I am now reading Chuck Palahniuk's latest book "Pygmy." Although I have read almost everything that Palahniuk has written, I'm afraid it doesn't hold my interest. (For those who are interested, I did not make it through "Diary" and never attempted "Snuff." All the other fiction, I enjoyed although not necessarily to equal degrees. Of his non-fiction, I've read some although, again, I did not finish it. I learned that Portland ickiness resembles Schenectady ickiness and that was enough for the moment.)
How little does "Pygmy" hold my interest? I keep forgetting that I'm reading it. In other words, I set it down and it's not until I happen to see it again that I remember that I am reading it and should continue.
Sad. I expected to enjoy it as the idea of foreigners who come to America but hate it even though they are not able to grasp it, truly holds promise and touches many things in my experience. Alas! Some things just don't turn out as good as they looked.
By the way, I finally saw the film "Choke" on DVD and enjoyed it, although of course it did not have the in-your-face "think about this now" impact of "Fight Club." But it wasn't bad. (And it starred Anjelica Huston, a woman who is probably no relation but could possible be about a fourth cousin perhaps.)
Still, just in case people wonder, I am undoubtedly cool as I am listening to the Gang of Four and Devo 2.0 as I write.
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