Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs — Part 1

As I get older, birthdays become less and less important. As a kid, I remember being shocked whenever I'd ask my dad what he wanted for his. "It's just another day . . ." he'd sigh, staring off in the distance at what I can only assume was his waning youth, before cracking open a Miller High Life and lighting a Marlboro.  Ah, childhood.

It defied every sensibility I possessed at the time not to lie awake every night for two weeks prior to the big day, dreaming of the loot I was sure to acquire if I didn't burst from anticipation. I just couldn't comprehend my father's depressing indifference.

In many respects, my 29th birthday was the worst ever — however, the trip to the dentist when I turned 10 comes close. Not only am I now watching days fly off the calendar in an irrevocable descent into Thirtydom — although according to the NY Times, 30 is the new 21. So I've got that going for me, which is nice — I spent the day slaving over a column and a feature, and the evening praying that sweet death would rescue me from my flu-like malaise. Nothing like celebrating the last birthday of your twenties with a bottle of NyQuil and a comforter . . . in July.

Physical ailments aside, gift-wise, I made out like a bandit. The crown jewel was tickets to a Sox-Yankees game at Fenway in September, but my friend Ben came through with a close second.

I'd never heard of Chuck Klosterman until Ben introduced me to Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs. Being as culturally aware as many of you are, I'm sure at least a few of you are familiar. However, I have only recently become enamored with Klosterman's witty brand of criticism. Page by page, he's becoming my favorite pop-culture analrapist. Thanks, Ben.

One of my favorite pieces of the book is the list of 23 questions he asks everyone he meets to determine if he can really love them. Since I can't make up my mind about most of you, I thought I'd give it a shot.

Question the first:

Let us assume you met a rudimentary magician. Let us assume he can do five simple tricks--he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, he can make a coin disappear, he can turn the ace of spades into the Joker card, and two others in a similar vein. These are his only tricks and he can't learn any more; he can only do these five. HOWEVER, it turns out he's doing these five tricks with real magic. It's not an illusion; he can actually conjure the bunny out of the ether and he can move the coin through space. He's legitimately magical, but extremely limited in scope and influence.

 

Would this person be more impressive than Albert Einstein?

Whaddya say, Solid State?

Comments

[casey]

OK, you're not gonna like this, but... I fucking hate Chuck Klosterman. Every so often his Esquire column is mildly amusing, but only when he lays off the lazy cultural observations and instead tells dumb stories about his dumb young adulthood in his dumb town. Either way, I find that cutesy-sarcastic tone of his annoying. I will admit, he has made me laugh from time to time. Begrudgingly, however.

I don't even think he likes metal; It's a just an ironic pose. Grrrr. Maybe I'm jealous. No wait — I'm not. I wouldn't want to be that nerdy pussbag for a million dollars.

You know who does write funny and scathing criticism? Anthony Lane. Too bad it's only about film.

Sorry. You can like Chuck. I'll still like you, even.

[casey]

He and his girlfriend watched Sid & Nancy and fought like Sid & Nancy! Wow! Did they also do The Heroin? Nope. Just drank some PBR, I'm afraid. While ironically listening to Cinderella or Whitesnake, no doubt.

Double-sorry.

[Nordstrom]

I wish I could be friends with Anthony Lane- wotta pisser! Bastard can turn a hairpin phrase and zing to the heart of the matter like few others. Sometimes his reviews make me laugh so suddenly and heartily that milk shoots out my nose.....and I'm not even drinking milk!!

[dan]

I love it when I get you all riled up, Casey. But I thought it was my cutesy sarcastic tone that landed me this here writerly gig. Is there something you're not telling me?

I think I connected with Klosterman when I read "I, Rock Chump." Something about lampooning the self-important world of rock criticism struck me as particularly poignant. Can't imagine why.

Do you guys ever read The Burn Unit in The Weekly Dig? Unfortunately, their website is under construction so I can't link to it, but it's hysterical.

[Neil]

If someone wanted to ask me 23 questions to see if I were worth his love, I'd be all "let me save you that time dude, because I already hate you."

[colin]

I go back and forth on klosterman - but some of his books did make me laugh a lot - that one you're reading and the one where he drives all over hell to rock death spots....

that one was good, too...

of course other times I shake my fist and roll my eyes... "newman!" sometimes I feel the same way about harmony korine (sp?) - did you ever read his book?

yikes...

colin
yow!

[Ari]

"Real magic"? Pfft. Albert Einstein all the way.

[jds]

no.

[ben]

if there were such a thing as "real magic" it would definitely trump Einstein. Generating a rabbit from nothing in a hat certainly disproves a lot of Einsteinian physical principles. the famous formulas could not account for such a phenomenon.

[alan]

Very nice usage of analrapist in the the blog. Not enough can be said for arrested development.

[MSD3K]

I am pretty sure that discovering that someone had actual magical abilities would make a far greater impression upon me than having Einstein explain his theories to me (which are not even entirely complete or correct as he did not believe in quantum mechanics). Although, I would be pretty impressed if Al was able to come back from the dead to do so.

[C Mo]

This Klosterman video is fantastic:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FGEUClII8x0