Posts Tagged ‘nachos’

wistfulness: or the last time I will shoot a book for HTML Giant, theoretically.

Thursday, October 9th, 2014

loaded with tufts like a dogwood or 14 critics

Wednesday, April 27th, 2011

12. Fucking A! Aimee Bender is interviewed about women and drinking.

It was a surprise for me after college to realize I didn’t hate beer, which I had assumed I hated, which cut off a lot of options.

9. Roger Ebert is a badass and just won New Yorker caption contest.

9. Bullet in the Brain is online here. It has typos but who gives a fuck. It has many technical flourishes. It has “moves.” You should read it and then pass it on or disrespect it or yawn or make some comment about critics. I am working a theme here, all crow, etc.

11.

“I made a mistake in writing an essay called ‘The Pleasures of the Difficult,'” Mr. Baumbach said.

13. At the store, do you prefer self-checkout, self-bagging, or is it ethically wrong? What exactly made the dandelion an enemy flower? Why do weathermen despair the rain? You can learn to talk wisely about a nice house or you can learn to build a house. Red Bull makes you an individual, except for the drinking Red Bull thing. Do you aim while peeing? Who chose what would one day be labeled white noise?

14. On the issue:

I’ve always felt those articles somehow reveal more about the writers than they do about me.

Marilyn Monroe.

Sean Lovelace knows nothing about nachos

Wednesday, October 28th, 2009

nachos11_03_06

Anybody who happens to have bumped into the words or online speaking of Sean Lovelace (author of the recently released How Some People Like Their Eggs, which is fantastic and very smart (that will be my last positive reference to Mr. Lovelace in this post)) knows the dude really wants you to know that he loves nachos. It’s hard to get through a week of his blogging without at least some kind of reference to it, and to how much he loves them, etc., etc. He’s even published essays on the subject, including one in the David Foster Wallace memorial issue of Sonora Review.

To me, though, Lovelace’s endless tirading about the food seems overbloated, and in some ways insecure. It seems the food-language equivalent of truck nuts:

nuts

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