Title: Read 40 pages, then book went into the trash.
Product review: If I had a fireplace handy it would have gone into the flames. It's absolutely pretentious twaddle; reads like Bobby Jones fan-fiction spewed by a masturbatory teenager trying to emulate bad Kerouac while furiously huffing aerated Pepsi and Scotch. File this psych-pop glib New Age crapola with similar infantile insipid garbage like Pirsig's "Zen and the Art of Changing a Bike's Oil."What a complete load of steaming fake-insight pretend-o-mysticism that really is better defined as "BE THE BALL, DANNY." Grade-D nonsense.
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