Cognito Ergo Scribo

Before I describe this latest read of mine, I would like the opportunity to recognize the contribution of social networking sites. All those priceless hours just whaling away while browsing on some ridiculous posts on random communities, most of which you are not even remotely interested in – Those hours do pay off. For me,after wasting my time of blissfully on internet for couple of long years, it paid off when I cam across quite a recommendation of books.
And who wouldn’t be curious to know about a book as flirtatiously titled as “Sex Drugs and Cocoa Puffs “

A little googling about the book would indeed inform you that its a conversational book. The whole book seems to be one long conversation with our funny, weird and creative author. Also this title seems to be great way to start a conversation or commit social suicide.
Please don’t pick up this book unless you a re fairly aware of most of the names listed in its Index, because almost all the chapters deal with quite a few pop(ular) culture references – so If everytime John Cusack or The X files or mixed tapes reference occurs and you need to google – the book might take a lot of your time
Being done with the unpleastery warnings, those who still are reading know the goodies are here. First of all this book is ridiculous funny, it is ridiculousl funny but what I insist is it is funny and ridiculous and hence forth addictive
You wonder how can a guy dedicate a whole chapter to philosopihy through a video game of SIMS, but then you read about a little manifesto against Soccer and you are ready to accept anything – its is fun indeed.

Here I strongly recommend this collection of 18 essays by Chuck Klosterman , your introduction to a low culture manifesto , to the like minded.

Ah yes, some excerpts:

It’s no one’s fault, really. Or maybe it’s everyone’s fault. It should be everyone’s fault, because it’s everyone’s problem. Well, okay…not everyone. Not boring people, and not the profoundly retarded. But whenever I meet dynamic, nonretarded Americans, I notice that they all seem to share a single unifying characteristic: the inability to experience the kind of mind-blowing, transcendent romantic relationship they perceive to be a normal part of living. And someone needs to take the fall for this. So instead of blaming no one for this (which is kind of cowardly) or blaming everyone (which is kind of meaningless), I’m going to blame John Cusack.

I once loved a girl who almost loved me, but not as much as she loved John Cusack. Under certain circumstances, this would have been fine; Cusack is relatively good-looking, he seems like a pretty cool guy (he likes the Clash and the Who, at least), and he undoubtedly has millions of bones in the bank. If Cusack and I were competing for the same woman, I could easily accept losing. However, I don’t really feel like John and I were “competing” for the girl I’m referring to, inasmuch as her relationship to Cusack was confined to watching him as a two-dimensional projection, pretending to be characters who don’t actually exist. Now, there was a time when I would have thought that detachment would have given me a huge advantage over Johnny C., inasmuch as my relationship with this woman included things like “talking on the phone” and “nuzzling under umbrellas” and “eating pancakes.” However, I have come to realize that I perceived this competition completely backward; it was definitely an unfair battle, but not in my favor. It was unfair in Cusack’s favor. I never had a chance.