Countless writers and artists have spoken for a generation, but no one has done it quite like Chuck Klosterman. With an exhaustive knowledge of popular culture and an almost effortless ability to spin brilliant prose out of unlikely subject matter, Klosterman attacks the entire spectrum of postmodern America: reality TV, Internet porn, Pamela Anderson, literary Jesus freaks, and the real difference between apples and oranges (of which there is none). And don't even get him started on his love life and the whole Harry-Met-Sally situation.

Whether deconstructing Saved by the Bell episodes or the artistic legacy of Billy Joel, the symbolic importance of The Empire Strikes Back or the Celtics/Lakers rivalry, Chuck will make you think, he'll make you laugh, and he'll drive you insane -- usually all at once. Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs is ostensibly about art, entertainment, infotainment, sports, politics, and kittens, but -- really -- it's about us. All of us. As Klosterman realizes late at night, in the moment before he falls asleep, "In and of itself, nothing really matters. What matters is that nothing is ever 'in and of itself.'" Read to believe.

Pop culture references are sprinkled throughout the book, but sometimes it stretches a bit too much for the sake of a clever analogy. In the forward, Klosterman assserts that, at times, he feels as though "everything is completely connected." Unfortunately, he is not adept enough to make all of his essays into a cohesive whole (as other reviewers have noted). Ultimately, the book feels like a loose collection of unrelated but very funny skits. Although that debit doesn't sink the book, it does lessen its impact. In addition, Klosterman is sometimes too self-aware for his own good; several times, he makes reference to liking something "unironically" - such as "Saved by the Bell." His definitive goal seems to be achieving irony. While this credo certainly makes "Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs" a funny read, it can become rather tedious as well. Overall, I'd recommend this book, but with reservations.


A Keeper Manifesto for the uber curious or cool people.   April 16, 2004
 42 out of 65 found this review helpful

(or think they are)

This may be a non-sequitur but Chuck's book jacket picture looks like Corey Feldman with blond highlights. (sorry, I just had to get that off my chest) An observation that's less off the wall than Chuck's fresh and crisp writing. He is also clever, funny, twisted, and articulate. His witty essays are full of non-sequiturs but skillfully manages to segue them all in a way that only this sharp Author can.

Chuck's vocabulary is to die for. He drops tongue-twisters such as "iconoclast" like I would use the word "like". I had my dictionary handy for his use of the words "byzantine" and "zeitgeist".

Unless you have been living isolated in a cave for these last 30 years, your feelings and passions will be affected by some if not all of his chapters. Each of these droll chapters are stand alone essay topics that are as various as the different channels on cable TV. I also enjoyed it when he shed light on some secrets of the famous and infamous that were either very juicy or just plain weird. Either way, very interesting.

His wickedly keen observations range from The Sims phenomena (the most detailed and passionate essay I've ever read about a computer game) to why "Sports reporters hate sports". He not only takes you behind the scenes but into the minds of various professionals and personas in an uncannily honest and original voice. Before I read this book, I knew nothing about The Sims. I had no idea why my nephew wanted me to buy him this game for his birthday. Now I think I know too much. I finished the chapter with thoughts of God, existence and materialism swimming in my head. (The chapter began with a topic on a game for kids!)

You begin each essay thinking Chuck will lead you to one general area, next thing you know this rascal has you questioning the odds on the roll of a dice. The funny thing is, you actually understand his odds predictions. He leaves you doubting everything you learned in that dreaded statistics course you took in College.

Within each chapter, Chuck will touch upon something that you can't wait to share with someone you know because you know they will agree with Chuck's discourse on the movie Vanilla Sky or even his slight mention of the band sigur ros. (Co-incidently, he does not mention the movie and the band in any related way or even in the same chapter but my favorite sigur ros song is on the Vanilla Sky soundtrack. That's a killer soundtrack by the way.)

But most of all, I just got the sense that he did not want you to blindly accept the printed word whether those words were on a napkin, a newpaper or the Bible. He doesn't care what you believe or don't believe, as long as that belief is informed and can survive under his under-the-microscope-examinations.

