What I've Read: IV

Ahh, the summer of Klosterman continues. I recently finished IV, which was another collection of essays. Some were original, but a great deal of the book was a collection of essays that he wrote while working for publications like Spin and Esquire.

Many of the topics once again verge all over the place. One section will talk about interviews and opinions of U2 and Brittany Spears, while later he delves into eating chicken mcnuggets for an entire week or watching VH1 for 24 hours straight. On the surface one could say it's a rehash of similar topics he wrote about in Killing Yourself to Live. But that would be too simplistic and dismissive of how he can infuse his personality traits into interviews and yet take a seemingly different topic like female tribute bands and relate them to larger discussions of society and longevity.

The highlight of most all his books has been the posing of questions. These are questions not connected to any essay or topic; instead just random questions he thinks up and often asks strangers in order to see if he'd consider being friends with them. They are always interesting head-scratchers; sometimes the answer I arrived at was black-and-white but rarely. Most of the time they provoked interesting debates within my own head, and I would love to have friends around just talking these out and debating them, but the odds of that happening are slim since we prefer drinking and just making fun of each other.

For instance, here are a couple that he poses. I didn't pick the best ones because I want others to read the books, but these are just a smattering of what you can expect. I think they're just damn intriguing to consider and discuss:

Scenario 1: You meet a wizard in downtown Chicago. The wizard tells you he can make you more attractive if you pay him money. When you ask how this process works, the wizard points to a random person on the street. You look at this random stranger. The wizard says, “I will now make them a dollar more attractive.” He waves his magic wand. Ostensibly, this person does not change at all; as far as you can tell, nothing is different. But–somehow–this person is suddenly a little more appealing. The tangible difference is invisible to the naked eye, but you can’t deny that this person is vaguely sexier. This wizard has a weird rule, though–you can only pay him once. You can’t keep giving him money until you’re satisfied. You can only pay him one lump sum up front.

How much cash do you give the wizard?

Scenario 2: Let us assume a fully grown, completely healthy Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that–for some reason–every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel-toed boots.

Would you attempt to do this?

Scenario 3: 4. Genetic engineers at Johns Hopkins University announce that they have developed a so-called “super gorilla.” Though the animal cannot speak, it has a sign language lexicon of over twelve thousand words, an I.Q. of almost 85, and–most notably–a vague sense of self-awareness. Oddly, the creature (who weighs seven hundred pounds) becomes fascinated by football. The gorilla aspires to play the game at its highest level and quickly develops the rudimentary skills of a defensive end. ESPN analyst Tom Jackson speculates that this gorilla would be “borderline unblockable” and would likely average six sacks a game (although Jackson concedes the beast might be susceptible to counters and misdirection plays). Meanwhile, the gorilla has made it clear he would never intentionally injure any opponent.

You are commissioner of the NFL: Would you allow this gorilla to sign with the Oakland Raiders?

Scenario 4: You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: Every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate’s collarbones with a Crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: You must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear–for the rest of your life–sound as if it’s being performed by the band Alice in Chains. When you hear Creedence Clearwater Revival on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it’s being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound like it’s being covered by Alice in Chains. When you hear a commercial jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way to you).

Would you swallow the pill?