Every so often one comes across the blog run by someone competent enough in writing that a mere Twitter mention seems inadequate, like throwing a brick to fill a sinkhole. Not a small sinkhole, but the one that just devoured your shack of a house and your rich, overbearing neighbor’s fleet of Hummers and his Yorkie’s fleet of Hummers.
So it is with Jesse Pearson. I mean, c’mon:
Stephen King is a coiled spring of cocaine psychosis here. Total compacted rage and paranoia. Read the part where Annie chops off Paul’s leg with an ax, then flip the book over and lock eyes with King for a second. If we could add a soundtrack of discordant horns and violin-stabs to this photo… Gesamtkunstwerk.
Note for fellow office drones: in the linked post there is a non-pornographic photograph of Patricia’s Highsmiths. Click and enter to win an unemployment check.