My “good” “friend” Prof. Jason Crest was in touch after a long hiatus that wasn’t quite so long as I would have liked. He’d got wind of the Russian translation of Octopus and it had inspired him to dig out some of his old scribblings. Not only that, he’d got wind.
Well, every silver lining has a cloud, and being a somewhat obtuse character (my most serious competition for the mantle of World’s Most Obscure Experimental Novelist) his book was eventuating with no discernable publisher, isbn or identification. Admittedly, the book is a bit rude (as the title infers) but I questioned whether it warranted quite that level of paranoia. Prof. Crest replied that he held the traffic in illegal narcotics in high (?!) regard as a best-practice model for efficent distribution networks. The serious social costs attendant on the trade were merely indicative of its effectiveness. Prof. Crest had therefore taken the radical, though logical, step of appropriating their methods of transacting business, notwithstanding the legality of his own product. It goes without saying that Prof. Crest is noted for his moral courage and the novelty of his thinking rather than his pragmatism.
Consequently, should you wish to obtain a copy of this marvellous novel, you will either have to know someone who can fix you up or be prepared to hang around near the khazi of the scungiest pub you can find nearby. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I can’t help feeling that he may be onto something.
When I told him that I didn’t want to pay for my copy on the grounds that the first hit was customarily free, he laughed in my face and told me to send that one in to Mythbusters, one of his least favourite television shows. Then he punched me in the face and told me to send that one in to Australia’s Funniest Home Videos, one of his favourites. He’s a wag, that Cresty. I could have fucking had him only I thought it was funny. Next time, twat…
18 May 2007