Allison Unfiltered: In which the hype around Oprah gets its due

So I just finished reading Chad Kultgen's novel the average american male. Oh, yes I did.

Actually, I finished it last night, and I haven't been able to get it out of my head or stop talking to anybody I meet about it (or, even, in some cases, paging people about it).

And do you know how long it's been since I read a book that I actually told people about? (Blogging doesn't count.) Really long. REEEAAALLLY long. That's how long.

This is one filthy-mouthed, balls-to-the-wall, sleazy strip joint book. And I can't quite figure out why just yet, but I want to dry-hump it. I'm sad it's over, but no worries -- Kultgen just released another book, the lie. Yay for sloppy seconds.

While it wasn't actually part of the story, the acknowledgments in which Kultgen simultaneously thanks his parents for their support and apologizes? The perfect ending.

The plot isn't quite as important as the way kultgen writes the narrator: as a totally cynical 20-something asshole who can't help but think about jerking off and getting laid every 20 minutes (on a slow day), and hates his girlfriend of the fat ass. Y'know, kinda like the punchline of every male-bashing joke ever told come to life. Genius, I say. Genius.

And also a little disturbing, 'cause you know some people will take it as true-to-life description, and others will take it as total parody. Me? I think it's a fucking good novel, with possibly the only misogynistic asshole protagonist I could ever respect... a little.

Here's one of my favorite passages... wherein the narrator is stuck at a bookstore waiting to get his girlfriend's book signed by Marie Osmond, and the only thing available to browse through at the moment is a copy of O magazine:

    She reads it for the next fifteen minutes while we wait. I read it over her shoulder and these are the results:
    Pictures of Oprah: Twenty-two (including her standard cover appearance).
    "Articles" "written" by Oprah: Six (including the O magazine staple "What I Know for Sure," in which Oprah lies about how hard her life is and hammers home how much more spiritual she is than the average person).
    Uses of the phrase "Self-realization": Ninety-four (in thirteen different "articles").
    Ads for Oprah-related products: Seven (including one for Dr. Phil's show).
    Paragraphs containing poorly veiled condescension: Four hundred sixty-three.
    Impulses to ram the magazine up Oprah's cunt: One (that lasts for the entire fifteen minutes I stare at O).