July 31, 2015 by ethelfritha
What is it about this book? Is it the dated, cynical, wink wink nudge nudge witticisms the author throws around like your drunk uncle at the family reunion? Is it the essentially banal content based on speculation, word association, and dazzlingly wide leaps of logic? Maybe it’s the fact that his entire frame of reference seems to be gutter level or lower. You are not a fucking frat boy. You do not need to read sexual perversion into the line “this old man, he played three, he played knick-knack on my knee.” It’s a strange thing to feel the need to say to someone who has written a book about nursery rhymes, but I’ll say it anyway: grow up.