kidchamp dot net

06.01.05

the season finale of the OC is, say, half responsible for my reading chuck klosterman's sex, drugs, and cocoa puffs this weekend. adam brody reminded me of its existence, but i'd had a copy in my aforementioned pile of free stuff from a friend. i think that's where it came from, anyway: in the past few years i've acquired three extra copies of infinite jest, origins utterly unknown.

as it happens, this was an appropriate way to get my hands on SDCP. it's solid weekend reading, but i can think of more satisfying ways to spend $20. his essays follow the template i beat to death as a college columnist (and, let's be honest, as a blogger): non sequitur intro, mildly provocative personal anecdote, pop trivia, comment on Our Life and Times, return to non sequitur. this is by no means revolutionary - a lot of people do this very well - but it's never reminded me of my own crap before. this was like the first day of high school when the vice principal followed the public speaking walking pattern we'd learned in eighth grade. point being...formula detracts from klosterman's points, some of which (the piece toward the end on journalists and truth, for instance) are quite good. i'll cop to being titillated when he name checked douglas - no argument, he's awesome - but i didn't need thirty seven mentions of the fact that douglas drank orange juice at a seattle pop conference, even if they're supposedly part of a larger point about the disconnect between critics and musicians. by all means, chuck, tell us that your friend danced with a serial killer at a bar; don't end your essay with something to the effect of "let's dance, cowboy." that's what i do when i'm writing like an asshat.

in kittenwar news, this is how our own charles bronson has performed in 1072 battles:

won: 338 (32%)
lost: 605 (56%)
drawn: 129 (12%)