Just some quick references for myself. A lot of my work for the next three months will be focused on the battle of Blair Mountain.
A story from CNN about the danger faced by our malls. My question: if we lose the malls, will we have anywhere to go in the coming zombie apocalypse?
“One of the biggest consequences [of store and mall closings] is the loss of a sense of community,” Birnbrey said. “I am a big believer that malls are an essential part of Americana. A mall is a place where people gather and socialize.”
Exactly the sentiment everytime I walk into the mall surrounded by teens with disposable incomes. Must. Keep. Shopping.
A series of questions about that shoe incident the other day.
In the effort to provide you, dear reader, with more content, I’m trying out a new method of posting. This entry is a test of that system. Aside from that, move along. Nothing to see.
Why does it feel like this is far too acurate? I suspect that we’ll be seeing it in future issues of our favorite magazines.
I’m probably behind in finding out about this (stupid grad school), but apparently Pynchon has a new book coming out next year called Inherent Vice. From the description I found here:
It’s been awhile since Doc Sportello has seen his ex-girlfriend. Suddenly out of nowhere she shows up with a story about a plot to kidnap a billionaire land developer whom she just happens to be in love with. Easy for her to say. It’s the tail end of the psychedelic sixties in L.A., and Doc knows that “love” is another of those words going around at the moment, like “trip” or “groovy,” except that this one usually leads to trouble. Despite which he soon finds himself drawn into a bizarre tangle of motives and passions whose cast of characters includes surfers, hustlers, dopers and rockers, a murderous loan shark, a tenor sax player working undercover, an ex-con with a swastika tattoo and a fondness for Ethel Merman, and a mysterious entity known as the Golden Fang, which may only be a tax dodge set up by some dentists.
In this lively yarn, Thomas Pynchon, working in an unaccustomed genre, provides a classic illustration of the principle that if you can remember the sixties, you weren’t there . . . or . . . if you were there, then you . . . or, wait, is it . . .
Obviously a bit of a switch up from Against the Day, but given the character of Lew Basnight, I can see a certain continuation of theme happening as he goes into a detective novel.
I can’t wait to play spot the Bodine.