Damn That Man... and Tickemaster

Damn, that man has a voice. I'm talking about author/pundit Christopher Hitchens, with whom I (and many) don't always agree, but a sentence like this:

Having assumed the title of this very slight novel to be drawn from the famous stage direction in Hamlet, I was quite braced for some Rothian reflections on the Oedipal, with plenty of reluctant and dutiful visits to wheezed-out Jewish fathers in the wilderness of postindustrial New Jersey, and to the grisly wives and mothers who had drained them dry and made them into husks. -- "Zuckerman Undone," Atlantic Monthly, October 2007.

Well. You can just hear his British accent and imperious sniff between phrases and see his hands steepling thoughtfully, regretfully, in front of his impassive visage. His review of Philip Roth's new novel skewers the book. Ouch. I'll still read it, of course.

... Bought tickets to the New Yorker Festival: both readings with Junot Diaz and Annie Proulx and a conversation with Seymour M. Hersh interviewing David Remnick. Should be good brain food if not entertaining. Cannot believe the service fees that Ticketmaster charges. Ouch! Damn them too.