He delivers all this in an easy to enjoy and digest, non heavy-handed, tongue-in-cheek way with a wink. But most of all, I just know that if he gets laid because of this book, he'll think this a success.


Repetitive, Arrogant, Racist, Sexist, Uninformed, Shallow   February 18, 2004
 15 out of 40 found this review helpful

Chuck Klosterman, unlike most people *celebrates* his lack of insight. There is nothing ironic about the subtitle, "A Low Culture Manifesto".
What he tries to do / does:
* He tries to examine pop-culture phenomena (any piece of trash that trickled its way to him) in a 'postmodern' light or in a 'philosophy for shallow people' way - except if submitted for a college assignment, he would fail (because of plagiarism). There are no new ideas: It is a rehash of a particularly bad reading of ideas put fort by Baudrillard (about 30 years before Chuck wrote this book) and other culture theorists (post modern or not). It is quite formulaic: Throw in references to 'authentic' crap of later half american pop culture, mix it with punch-line pseudo-pseudo-intellectual 'philosophy', swear around, make sex/drug jokes, finish essay (not nec. in that order)
* ...or he simply lauds certain trash, for no good reason apart from "I like it, it is not cool, it is not even uncool, hence it is great, so I like it". He is pride of being an edgy, authentic hick, of being uncool, and shallow. Admitting, or being pride of mediocrity is used as an excuse, and justification, for his utter lack of insight.
*He also comments on women (girls, chicks, and more - he has a particularly well-developed vocabulary of 'bad' terms for women) and is somewhat proud of his unjustified, ignorant sexism. He announced that no woman will ever satisy him (as if that is what women are for, satisfying men, thanks for letting us know, Chuck). He is somewhat obsessed with little girls, little boys, and little children in general, bordering on the pathological, which is very disturbing.
Conclusion
It is not even funny. It is a complete waste of your time and money. If you enjoy watching thousands of hours of reality TV, this book is just for you. It is not a manifesto of low culture, it is not even low culture, the book is just parasitic, insincere. The author is not only conceited, but is one of the most profoundly dumb writers I've ever read. Read at your own risk.


Started out TERRIFIC, but I steadily lost interest...   November 19, 2003
 14 out of 19 found this review helpful

Glad this was a collection of essays, rather than a novel. I don't think I would have been able to make it through a novel of this type of writing. Also made it easy to read while on the pot.

The essays start out with brilliance (especially the first two, about romance and The Sims, respectively), but my interest in them fizzled out. There are a few bright points here and there in the remaining essays (the essay about serial killers and our fascination with them is dead on). There is no doubt Klosterman is an adept writer, can pinpoint emotions, and locate intermittently with a witty finger the pulse of certain social issues (like what the hell tribute bands are all about and WHY). But the tone in which he does so is sometimes reminiscent of...how shall I put it? A smart-ass thirty-year-old who thinks he is very clever with his observations, and justifies it by saying he is a Gen X'er and entitled to his lofty superiority. In other words, if you read Klosterman, you're just the type of person he'd look down on.

In trying to deconstruct pop culture, Klosterman sometimes comes across as believing himself an expert about everything American. He also has no qualms about insulting outright the very audience reading his book. Even though he jokes in the beginning that he writes these things late at night in a state of near-delirium, you still get the impression he thinks he is, as he might put it, the "uber-mensch".

Some of the essays are so specialized that I had absolutely no interest in reading them, and skipped right over them as I realized the entire essay was absorbed in deconstructing, say, basketball heroes. So I can't really say I enjoyed the entire book - some of it was unintelligible to me; hence, 3 stars (IMHO).

True, Klosterman has been saturated with pop culture through his research and work with major magazines, but most of his off-the-cuff opinions are just that -- opinions and rantings rather than hard facts supported by any type of references, so keep in mind that you're reading personal essays, rather than research articles.

