Fat Greeks Trumpet

THE FOODS OF GREECE ARE THE RICHEST IN THE MEDITERRANEAN. An assertion in the Olive and the Caper

Reviewers play a sucker's game, and Pelecanos plays to populist liberal sentiment for its fools gold, as I too for a time fell to kindle crazed herd mentality and downloaded every piece of shit Amazon threw in my face, not that George is as bad as some of the pablum I deleted from my digital archive in the cloud. Nothing is worse than the Christian genre. Not Catholic, but popular Evangelical thriller authors. They should be shot for turning linguistic intricacy into maggots breeding on mold.. Pelecanos isn't that. He has an agenda, the desire to illustrate that eagles and penguins are basically the same, and when he was the vogue appetizer of the week in the established media, much was made of the fact that Pelecanos had a black protagonist named Derek Strange. So the dowager chased a bit of tail. No one likes every genre they buy, and noooooooo, I ain't the kind of writer who can talk about Maglites and soul radio and offer readers a penile fixation with the heirs to the Camaro, but George's mancave approach to DC crime and illicit activity shows me exactly how I will not play to formula if enough of my brain cells survive to try my idea. 

Fuck commercialism, fuck the formula, and as I'm over over tired with swollen feet and tingling ankles we'll reserve my discontent for another day, but the Strange franchise title I have is Right As Rain. In comparison to the myriad black authors I've read in my half century of years, Pelecanos's authenticity is a self conscious joke. Alice Walker may have bristled at everything, but if she was among the minority literati who bristled at what George appropriated, you can pass the word to the diva of purple I'll be glad to assist if she wants to string this whitey up and toggle his inner sanctum up a bit. I will now never watch The Wire. Ever, because this man's presumption is beyond the very bounds of any known universe. I hate idiots. I hate stupidity, but more than that, the air of knowing self-righteousness makes Mussolini come off as a saint. I forbid anyone to talk to me, to recommend anything by Pelecanos. After I finish this detective novel, Comey won't have enough resources to chase me down with a federal warrant. Now my overwhelmed aching frame is off to bed.