Monday, April 10, 2006

Dan Brown or a Desert Island?

Nice blazer Argos catalogue man

Whilst walking through my local WHSmiths an advertising board, full of Dan Brown books had the effrontery to announce; “If you haven’t read Dan Brown where have you been?” I was taken aback by the idiocy of this statement, and declined the invitation to buy one get one free, or BOGOF, as it was called during my wretched time in the retail industry.

Beneath this smarmy statement of foolish accusation lay a picture of a man wearing shorts on a raft in the sea, next to what looked like a tropical Island. You see very clever, if you haven’t read these terrible tomes, then you must have been on a desert island, get it. Quite frankly, this particular man is lucky to live in such beautiful climes and to not have to know about such rubbish, that is the Dan ‘Trying to look literary, by wearing a terrible blazer’ Brown industry. The choice is academic.

Anyway where have I been? I have been in a place called taste.

Dan Brown isn’t going to be accepted into the Literary Canon anytime soon, though it would be good to see him fired from one. But seeing how his tentacles are rapidly spreading, he would end up landing on that raft and pester that unassuming Island dweller to read his nincompoop novels, thus our choice is no more, you can have a desert Island, but you have to have Dan Brown.

I am judging a book by its cover here as well. Consensus of valued opinion tells me not to waste my time going past the covers.

I am off to read James Patterson, I have taste as I said before.

Dan Brown dun gud books about jesas and how god is reely a lady!

His prose certainly zips along as well, perfect beach fodder for people who holiday on the Spanish Coast and eat in 'British Pubs' every day they are there.

This bloke died, but it wasn't him who killed him it was the monk with funny eyes. But he died as well because Mary wasn't his mum. THE END.
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