I've lately been slacking off in reading challenging books. I know it's summer and you're supposed to beach read and consume a lot of pleasurable fluff, but I find intellectually dense works pleasurable. Ideally. I can get bogged down in them, too, and stop reading them. I also love literary junk food. (Really, I try to love everything and want to be as populist as I can). I mean in the other arts, I did watch most of The Last Ship—I'm giving it up—and I like The Strain, both show and books. So it's not like I'm an insufferable asshole who says pompously, "I don't even own a TV." For some reason, that stereotype has been place-centered in New York.

But it's nice to have some intellectual vanity once in a while by tackling great books. Not the one in the picture. I have been a little too scared of reading Heidegger, because, by the philosophy writers I've read, he's a tad incomprehensible. (If you do know his stuff, tell me if this is wrong.) I don't mean Finnegan's Wake; I mean a big dense but manageable work of fiction or nonfiction that will be rewarding once I get through with it. That will wow me or make me look upon a subject in a new way. Modernist, postmodern, classical fiction. Obscure nonfiction. Whatever. Reading in part is check marking off the great texts of the world.