Fuck 'Fifty Shades of Grey,' Get Your Kicks from 'Crash' by J. G. Ballard

What I would like to do, what I would enjoy immensely, is to replace all those copies of 'Fifty Shades of Grey' I see in the hands of the half-illiterate women on the bus, or at the library, or dulling around the bookstore in an idle haze, with 'Crash' by J. G. Ballard.

Fifty Shades of Grey a bestseller?! Really?! I had to at least pick up a copy and flip through it, just to see what all the fuss was about. It's terrible. The writing is really, really awful. As far as I know this is the first real success story of a self-publishing author making it big with a major publisher in the mainstream. And this is what we get???! I weep. I weep.

So suddenly it's okay to read erotica in public? It's no longer shameful? Alright. Try this. It's called 'Crash.' It's literary. Oooo, literary. OMG. Yeah, I know. Pretty cool, huh? Here's a passage:

"After a near collision at a traffic intersection semen jolts across a cracked speedometer dial. Later, the dried residues by the lacquered hair of the first woman who lies across his lip with her mouth over his penis, one hand on the wheel hurtling the car through the darkness towards a multi-level interchange, the swerving brakes drawing the semen from him as he grazes the tailgate of an articulated truck loaded with color television sets, his left hand vibrating her clitoris towards orgasm as the headlamps of the truck flare warmingly in the rear-view mirror. Later still, he watches as a friend takes a teenage girl in  the rear seat. Greasy mechanic's hands expose her buttocks to the advertisement hoardings that hurl past them. The wet highways flash by in the glare of headlamps and the scream of brake-pads. The shaft of his penis glistens above the girl as he strikes at the frayed plastic roof of the car, marking the yellow fabric with his smegma."

Weee! What did you think? That's writing. Are you turned on yet? I know there aren't any billionaire men that know French and only have time for the woman they fuck, but at least it's real, true, and honest writing. It's literary, like I said. It has something to say that's greater than the sum of its parts. What is this allusive message, you say? Read the fucking book and find out!

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