. I like books
about alienated children, disaffected teenagers, existentialist
twenty-somethings, conflicted baby boomers, and tragically
disconnected seniors. I'd hate to be uninspired and predictable,
but chances are I will appreciate your
novel/essay/literarymagazine/napkinstory/rumination if these people
do these things: use violence to mask their self-hatred, do
something emblematic of significant personal change only to revert
back to their usual selves, kill themselves, decide not to kill
themselves, self-sacrifice, get painfully close to a truth everyone
else can see clearly, fall apart, carry the weight of the world on
their shoulders, realize some sort of nuance that makes all the
difference, become so entrenched in intellectualism they can no
longer communicate, or explain something about which few people
would care using too many words and too few paragraph breaks.
Movies. Once again,
movies I like can usually be predicted pretty easily. They won't
come to theaters near you, but they're also not obscure enough for
me to be so snobby about them. The boxes are covered with saturated
color blobs and pencil drawings. The ensemble cast list is long and
probably includes somebody from Magnolia, but, then again, I can't
think of many movies that don't include Phil Seymour Hoffman and
John C. Reilly. In general, people are sad, friends are mean to
each other, and nobody is satisfied by the end.
. This line of
lyrics is horrible:
I've seen better days/ I've been a star of many plays.
I wish that I could fly/Into the sky/So very high/Just like a
Do dragonflies even fly that high? Is that a thing about
Other than that, yes, I DO want you to bring your indie tour to a
somebody's basement, I WILL sing oldies at the top of my lungs with
you, I DO want another cast album of some socially conscious
musical, I WON'T treat you respectfully if your music has a twang,
and I WON'T think it's okay to be so pretentious about it, but I
WILL be pretentious nonetheless.
FOOD. I probably eat
healthier than, you know, somebody who eats sticks of transfat
dipped in sea salt. Vegetarian out, veganish in, never straying
from deep-fried, grumpy around American cheese and iceberg lettuce,
salty over sweet.