Rick Moody

My broken, lost, somewhat hopeless, drug-addled younger self wanted to feel that there was more to life than being overlooked or oppressed by by the fortunate and graceful striving past him in and out of school. And this is how he did it: he learned everything there was to learn about these reviled pieces of culture with their bombast and their excess and even, yes, with their occasional bits of genuine feeling, and he hung around with other misfits who made this indefensible nonsense their thing. Then he waited for the winds to change. Show less «