Andrew Hudgins’s The Joker, part memoir, part joke book, is so fresh and original that it seems without precursor. Like a good joke, it doubles our vision, inserts anarchy into logic, pleases us with its felicities of phrasing, and stuns us with a truth we recognize two beats after we hear it.
Neale Donald Walsch victimized by his own brain, Joshua Casteel on his opposition to the war, Macmillen facetiously explains how books are published, and video of Whitman reading his work.
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