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He's colder than that, now.

When DFW died, Chorozzo made a disrespectful comment, and I slowly willed him into the grave over it. I didn't love Prince less than I loved DFW.

jesus would somebody fucking just die already so we can get a break in the music snobbery here?

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Yeah, I actually thought he died a long time ago.
Well, he hasn't released anything since about 1964, so it's understandable that you'd think that. The guy was in hiding in New Hampshire.I'm really hoping that his son chooses to release the many novels that I'm hoping Saliger had written and hidden away in a locked box.
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Well, he hasn't released anything since about 1964, so it's understandable that you'd think that. The guy was in hiding in New Hampshire.I'm really hoping that his son chooses to release the many novels that I'm hoping Saliger had written and hidden away in a locked box.
I'm not getting my hopes up.
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Well, he hasn't released anything since about 1964, so it's understandable that you'd think that. The guy was in hiding in New Hampshire.I'm really hoping that his son chooses to release the many novels that I'm hoping Saliger had written and hidden away in a locked box.
From BBC news: "Although many years have passed since the publication of any work by Salinger, friends and visitors to his home have revealed that he has a large safe containing at least 15 completed manuscripts."
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I read something awhile ago where his daughter said that he (JD) had thousands and thousands of pages, color-coded for what to do with them after his death. One of the colors was "publish." I don't wanna celebrate the man's death, but he's probably my favorite writer ever, and Catcher in the Rye is literally his third or fourth best book (he only published 4 books). God I hope there really are actual novels and stories to be published.

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CORNISH, NH—In this big dramatic production that didn't do anyone any good (and was pretty embarrassing, really, if you think about it), thousands upon thousands of phonies across the country mourned the death of author J.D. Salinger, who was 91 years old for crying out loud. "He had a real impact on the literary world and on millions of readers," said hot-shot English professor David Clarke, who is just like the rest of them, and even works at one of those crumby schools that rich people send their kids to so they don't have to look at them for four years. "There will never be another voice like his." Which is exactly the lousy kind of goddamn thing that people say, because really it could mean lots of things, or nothing at all even, and it's just a perfect example of why you should never tell anybody anything.(from http://www.theonion.com/content/news/bunch...nies_mourn_j_d)

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So I have a Salinger story I suppose would be appropriate here. Up in New Hampshire here we have this event that falls (ha) in October titled Pumpkinfest in Keene. Keene holds a university where one of my best friends attends. A few friends and I make a trip to the festival and throw a party afterwards and crash over with our Keene buddy. On our way to the event, with five of us crammed in a tiny car, we pass a school named for Salinger. This begins a conversation about the author, his works, and speculation on what the recluse does in his time. Out of all of this comes an idea that we should take a road trip to Cornish trying to get a chat with J.D. Perhaps for our University publication. Two of the current five write for the publication and figure it would be a huge undertaking but also a wonderful haul if successful. Two weekends later two of those friends and myself find ourselves in the same car on our way to search for Salinger. We absolutely have no real outline of a plan to do this. We figured it might be to our advantage to give him an issue of our publication with a personal letter asking to speak with him, on record or not, and leave it at the door. Before trenching our way through woods and dirt roads we stopped off at a convenience store for coffee cakes and decided to talk to the employees. After telling them of our plan an elderly woman behind us in line becomes outraged and tells us "hooligans" not to even come close to stepping on that property, and tells us she will inform the police if she sees us go up there. Rattled, we turn back to the car with our mouths open, dripping crumbs. My friend, the driver, rested his hands on the wheel for a few minutes before turning sideways to address us. "Dude, I think that was fvcking J.D. Salingers wife." We turned around and ended up at a bar a few hours later. Now, I'm not sure who the lady really was, but My friend is still vehement about it.

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Out of all of this comes an idea that we should take a road trip to Cornish trying to get a chat with J.D. Perhaps for our University publication. Two of the current five write for the publication and figure it would be a huge undertaking but also a wonderful haul if successful.
So, you thought that this reclusive author who had only given one interview since the 60s would jump at the chance to give a bunch of unknown kids an interview for their tiny publication? And you thought it was appropriate to turn up at his house uninvited asking for this interview? That didn't strike you as a gross invasion of privacy and intrusion into the life of someone who was clearly trying to avoid just that sort of situation?Well done you. Great story.
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So, you thought that this reclusive author who had only given one interview since the 60s would jump at the chance to give a bunch of unknown kids an interview for their tiny publication? And you thought it was appropriate to turn up at his house uninvited asking for this interview? That didn't strike you as a gross invasion of privacy and intrusion into the life of someone who was clearly trying to avoid just that sort of situation?Well done you. Great story.
But maybe Salinger would've seen promise in him and taken him under his wing and inspired him to greater things ultimately leading to Salinger re-entering society before dying a couple years later but not before instructing Matt Damon to inexplicably show up and give him Salinger's final works.
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Also the little midget psychic from Poltergeist, Zelda Rubinstein.And nobody here bothered to post about Johnson & Johnson heiress Casey Johnson or Miep Gies, the protector of Anne Frank and her diary.

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So, you thought that this reclusive author who had only given one interview since the 60s would jump at the chance to give a bunch of unknown kids an interview for their tiny publication? And you thought it was appropriate to turn up at his house uninvited asking for this interview? That didn't strike you as a gross invasion of privacy and intrusion into the life of someone who was clearly trying to avoid just that sort of situation?Well done you. Great story.
Of course it did. Shiz happens when you're young, stoned, and priviledged white kids.
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I read something awhile ago where his daughter said that he (JD) had thousands and thousands of pages, color-coded for what to do with them after his death. One of the colors was "publish." I don't wanna celebrate the man's death, but he's probably my favorite writer ever, and Catcher in the Rye is literally his third or fourth best book (he only published 4 books). God I hope there really are actual novels and stories to be published.
I hope it's endless How to guides for menial tasks. How to make toast. How to comb a cats hair. Thousands of em, so everybody sucking his **** postmortem realizes how little they really have in this life and then offs themselves. I don't include you or anyone in this thread, you all obviously have tons of shit going on.
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I hope it's endless How to guides for menial tasks. How to make toast. How to comb a cats hair. Thousands of em, so everybody sucking his **** postmortem realizes how little they really have in this life and then offs themselves.
????????????
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I think it got away from him a little there, but the initial idea was funny to me.
I'm trying to figure out if the misfire occurred before "thousands" or after "'em".
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I think it got away from him a little there, but the initial idea was funny to me.
The How to guides bit was a promising concept, somewhat redolent of the rambling journal of an obsessive-comulsive a la "I am Jack's ..."However, sweetdee certainly lost his grip on humour after that. The unnecessary viciousness toward Salinger fans, combined with the ludicrous notion that anyone would be so disappointed by his unpublished works that they would commit suicide, made for a flaccid follow-up. Poor form.
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The How to guides bit was a promising concept, somewhat redolent of the rambling journal of an obsessive-comulsive a la "I am Jack's ..."
What would be the funniest collection to find? There'd be some sort of Geraldo-type set-up for the unveiling of the complete unpublished works of JD Salinger. Live TV, open up the vault, and what? Is it How-To books? Children's books? Trashy romance novels? Comic strips? Sal photoshops?
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