It does sound sleazy. However, there's a Alice Munro story with a similar-ish premise, a New Yorker piece that isn't at all sleazy, so I suppose anything's possible. Probably not, though.

Psoriasis leads the protagonist to incredible bouts of self-loathing, though the flaking curbs some of the more compulsive urges toward masturbation.

This is a fair review. I'm about halfway through the book, and the comparison with C.K. is apt, though perhaps misleading. Klosterman, as an essayist, is all snark and bluster, never ashamed to discuss or name-drop any cultural artefact he's ever heard of. Sullivan, on the other hand, exudes a kind of shame at…

[crickets chirp delicately in the moonlight]

Yeah, I know. Confusing. Needs a nom de…camera, whatever that's called.

Somehow I missed that old "Satan and David Lynch" article. Pure gold:

I really like that one, too. I like the way that Spader, once asked whether he uses these videos to get off, answers "Yes" with zero hesitation or pretence of shame. That's a state to shoot for.

@avclub-1f5b519cde67ac0d0fcab419aa3048a4:disqus : I'm full of shit, you're right. Wikipedka, the greatest of all sources, puts us at #14, population-wise. Still big enough to get movies, though.

I live near Phoenix, AZ—the third-largest metro area in the country—and we didn't get either Melancholia or A Dangerous Method. Almost everywhere sucks.

That song, the script, the experience of sitting through the whole film: it's a toss-up, for me, what I like least.

Who do you think is really in the apartment with Scorcese's wife? You can't trust that loon in the back seat. Mad props, Sean.

I'm really looking forward to seeing this when it's released. This might be because I haven't seen very much of it yet.

With holograms, you can wipe the blood and come from the taxi's back seat.

Hesse: "I have this awesome truth that I've discovered, the greatest wisdom, that I'm just bursting to tell you, to tell someone, and this is just going to change the way you look at the world the way you look at everything, so just listen up, here, now, this is gonna be real good—" [book ends]

\frac{a+b^n}{n}=x, hence DFW is the greatest—reply!

Numberwang, however, was made by a collaboration between Bertram Russell and Ludwig Wittgenstein, so it obviously only doesn't make sense to you. Pleb.

In Iowa, I once watched Quintet with a group of friends, because we expected to hate it, based on reputation. I came away thinking that it was not even nearly the worst film that I'd ever seen.

Wow. That's very depressing. I used to just think that one had to be ambivalent about the on-camera animal-killing, and now there's this.

Yeah, man. I don't even have family in the area, but I'm driving to Vegas. True story.

Probably not super-helpful to title his book Burning Down My Master's House, either, then.