Neighbourhood teens making a racket with their wild Nobel Prize for Literature announcement parties. A group’s been out in the street chanting “Gerald Fucking Murnane! Oi! Oi! Oi!” for the last twenty minutes. If Murakami gets it they’re gonna be overturning cars.

How come I’ve never heard of Gerald Murnane? Have I been living under a rock?

I fucking hate these guys. Last month they were taking turns reading Édouard Levé’s ‘Suicide’ and doing shots of Everclear whenever the narrative expressed the ultimate absurdity of attempting to create a coherent structure out of the disparate events of a human life