A few years ago I started to read Ranier Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet but I quickly set it aside because I found it boring and trite. I attribute this reaction to the well-documented fact that I have no soul. Given the childish delight I take in word-replacement memes, I thought it would be funny to write a book called Letters to a Young Asshole:
No one can advise or help you - no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to be an asshole; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to be an asshole. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I be an asshole? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse.
Goodness knows plenty of people seem to do this already.
Monday, September 10, 2007
The Back cover:
The Best-Laid Plans
Jenna McCue wants a baby and she wants Spencer Smith to be the father...or rather the donor. Jenna assures the renowned adventurer and avowed bachelor she needs nothing from him - just his sperm. Spencer agrees, but on one condition: he "donates" the old-fashioned way.
When Jenna doesn't conceive as planned, she and Spencer must try - and try- again. And by the time Jenna is expecting, she's fallen hopelessly in love. But telling Spencer she's pregnant will mean never seeing him again. That's part of the deal. Or is it?
Posted by Aishwarya at 8:32 AM