You seldom see such frank admissions of weakness from a reviewer. It's too bad about his decline in reading ability, though. I wonder if he also used to write better?
At my small college in Arkansas, one of the curmudgeonly English professors used to give dramatic readings from this book that would leave everyone howling with laughter. When he died recently, I looked up the book to see whether it was still in print. Anyway, buy it, and find the poem about the Brussels sprouts. It's a gem to brighten your day. This does make me wonder whether I know you, though.
Observations from an old cranky jerk who happens to be a professional philosopher. Occasionally philosophical, most often just vulgar. Sometimes focused on sober points of logic and issues in political theory, but more frequently fixed on nonsense. Bad metal bands, crappy guitarists, stupid lyrics, celebrities, pop "culture," telemarketers, irrationality, and other annoyances. Always misanthropic. Anti-religious. Not particularly amusing, either. Some might say insulting. Strange mail. Kook magnet. Doom. Comments from other cranky jerks, young and old.
3 comments:
Ahh, J. H. Beter. One of the better authors of the last century, albeit with a penchant for bloated prose.
You seldom see such frank admissions of weakness from a reviewer. It's too bad about his decline in reading ability, though. I wonder if he also used to write better?
At my small college in Arkansas, one of the curmudgeonly English professors used to give dramatic readings from this book that would leave everyone howling with laughter. When he died recently, I looked up the book to see whether it was still in print. Anyway, buy it, and find the poem about the Brussels sprouts. It's a gem to brighten your day. This does make me wonder whether I know you, though.
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