That would be my latest read, "Life," by Keith Richards of the Stones. I would never believed it. Guy is an artist, an engaging raconteur, a writer, civilized, uncouth, a gentleman and a pirate. In other words, everything I aspire to be. I was always a Beatles boy, never listened to the Stones. Now I've reached a diabolical new adolescence, and I'm so over Sir Paul McArtney. Highly recommend it, couldn't put it down. You couldn't tell where the ghost began and Richards started. I suspect the ghost simply framed the narrative and did a damn good job. Sad to reach the last page which ended with "this shit's ain't gonna ever end." I'm paraphrasing. But it made me wish, in the age of phony transmedia, that someone with the capabilities and connections and know-how would launch a real-time project entitled "On Being Keith Richards." He spares no one, not even himself.
Oh, here's my little bit of memoir about Gore Vidal. A wicked man, too wicked for his wit. Courageous though. I had written him years ago for some reason at his villa in Italy. Sent it via Fed Ex. He wrote me back complaining there was insufficient postage and would I remit him the extra that he had to pay the mailman for receiving the Fed Ex? For some reason, I can't remember why, I read his handwritten scrawl by candlelight, and would you believe his letter caught on fire? I've got half a letter, charred at the top and edges, by Gore Vidal. How much do you think I could charge for it on eBay? From Vidal with Venom.
Causes Alexander Besher Supports
Médecins Sans Frontières; anything to do with children and animals; The World Court in the Hague. (One can still dream in this fascistocracy, can't they...