the satanic purses

tonight was a cold, rainy night, and yet there was a very long que of students winding through the city center. what was the occassion? salman rushdie was speaking at the Oxford union. eager to sieze the opportunity, i stood in line with the masses, uncertain whether all of these people were attending because they were fans of rushdie or because they hated him. i waited about 20 minutes in the rain only to be denied entry! "members only"... i knew those jackets had to refer to something! one slightly important detail i forgot to enquire about before making plans to go to the event. i'm kinda annoyed right now, hence i am at my computer blogging it away. but it's all good, i'm joining the union tomorrow and then i'll get to attend all of the other speeches they have planned.

i wanted to go to the salman rushdie lecture tonight because i had a question for him. mr. rushdie, how does it feel to be the paris hilton of literature?

that's pretty much all he is, no? ...famous for offending people and causing controversy. his writing is ok, but nowhere near good enough to merit the attention that he gets. likewise, paris hilton can act--put a girl before a camera and that's acting, more or less.

but hey, whatever works. they generated the buzz and they are reaping the benifits. as the saying goes, don't hate the player, hate the game.

who could hate a face like this?