March 10, 2002


Was surfing around on the Net wildly, being Sunday and my day off there was no work pressure to spoil the show. So I indulged a bit and came upon a few of my favourite writers.

It has been a long time since I had read anything on Hanif Kureishi. He is gulity of being extraordinarily gross with some of his works that falls into the pulp genere. But I have to admit some of his works like My son the fanatic has a touch of class to it. Even his grossness can be seen as surrealism put in a crude way. Here is Guardian's take on him.

There's something anodyne about even his best work; it has the cerebral coldness of a crossword or mathematical puzzle. This is the way the Guardian chooses to describe Julian Barnes. And I cannot agree more. Barnes essentially is someone like Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits fame, both having the common thread of extreme self indulgence producing real quality material.

After Black Hawk Down and countless other jingoistic crap in the shadow of 9/11 this was just waiting to happen. Yes, according to Hollywood and Mel Gibson Vietnam [We Were Soldiers] was a just war and poor yanks were proudly dying for their country. Blargh!

Fifteen Sexual Spaces Recalled Good take :-)