My beard is so long, my aunt asks me if I’m breeding fleas to start a flea circus.
No, I say, I breed them to carry the pest and decimate our home town. Since most of our home town wants to decimate itself by consuming gallons and gallons of alchohol, I figure fleas and pest will do us all a favour, and for much less money.
My beard doesn’t seem to be such a fertile ground for flea breeding, so in the mean time, I meet people.
Like Dominique Biebau for instance.
Who buys me lunch. Not naked lunch, Indian Curry lunch, and manages to say ‘this isn’t charity’ and acutally make me believe it. In times of crisis the bum has the added benefit of having people treat him to stuff, just so the non-bums feel like they aren’t being affected by the crisis. In this respect I had a very productive bum day. We saw the birth of a literary magazine today. It’s called Balzack and will cater to the needs of men who like to read and are none too happy with the feminization of our literary establishment. We need spunk, sarcasm, cynicsm, cruel jokes, politically incorrect oneliners, and anything that will get us a court case for riotous libel. I wasn’t wearing lenzes. Couldn’t see where I was going. Saw barely enough to catch the right trains. Not through the front, though through the doors, which isn’t fashionable these days, even a bit passé.
I read ‘Model Behaviour’ by Jay McInerney on the train. It held some wonderful oneliners such as:
‘Beware the woman who doesn’t like other women; she’s probably generalizing from her own character.’
And all in all it was a kloon of the novel ‘Bright Lights, Big City’, by the same author. I liked that one immensely, so I also liked this one. And as soon as I feel like it, I’ll make a list with the ten biggest differences between the two, if any. I would recommend the novel to any one who has a degree in languages, first of all because a person with a degree in languages has plenty of free time to read a novel. And second of all because the main character holds a degree in languages and is at a loss what to do with it. At some point he calls himself ‘a casualty of privilege’. Just like they put warnings on sigarettes, they should put warning on majoring in literature and languages. Big shiny ones, but with very poorly written warnings, otherwise I’m sure they’ll have the opposite effect. In fact, any warning about the dangers of studying literature would attract the literary inclined even more, as literature students are bloodless kamikaze seekers, with too much fondness of wearing tweed jackets.
But still, people inclined to go and study literature: study something else or start a business, or hitch-hike around the world, but reserve literature to plug the gaps in your free time arrangements.