On the Megabus today I was reading Tao Lin's novella "Shoplifting From American Apparel." The last fourth of it happens during 2008's FEST in Gainesville and features Chris's backyard. And so I thought that was ha-ha as Pat's tents are repeatedly mentioned. And then:
I am someone. And I needed to be reminded of that today. I was extending an invite to read at the Wexner Store. Since this book is supposed to be, like, "voice of a generation," this is a little like being in The Great Gatsby or White Noise or Less Than Zero or Generation X or The Sun Also Rises or On The Road. Except it's about our generation which is markedly less interesting to read about. So instead it's a little like being in a Tao Lin book as "someone."
I also read Arthur Danto's "Andy Warhol" today. It was so boring. Like it was for a class he didn't care about. It was seemingly written for a popular audience but it's not like Arthur Danto needs to fill a Simon Schama role. You would expect him to have an amount of insight about Warhol and some diversions into philosophy, etc, but besides some slight mentions of Wittgenstein, "lebenswelt," and references to his other books, there was nothing. It was like journalism and memoir.
Then I read Terrorism: Theirs and Ours by Eqbal Ahmad at Buckeye Donuts. Delivered as a talk in the late 90s. Died before 9/11 - totes called it.