At times, he is diverted by insider punning and overly dense allusions — too much so, for example, in the opening of “Knee-Deep in the Alien Corn,” an essay from When the Kissing Had to Stop, in which he writes, “Forget Seinfeld — a cheese doodle of urban fecklessness in which, to every penis joke, the white bread slackers wore a prophylactic smirk.”There was too much like that, too many names dropped, too much over-the-top tapdancing for my taste. But I never lost respect for him, and I'm sorry he's gone—the man loved good writing and good writers with all his heart, he called it like he saw it, and we can't afford to lose critics like that. He wasn't wrong that good criticism in popular venues is fading fast away.
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at least I'm a year behind in reading my Harper's issues, so I've got quite a bit of him left to read.
posted by LionIndex at 1:55 PM on November 6, 2008