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4/06/2005

Read on my boy, Read on.

I've been reading Hunter S Thompson: Kingdom Of Fear for the last couple of days.

So far it has been a very strange and savage look into the life of Hunter through his own eyes. At times it is a frighteningly funny fiasco which blasts along at the speed of light and at other times it is a sad and savage tale of woe.

These are the reasons I love to read the Good Dr's words. You may not know the destination or the means of travel, but you know you're going to arrive with bleeding fingertips and sharp pains in your sides. Which, I imagine, is how Hunter would have wanted it. I'm sure there were occasions when he himself suffered both of these things. And worse.

The next book I'll be reading is "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" by Ken Kesey. Which I have read before at least twice but is always a great read. After that I'm stuck for choice. I have still to read "Bill Hicks; Agent of Evolution" by Kevin Booth & Michael Bertin and also "On The Road" by Jack Kerouac.

I'll be taking "On the Road" to Africa with me, as I have a powerful lust to read Kerouac while sitting drinking rum on the beach. I read "On the Road" once before when I was about 17 and remember it being a wonderful piece of prose that lit up places within my spirit that had never seen the light before. Africa, I'm sure, will only add to the enjoyment of the book.

I've also got four other books to read in the coming weeks that a friend gave me. They are...
  • Killing The Shadows. Val McDermid
  • Good News Bad News. David Wolstencroft.
  • Camberwell Beauty. Jenny Eclair.
  • Somebody Someday. Robbie Williams.
I'm not expecting anything remarkable from these books but I may be surprised. Not by the Robbie Williams one anyway, I fully expect that to be nothing more than page after page after page of ego rubbing autobiographical bullshit.

The Jenny Eclair one doesn't look like a whole barrel of laughs either. When I read the first couple of chapters I felt very much like hunting her down and putting the author out her misery with a swift kick to the head... Ho ho. I'm kidding. I wouldn't do that. I'd run her over while she went for her morning newspaper... Robbie Williams is another thing. I'd feed him into a tree shredder at a very slow pace. Along with every recording he has ever made.

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