Chuck bo buck, banana fanana fo ...

I just finished the latest and greatest novel from Chuck Palahniuk, Rant.

Now I am a fan of Chuck. He's a clever sort of fellow. He wrote Fight Club, which is an excellent book. His take on a writers retreat also blew my mind. But what the fuck is the matter with this guy?

I've been a follower for a long time. I've seen him speak, and autograph copies of his book. There is love. But sometimes, you have to wonder, what happened to this guy to make him so damn twisted?

The latest book follows the life of a young man, named Rant, who is wanted by the police for killing people by spreading rabies. That's right, rabies. But in Chuck's world, you don't just spread rabies by spitting on people's food, or in their eyes. No, in Chuck's world, it was through oral sex.

"To make time stand still -- what sand mandalas are to Buddhist Monks and embroidery is to Irene Casey -- eating pussy was to Rant. He'd stick his tongue into you and years could pass. Mountains erode. It almost didn't matter that his spit gave me rabies."

When I think of all the silly little stories I've written over the years, I realize that I cannot compete on Chuck's level. I can never be to pussy-spreading-rabies what Chuck is to twisted storytelling.

I'm almost too depressed to twitter myself now.