What is Hollywood, you ask, dear children? A quorum of whores babbling endlessly on about fucking while the bordello is razed for a penny arcade -- Paul Bern

Friday, September 10, 2010


It's official: 

We don’t need novelists telling us about the surfaces of being a human being. We’re bombarded with surfaces 24 hours a day now.  
 --------Jonathan "Tell em Johnny Boy is Here..." Franzen

The capitulation of the novel to reality television should bring me a sort of perverse joy. However, I suspect this post-modernist stand of principle is just a screen for the slobby laziness of today's novelists. I wish somebody better versed in the nonsense of writers would explain this to me.

Shouldn't it be more necessary for novelists to describe surfaces NOW than ever...?

They could also do worse than start where Gerhard Richter was at in the 60s...

The first time I painted from a photograph, I did so in a mixture of exhilaration and fear, partly because I was strongly affected by contemporary Fluxus events, and partly also because I once did a lot of photography myself and worked for a photographer for eighteen months: masses of photographs that passed through the bath of developer every day may have created a lasting trauma.

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