On J.G. Ballard’s Crash

A very human book, death obsessed and horny about the possibility that a person’s death could possibly mean something to eternity (as if you were creating a hero when blowing out a candle; as if there exists more than one Fire.) Every new technology brings us closer to sexual overload as it eradicates members of the population, causing us to breed. We see our own minds turned inside out and manifested on this planet and we want to fuck it (the planet and the manifestation.)

Hail the books that are not easy to read in public, those that cause you to laugh cum into your pants out of disgust.

One thought on “On J.G. Ballard’s Crash

  1. So many stained work pants causing librarians to catalog me in various impersonal and very personal ways. If you want a surreal moment they may make you wish Philip K Dick would kill you, try reading Alissa Nutting’s Tampa on an airplane next to a 12-year old boy with your same name that won’t stop playing with the crotch of his jeans.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s