Eggers v. Frey v. Pollack, Round....oh, yawn
Neal Pollack, apparently pissed that he's been left out of the Dave Eggers/James Frey media-attention skirmish, has thrust himself in with a resounding "hey guys, what about me?." And I know I'm just playing into his stupid scheme by reporting it, but I just can't help myself. So. here's Messr. Pollack in his blog.:
There's been much talk lately in circles where talk occurs about a young writer named James Frey. I'm tired of him already. Every five weeks or so a punk comes along and tries to cock-block my mantle when he knows full well that I am the greatest writer of my generation or any generation and that no one better captures the anguish of contemporary American male identity better than I do.
You think your appetites are bigger than mine, James Frey? You think you're a bigger rock star and a better writer than I am? Well, motherfucker, I challenge you. I want a drink. I want fifty drinks. I want a tub of acid as deep as the moon. I want a tube of glue that tastes like a dumptruck of peyote. I want a boyfriend. I want a boyfriend. I want all that stupid old shit like letters and sodas, letters and sodas. I want to be the guy with the most cake.
I want your ass, Frey. Served to me piping hot on a platter. Then I will bite it. And then I will send it back. Not because it's tough. But because it's not tough enough.
Oh, by the way, he's being, you know, totally ironic, because like, he knows that he's the self-conscious media whore that he's accusing Frey of, and like, by writing this he's taking on this persona that he's accused of, but he, like, totally knows he's doing it, and....oh, forget it. You all know the script by now. Can I drop this story already?