I cheated myself,
Like I knew I would,
I told you I was trouble,
You know that I’m no good
I’ve been told I live like I’m living in a movie. I was told that when I was with Jessica by Jessica and I resented her for it at the time, but lately I realized that she might have been so far away from the truth. Only, I realized I lived vicariously through books, not celluloid.
I’ve never been so absorbed by a nonfiction book like I have with Chuck Klosterman’s Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story. It’s a book “about love, death, driving, narcissism, America, the ill-advised glamorization of recreational drug use, not having sex, eating bread sticks at Olive Garden, talking to strangers, feeling nostalgic for the extremely recent past, movies you’ve never seen, KISS, Radiohead, Rod Stewart, and—to a lesser extent—prehistoric elephants of the Midwestern plains” (v).
From reading this book, I’ve learned a few essential things that all people who live in this country and love rock ‘n’ roll should know:
- Radiohead’s Kid A is eeriely the anthem of 9/11.
- Chuck Klosterman’s not a serious guy and it makes me feel that, like with Wonderboys, I’m doomed to be just like him.
- Kurt Cobain never slept under any goddamn bridge, but it’s okay that he was lying to us because he was a rock star.
- Kurt Cobain was an asshole.
- Rock stars die tragically (and at times, ironically).
- Any rock star who doesn’t die tragically doesn’t mean serious business.
- Drugs are fun and Spin has two factions of people – those who use cannabis and those who use cocaine.
- I’m never going to try cocaine because, unlike Klosterman, my heart probably will explode.
- Driving alone seems rather lonely, except when you have apparitions of women you love hanging out with you, arguing how you don’t get an Eric Clapton song.
- I quite possibly have Cotard’s syndrome.
Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you. It’s understanding the unreasonable. (217)