Its like he’s closeted, but he isn’t.

What a total fag (not the gay kind).

A funny turn of phrase, like “the most physically demanding day spa” or “the most intellectually rigorous clown college”.

Oh, I can answer that one for you. The problem is, you’re the kind of guy who likes to read IJ in bars. You do this specifically hoping to provoke reactions that will either cater to yr ego (”OMG I SO TOTALLY READ THAT BOOK DO YOU LIKE MY SHOES?”) or allow you to rush over to your favorite internet haunts and post about hilarious ways people in bars where you hang out reading just don’t get you. Does that clear things up? Hope so.

Sadly, no! See, the question that I was actually asking was re: a possible Kerouac/Rand connection, at least with regard to some overlap ( a simple Venn diagram will suffice for visualizing such) between their readerships. Instead, you seem to presume that I’m interested in your analysis of my personality, said analysis being hilariously inaccurate, although perhaps more inaccurate than hilarious. In fact, I’m just a fellow who likes a tasty, refreshing beverage with my big damn book. Nice try, though, sport!

PS I have a 20 dollar bill that says you also have a canned rant about one or all of the following:

Twenty whole dollars? American? Oh holy crap, I gotta get a piece o’ this action. Let’s break it down:

People say Pynchon is just like Wallace, but they’re nothing alike,

Sadly, no! (Again.) I regret to say that I have never finished, nor even made a decent start on, any of Mr. Pynchon’s works. I just may do that one of these first days, though, because I believe that Amazon told me that if I liked IJ I might enjoy whatever Mr. Pynchon’s latest is, and who am I to disagree with the internet?

The biggest problem in the world today is that nobody understands just how *funny* Kafka really was (Kierkegaard can also be substituted for Kafka),

Ibid., as I believe you highbrows like to say in your fancy intellectual papers! Again, don’t know too much about either one of them fellas, although I did like the story with the cockroach, although I always thought that it should have ended with him fighting crime in Prague or whatever with his cockroach powers.

and/or If you think about it, [insert movie currently popular with the New Yorker crowd] is *really* just [insert childhood cartoon] filtered through the voice of [insert prominent High Modernist writer] with a rakish [gay, hardboiled, sci-fi, romantic comedy, some monstrous combination thereof] twist.

Et le ditteaux. Dude, you just lost me with that one. Is that supposed to be college mad libs or some damn thing?

Now, then, since your Andy Jackson seems to be rather insane in the membrane, as I believe the kids like to say, with regards to my ranting œuvre, kindly allow me to relieve you of his company so that he and I can get to know each other better. I think that I’ll start by introducing him to Ariel, a charming young ecdysiast of my very recent acquaintance, who insists that she’s just doing it to earn her way through school. Maybe she’s heard of this Kierkegaard chap.

I’d substitute trepanation for phrenology here.

gal Actor212 on extruded latex novelty imagery DO NOT WANT.

Oh, I can answer that one for you. The problem is, you’re the kind of guy who likes to read IJ in bars.

The anecdote had nothing to do with the specific book being read, and you’re a tiresome asshole.

Aw, shit, Rusty gone zombie on us…

Now c’mere a minnit and let me paw yer SKULLBONE

Now I remember why I changed majors from English Lit to a hard science.

Economics?

Your money sure says a lot for something that has nothing to say. Wish its owner was of a similar bent.

Speaking of Randroids: I like to read in bars, and sometimes drunks take that as an opening to tell me what I should really read. Saturday night I was in my favorite brewpub working my way through Infinite Jest and this sloshed fellow spent some quality time insisting that I had to read The Fountainhead because–dig it, if you can–it possessed many of the qualities that made Jack Kerouac a favorite of this young man. Still trying to puzzle that one out.
#

Oh, I can answer that one for you. The problem is, you’re the kind of guy who likes to read IJ in bars. You do this specifically hoping to provoke reactions that will either cater to yr ego (“OMG I SO TOTALLY READ THAT BOOK DO YOU LIKE MY SHOES?”) or allow you to rush over to your favorite internet haunts and post about hilarious ways people in bars where you hang out reading just don’t get you. Does that clear things up? Hope so.

PS I have a 20 dollar bill that says you also have a canned rant about one or all of the following: People say Pynchon is just like Wallace, but they’re nothing alike, The biggest problem in the world today is that nobody understands just how *funny* Kafka really was (Kierkegaard can also be substituted for Kafka), and/or If you think about it, [insert movie currently popular with the New Yorker crowd] is *really* just [insert childhood cartoon] filtered through the voice of [insert prominent High Modernist writer] with a rakish [gay, hardboiled, sci-fi, romantic comedy, some monstrous combination thereof] twist.