Wow.
Who knew Michael Crichton was such an ass? I really hope the major media (no, TNR) is not part of the major media) pick this up and he receives a significant public shaming.See also Crowley's full response at TNR.
The dirty secret is that there never was a Golden Age. North Beach has been dining out on its myth forever. We're nostalgic for Jack Kerouac? Well, guess what -- Jack Kerouac was nostalgic for Jack London, and Jack London was envious of Robert Louis Stevenson, and Robert Louis Stevenson thought that Mark Twain got there first and ate all the candy, and Mark Twain -- he just wanted to be back on the Mississippi.and
But it doesn't matter. There's always next time. And when you finally begin to understand that there ain't going to be no next time, that this is it, that's OK.It struck me because it reminds me of my own early fantasies about cities, developed around the time I became aware of the Beats, Alternativeness, and the broad theme of the romance of urban grittiness. Like the author of this piece, I remember being driven around Minneapolis by my parents, and later, when I got my license, deliberately taking the long way home through the grittier parts of the city, all while treating steam from grates, old buildings, and everything beat down as an aesthetic experience. Cities were fertile targets this new sort of fantasy in the years before I started spending time in them.