Monday, August 9, 2010
There is a scale of 1-10. At the left, at 1, is the honest-asshole-misogynist writer/artist/collector. He is Henry Miller, arguably Charles Bukowski. At the right is the I-pretend-I’m-sincere-but-I’m-an-asshole-misogynist-too. He is Rivers Cuomo. Every book, writer, album, movie, songwriter that hip boys have told us to like since the beginning of time has had a narrator or a protagonist who falls somewhere on this scale—though sometimes at even more extreme ends. Every Pinkerton, Catcher, Tropic of Cancer, Women, Garden State, Psychotic Reactions, (fuck, even Rushmore or Almost Famous) can basically be classified in this way.