Chuck Klosterman appears to have camped out in my brain again, as once more he's taken the thoughts out of my head and written them up far better than I ever could. Reading his book Sex, Drugs and Cocoa-Puffs was an excruciating exercise in learning that I'm not a writer, as essay after essay pondered terrain I myself had thought or written about, with the difference being that Klosterman's writing is actually good.
Anyway, here's the bastard's essay on the upcoming hype-classic Snakes On A Plane, wherein he once again articulates the vague notions floating around my disordered and distracted brain far more cogently than I ever could. Jerk.
