i started reading this book by chuck klosterman. chuck klosteman is a senior writer at Spin magazine and columnist for Esquire. he has written for countless newspapers as well.
chuck klosterman is a god.
although i am only on page 32 of this hilarious satire on pop culture, i know this book is going to be great.
"What matters is that Coldplay manufactures fake love as frenetically as the Ford fucking Motor Company manufactures Mustangs, and that’s all this woman heard. "For you I bleed myself dry," sang their blockhead vocalist, brilliantly informing us that the stars in the sky are, in fact, yellow. How am I going to compete with that shit? That sleepy-eyed bozo isn’t even making sense. He’s just pouring fabricated emotions over four gloomy guitar chords, and it ends up sounding like love."