sorry charlie, i can't read the whole blasted antkind thing. it's like an endless monster of logorrhea. i jump half-way and it turns into a book about d.j. trunk and i can't bother to backtrack to see how he got there and i don't think it would be possible anyway. i doubt charlie knows how he got there, or cares. he's just doing it. he made his money on the movies. which i love, which this book will never be, it's like the film he discovers and burns in the book that's 3 months long. there's some good stuff embedded in it, but i tell you it could be 1/7 th of itself and sufficient. shit charlie, think of your audience, you got an editor on your films, right? your poor cried out for an editor so that it may live, now it's too late, it's too heavy, it's sunk (like d.j.trunk).

one reviewer said it was 750 pages, another, 720. it's 705. no matter, i doubt they got to the last page either, or maybe they just wanted to convey how long it felt. it felt like about 90 pages to me, though it weighed considerably, inconsiderately more.

pshew, that's a load off my mind.