JG Ballard is no more. It's quickly dawning on me that the best authors are either long dead, extremely aged or freshly entombed. What is more bothersome than legends passing on is that for some strange reason, defying an unclear law of casuality, there seems to be nothing of value replacing them as they fall. There are already more books written than could ever be read, but the silhouette of a crested wave is always a dismal thing to behold. (43,249)
Mon Apr 20, 2009 10:44 pm Wise man once say: the only thing in life happier than a baby pig wallowing in a reeking heap of excrement is a terminally retarded frat boy.
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