David Rakoff dies at 47, but will be uttering more wit and pathos later this year

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    Aug 19, 2012 10:18 PM GMT
    Children can go back to their rooms now - this for the adults here. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dave-hill/my-friend-david-rakoff_b_1772570.html
    In an interview he said he wrote for a selected generation. "I don’t care what the young people are doing. Youth is the least interesting thing one can bring to the table." He definitely had a gay audience in mind - On what makes an artist: "Hanging out does not make you an artist - just as being gay does not make you witty – you can suck a mile of cock - it will not turn you into Oscar Wilde, believe me .”
    Rakoff was one of the wittiest gay writers on the scene in recent years, and he was a regular contributor on the This American Life radio show. He wrote the screenplay for (and acted in) the short dark satirical gay film, The New Tenants. A lot of his readings can be found on the web, including most of the film, The New Tenants. Just before he died, he recorded a reading of his last book, yet to be published.
    There is very a long reading on youtube from Half Empty:
    But he doesn't starts talking till around minute 7:00 – and the actual reading doesn't start till around minute 9:00.

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    Aug 19, 2012 10:35 PM GMT
    I've been rereading his books since his death a few days ago. The little stories of his life were always so funny.

    One of my favorite parts from "Don't Get Too Comfortable":

    "All of the designers I have met up to this point have been very nice, although upon being introduced to Karl Lagerfeld, he looks me up and down and dismisses me with the not super-kind, "What can you write that hasn't been written already?"

    He's absolutely right, I have no idea. I can but try. The only thing I can come up with right now is that Lagerfeld's powdered white ponytail has dusted the shoulders of his suit with what looks like dandruff but isn't....seated on a tiny velvet chair, with his large doughy rump dominating the miniature piece of furniture like a loose, flabby, ass-flavored muffin over-risen from its pan, he resembles a Daumier caricature of some corpulent, overfed, inhumane oligarch drawn sitting on a commode, stuffing his greedy throat with the corpses of dead children, while from his other end he shits out huge, malodorous piles of tainted money. How's that for new and groundbreaking, Mr. L.?"
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    Aug 19, 2012 10:57 PM GMT
    I have no idea who this man was, but he clearly knew how to deftly throw shade like confetti, as easy and natural as breathing.

    I can respect that rare and refined mastery of skill in select others. I shall fervently research his work.

    Then, I shall continue to read my occasional challengers like art-house movie subtitles, with an even more reinforced library of shade.

    Yes. icon_cool.gif