No Mo' Chick-Lit

A while back, I used this post to rant about idiotic authors and the book clubs who love them.

Now the New York Times is on the dysfunctional book club case.  "More book clubs means more acrimony..." opines the Times, never one to miss a trend, even one encouraged by its own blitheringly idiotic book reviews;

"Yes, it’s a nice, high-minded idea to join a book group, a way to make friends and read books that might otherwise sit untouched. But what happens when you wind up hating all the literary selections — or the other members? Breaking up isn’t so hard to do when it means freedom from inane critical commentary, political maneuvering, hurt feelings, bad chick lit and even worse chardonnay."

The Times' book review authors, themselves wellsprings of inane critical commentary, have a great time setting up lotsa people to mock when things go awry.  If they (and their fawning accomplice Her Royal Oprahness) would stop promoting so many kooky, shallow, weird authors, book clubs might do something substantive for a change...besides serving a better class of wine.

But then who would effete New York snobs make fun of?  "HAHAHAHAHAH!  We told you Margaret Atwood had something to say...NOT!  Fooled ya again ya flyover hicks! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAA!"

I'm in the camp of "...more wine, less whine, avoid the Times."