The other evening, Mr. Alkaitis-Carafelli were sitting in a bar discussing various things, and the subject of esteemed book-jacket designer Chip Kidd came up, and we were both rather agush regarding his work, particularly the cover on Lunar Park. Quality shit, no? But then he has to turn around and do shit like this:

… which is so beyond fugly it makes me want to throw up. I just bought this book (in hardcover, yes, like the idiot I am arguably) and I’ve already taken the jacket off and stomped on it. WHAT IS UP, MR. KIDD?!? I want to like you and all, but hey. Also, I find the inadvertant infantile allusion of your last name endlessly confusing.

Incedentally it’s nice, really, that your average hardcover fiction book is actually smyth sewn and has headbands and all that, but for 25 bucks, one would hope that you bookbinders could condescend to do ‘em up with actual bookcloth, rather than whatever cheap colored stock you fuckers seem to employ. I know talas charges an arm and a leg for that shit, but you (and by “you” I mean whoever is in the employ of FSG and Knopf and who knows who else to do this shit) can get volume discounts, rite? ok yeah.

But anyway enough. I must eat cheese now, cuz if I don’t, the cheese will go bad, and how will I feel then?? Like a complete assmaster, that’s how. Yep.

-fish