Краснодарцы сожгли на Масленицу книги Генри Миллера
Who these fine, bare-chested young men are, are, self-described "Pagan anti-Librarians" from Krasnodar (Southern Russia) who conceive it to be their duty to burn offensive books (as anti-librarians are wont to do), in this case the collected novels of Henry Miller, which, they say, being just (heterosexual) filth from end to end, are uneditable. Right on, O Revolutionary anti-Librarians! Might I suggest that their next bonfire include the works of William Burroughs, Anaïs Nin, and James Joyce's Ulysses and Finnegan'sWake. And maybe, while they're at it, Lady Chatterly's Lover and Lolita. Nasty, heterosexual rubbish it all is, with no redeeming literary value, in my humble opinion. But I urge them, please, to except Howl from their holocausts, and Gilgamesh.
I burn hot. I tend to exhaust people in conversation, like Margaret Fuller did Carlyle. Which leaves me (but apparently not Margaret) always wishing I'd shut up sooner. I have quite a few friends and not many enemies, but I'm very proud of the few I do have. There is consensus among my friends about me, which is how I know to write about myself. What my enemies think of me I have no idea. That, of course, could be dangerous.
The list of interests and favorites is absurdly partial and half-assed, particularly as to music and books. It's the stupid format of the blog itself, as given, that, of course, I color outside the lines and burst the seams of.
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