IN THEORY ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE IN CALIFORNIA

I have a weakness for ambiguity. Wooly assertions inexactly expressed and pretending toward some vague type of profundity can awaken in me cognitive connections that resemble something akin to poetry.

There are a few good writers working today who are masters of this type of misty lyricism. 

René Lagrimar, the author of, among other things, Swaddled in Tracht immediately comes to mind. Gammy Sinclair, whose Accept The Act singlehandedly influenced an entire generation of young anarchists to organize on Pinterest remains for me a galvanizing force of anti-nature. And Prem Morran, with his breathtaking Surge Beyond Capacity, created a unique minor masterpiece of florid equivocation.

My Los Angeles colleague David Schoffman dabbles in this sort of rough literary obfuscation as well. In addition to painting small, lapidary gimcracks masquerading as serious art he has the dubious distinction of having authored more than seventy-five extremely wordy cultural manifestos. 

He goes through publishers like a footballer goes through cleats and it never ceases to amaze me how he's never at a loss for readers.

He too writes in that diaphanous misdirected manner that I admire so much. The problem with Schoffman is his insistence on pandering to the middlebrow variety of highbrow reader rendering his books just a wee bit too readable.

I frankly think it's a cheap shtick and it goes a long way in explaining his popularity. (It's worth noting that his books are rarely found on the syllabi of professors from prestigious art schools and universities. Instead he finds himself a mainstay at junior and community colleges, especially in the midwest.)

There's a rumor going around that David is working on a children's animated comedy feature about Kafka's love life. 

Now that might actually be a great idea!