Summer of Jest

Making IJ My Bitch

Thanks to the foxy Christina, I learned of the existence of the Summer of Jest.

It’s tempting to do this. There is perhaps the most brilliant group of words put down in literary history since Dostoevsky’s “The Grand Inquisitor” in The Brothers Karamazov: Wallace’s description of the game of Eschaton.

But there are a couple of problems. First is that I have something akin to 500 books in queue to read. The next is that I have the summer of the Dodgers to contend with, and if you have been following you know shit is about to go down.

As you see in my celebratory fake-fucking of the book in the picture above, I finished the book a couple of years ago. I really do want to re-read it. Perhaps…?