I was Googling for some data on racial discrimination legislation in Japan (my working life is soooo rich and fulfilling) and came upon this, um, interesting review of Norweigan Wood (sic).
"I wonder if the book starts off so shit because it was originally in Japanese and loses it's (sic) full effect through the translation, or just because it wasn't that good a book anyhow," opines the author, one 'Kris', before concluding, "well, for me it just didn't seem to have much more life in it as a bowl of toe-nail clippings." Fortunately, he appears to give up on Murakami at this point, handing over to his colleague Zac Craven, who informs us that A Wild Sheep Chase is "a very strange book." Thanks Zac.
But Kris isn't done; he's just put his film critic's hat on, complaining that The Scent of Green Papaya has "no babes dude" and that "you would be better off spending those 2 hours taking a dump."
I was going to offer a post about the open market on ideas provided by blogging, unfettered by commercial considerations, or editorial scruples, or intelligence, or even spellchecks. But I won't bother just now, ta. Like Kris, I've got better uses for my time.
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