Ok, you gotta help me out here. I'm in the shop alone, day after day. There's no Adam to bounce things off...
On the way in this morning I think I observed two examples of delusional behaviour. See what you think.
A woman walking a scrawny piece of mongrel junk is hailed by a friend from across the road.
"Is that your dog?"
The woman with the dog crosses over the road.
"Yeah, I got him from Battersea Dogs Home."
"Oh, he's lovely."
"Stop that Bernie!" (The dog is trying to shag her friend's leg)
How is that lovely? Was the woman not clearly deluded? Since when has shagging the legs of total strangers been lovely?
Am I missing something? Are they not simply a crime against humanity? A fashion error even the most illiterate fashionistas (I look like a crumpled mess of corduroy and babysicksplattered shirts mostly - I also like wearing my football shirt in the garden) can spot.
I saw someone wearing them on my way in and asked myself the question I always ask when I see these awful shoes - what the F8ck do you think you're doing!
So whaddayareckon? Is it me or is reading the new Denis Johnson pushing me close to the edge?
I find great literature pushes me close to the edge of sanity. Dostoevsky does it to me every time. Denis too. Tree of Smoke is a masterpiece. A great novel. (I think these books unbalance me because I see what writing is all about, how good it can be. Simultaneously I understand that I will never achieve such literary heights and somethng in me gets mad!) Yes, it's official, Dr Rick and I agree - Denis Johnson's Tree of Smoke is the novel he was born to write. From the paranoia and mayhem of the Vietnam jungle, where CIA Psy Ops are trying to turn the VC tunnel system into "a region of hell" Johnson extracts truths about the American psyche that are surely also relevant to our own view of the world?
Awesome stuff. What every novel should be. I think...or is Dr Rick (he's not my shrink - he's into skin diseases) right and DJ is destined to remain a niche man, a writer's writer (yuk) for all time?