The Talented Mr. Hill

I've meant to write for months now on Zach Hill's Destroying Yourself Is Too Accessible. And, so far, I....haven't. It's a confounding work -- not unlike Grant Morrison and Philip Bond's And We're All Policemen, it's a hell of a ride, but I'm still unsure as to what it all means. Nonetheless -- Hill's written a book that seems to be too cerebral for me to understand; he plays drums for one of the most interesting bands out there right now, and has a host of other projects to boot. I'm reviewing the new Hella double album for Earlash one of these days, and I'll more'n likely have more thoughts on Destroying Yourself... at that time.

I was going to strive for some grand unifying theory linking Hill's book with Orhan Pamuk's My Name Is Red, which I'm about three-quarters of the way through. Pamuk's book is, in part, about illustrated manuscripts, and Hill's book is itself an illustrated work -- I mean, that in and of itself is a launchpad for a crackpot critical theory, right? Well, maybe not.