David Puerta Puerta itibaren Kapahri, Himachal Pradesh, Hindistan
Mint condition for ninety-nine cents—an unbeatable deal, even with the Canuck dollar scorching along at record breaking levels (thanks stuffy Big Six Banks and innate Canadian caution!)—and an author I've not a lot of experience with. I've heard lots about Paglia, split pretty evenly into camps that, whether they love or loathe her, seem to share the opinion that a little bit of Camille goes a long way. The recent columns of hers that I've stumbled across generally contain a dram of counter-intuitive and provocative insight for every ounce of flouncy, overwritten horseshit: but this volume is beautifully put together, abounds with intriguing and sexy subject matter and, after the quick Sastrean glance through, seems to be written with a sleek wit that would just easily pull you along before suddenly making an attempt on your eye with a wickedly-hued knitting needle. So into the sorta-reading shelf she goes.