Back Inaction

I think the practice of sitting in the Oakridge Mall food court while eating a low quality (but oh so delicious) Sarku Teriyaki Chicken and rice meal while reading David Foster Wallace has happened enough that one day I will look back on it fondly and nostalgically.

An excerpt from Getting away from already pretty much being away from it all,:

“My view isn’t very good. Mrs. Edgar is cool and groomed and pretty in a lacquered way, of the sort of female age that’s always suffixed with “-ish.” Her tragic flaw is her voice, which sounds almost heliated. The Mrs. Edgar/McDonald’s Help Me Grow Program, when you decoct the rhetoric, is basically a statewide crisis line for over-the-edge parents to call and get talked out of beating up their kids. The number of calls Mrs. Edgar says the line’s fielded just this ear is both de- and impressive. Shiny pamphlets are distributed. Ronald McDonald, speech slurry and makeup cottage-cheesish in the heat, cues the kids to come over for some low-rent sleight of hand and Socratic banter. Lacking a real journalist’s killer instinct, I’ve been jostled away to the back of the ring, and my view is obscured by the towering hair of Ms. Illinois State Fair, whose function on the Press Tour remains unclear….

… There are no tough questions from the media. The tram’s tractor is putting out a steady sweatsock-shape of blue-green exhaust. Right at the edge of the tent is where I notice that the grass is different: the grass under the tenting is a different grass, pine-green and prickly-looking, more like the St. Augustine grass of the deep U.S. South. Solid bent-over investigative journalism reveals that in fact it’s artificial grass. A huge mat of plastic artificial grass has been spread over the knoll’s real grass, under the candy-stripe tent. This may have been the only moment of complete East-Coast cynicism the whole day. A quick look under the edge of the fake grass mat reveals the grass underneath, flattened and already yellowing.”

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~ by justinhong on August 24, 2010.

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