there's this talking snake, and a naked chick

and your sky is on fire 🔥

• I recently scored a copy of the Nan Goldin classic, The Ballad of Sexual Dependency. Pound for pound the greatest photography book in my library. It is nice to have nearby as I write this.

• The 1974 album Get Up With It by Miles Davis is the perfect smoke huffing soundtrack. End-of-times music. Robert Christgau thought it was overrated. Background music at best. He can go get fucked.

• The Twilight World by Werner Herzog is fun to read during the in-between times. Dripping wet trudge through the rainforest on just a little bit of mushrooms. Hazy and dreamlike. Over before you know it. Maybe a metaphor for life?

• LIV Golf and the PGA tour merging is easily the strangest sports story of my lifetime.

• Much ado about Tomorrow, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow. As usual, I run the other way when something reaches critical mass. Once again, I’ve been proven wrong. I thought it was good and fun. 7.2/10. It will probably be a Hulu ten episode series soon.

• The greatest record of all time, Darkness on the Edge of Town, turned 45 this week. Let’s go Racing in the Street.

• Relax. Apple watches are still not cool. And only 14% of US adults have tried ChatGPT.

• I would rather watch an hour long YouTube video of…nothing.

Someone near and dear recently corrected my grammar. It was a simple you/your/you’re situation. My command of the english language ain’t perfect, but I surely thought I had that one figured. Anyway.

(slowly crumples paper MFA application into a ball and tosses across room at waste basket. misses)

The whole intention of this here newsletter was for me to bring you thoughts on books, images, and writing. The first Weekend Guide post on August 28th in the year of our lord 2020 looked wildly different than the current iteration. Variety is the spice of life.

Not everything I read is worth writing something about — that’s sort of where I’ve been. Distracted. Uninspired. Full of life, sure. But feeing a bit disinterested in the idea of the novel. Reading an Emily Henry book can really zap your faith in the art form — as well as the human race. But I digress.

This is me talking about books:

Talking snakes. Naked chicks. Simple as that. I would love to be able to provide the headies each week — neatly tie-in my feelings on a novel you’ve never heard of with some grander theme on the current state of affairs, but that is not always where it’s at. Life moves in mysterious ways.

Remember. This is the new summer of love. Be free. Be wild. Read a book about a talking snake and a naked chick. A Feast of Snakes by Harry Crews is a good place to start. Then maybe the bible if you’re in the mood to get nasty. Shotgun a high life and run into the ocean. Peace and love. See you on the other side.