Art is grand, but most writers and musicians have forgotten what art is. Saying that art is dead is passé, every generation does that; but it seems every generation is somehow right. Name me a recently written book that has enough passion and innovation to give new reason for living. Try to recall a movie from the last decade that has made you look up and say, "goddamn, no one has ever made anything like this before, and I am jealous!" (Let us think of Evangelion and smile every so often.) Play me a song not written by Jeff Mangum (thank God for Jeff Mangum) that brings some previously unknown part of you to tears. Extra points if the song is not by John Darnielle, or Bob fucking Dylan.

Where is our D. motherfucking H. Lawrence? Our Fyodor grandholyshit Dostoyevsky? Our Franz shitlicking Kafka? (My, what kind of people will find this page through Google?) Our Gustav cocksucking Flaubert? They do not exist! People aren't even named Fyodor, Franz, Gustav, or D.H. anymore! How can we have artists with such mundane names as Chuck, David, or Neal. We can't.

My God, I have just spent an hour looking through reccomendations Amazon has made based on my account, rating stuff, clicking on "I own it" or "Not interrested" . . . how addicting and sad.