has written a thing and been gladhanded most ungallantly. However the thing is, from the review directly, not exactly worthy of an eternal flame. We read that it starts with a charge and sputters over time. Ostensibly from an idea not a set piece. Cringing I read the words on the screen thinking how much a scandal a review can be that is truly mild. It almost pains ones efforts at life to believe in a peerage of colleagues treated so. How do these people partake in this production and analysis if the end result pardons her? My weary reader, ask not and want not, these are the things that must push my pen to react. How hard must we yearn and yodel for a solid work that plods and plots itself accordingly? The meta of now is only a puddle, a puddle which seeks no greater body, that dries up and is restored to the heavens only to fall again and again with each week of this publication derelict of a sense of greater acts of creation. For when one has a vocation, we only injure ourselves when we inure against something of better wort.
For the lest to see.
Posted in Literary Hirsutes | Tagged 21st Century American Literature, America, American Fiction, American Literature, American Post-Modern Literature, Book Reviews, Genre, The Millions, The New York Times, Themillions.com | Leave a Comment »
Please check out my free, online album on Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/evankerry/sets/play-that-railroad-bill-song
It’s heavy on Banjo with a few Guitar tracks thrown in.
Brought to you by Christie’s online and forever..a gorgeous piece of work from France
online exhibit, couldn’t make the exhibition? see it online…