Perhaps I was tainted, since I had just finished reading half of Michael Moore's "Stupid White Men," and the entire of Jon Krakauer's "Under the Banner of Heaven," so one more book illustrating the hopeless stupidity of the human race may have caused me unfair irritation.

Strong essays for the most part, well written, but I lost interest and read them very patchily throughout the last half of the book because the tone grated on my nerves.


Entertaining, Yeah, But Not Enduring   February 24, 2006
 13 out of 19 found this review helpful

Manifesto? No. Essay collection? Yes. Can one tread the razor's edge between ironically tragic and tragically ironic, and manage to say something concrete and memorable? Can one deliver profound insight into Life and living by extensive deconstruction of lame TV shows, vapid celebrities, and the way the rest of Idiot America so desperately, needily relates? This seems to be Klosterman's game here, but he doesn't really walk that edge; he just keeps hopping back and forth across it. The conclusion of the foreword clues you in: "In and of itself, nothing really matters. What really matters is that nothing is ever `in and of itself.'"

Okaaaay, so jump on in.

It's something when a book can make me actually laugh out loud, and Klosterman's book did that about a half-dozen times, like when he asks if two titles in the born-again-Christian/Armageddon "Left Behind" series, The Destroyer is Unleashed and The Beast Takes Possession were Ronnie James Dio albums. I'll give him that much: when he's rolling, he can write some really funny and entertaining stuff, absolutely hilarious. That being said, within a couple of weeks of finishing this book I was struggling to remember what it was all about. I remember an essay about The Sims, ruminations on porn and the Internet, extended dialogs on Saved By the Bell and a chance Olympia, Washington (just screaming Sleater-Kinney) encounter with a serial killer, and some stuff about dating and working and scratching a living as a defiant Gen-X slacker, but that's about it.

Other reviews have called his essay subjects "stupid," but I'd argue that "inventive" probably would be a more accurate description. He's a serious geek who's totally gay for Star Wars, porn, basketball, reality TV, movies and music, but he's also a guy who doesn't just sit and bob his head; he's got that thinking thing going on, too. That comes through in the rambling and ultimately self-contradictory and confusing--yet thoroughly fun to read--essay on the true musical genius of Billy Joel, where somehow Serpico, Steely Dan, Patrick Henry, the Clash, the suckiness of the Eagles, World War II, the Sex Pistols, the Carter administration's relationship to Born to Run, Elvis Costello, Randy Newman, Catch-22, and Raymond Carver all orbit cosmically around the Piano Man. And that's just 12 pages of riffing. Later we're informed that Pamela Anderson is the "most crucial woman of her generation," and it takes another 12 pages of extended footnoted dissection to attempt to make it all clear.

Klosterman is at his best when he lets his own personal details slide into the cultural riffs, when he contextualizes his wide-ranging abstracts with concrete examples of where he's gone, what he's done and seen, and what he truly thinks about the issue at hand. The best parts were his admissions of failure, his admissions of lying and deceit when it comes to women, how most of the pieces he wrote as a movie reviewer were so soundly rejected because they offered insight and analysis, more than a shallow synopsis and a formulaic thumbs up/down. These aren't raw, juicy secrets, just simple personal admissions of failure and disillusion, and I found it to be the most connective writing in the entire book.

My absolute favorite part of the book is the list of 23 questions Klosterman has devised to test "whether (he) can really love" someone. These are great ice-breakers, and good for use in the office as well. They're definitely a way to get to know someone, if they answer truthfully. My only disappointment here was that he offered no answers from either himself or others.

There are some little things in this book that did endear Klosterman to me: The table of contents has a credits listing just like album liner notes. He actually uses footnotes for intellectually relevant portions of his discussions, and just for fun, too (man, that comes in handy for that painful The Real World narrative). And there's actually an index! This is a brilliant addition, a perfect intellectual counterpoint to the footnotes, but the editorial execution is sloppy; there are tons of names listed in the book which do not make it to the index.

Bottom line: If you're older than 45, most likely you're just not going to get it, period. The references that make up Klosterman's cosmology will be a complete mystery. If you're looking for organized, linear, straightforward media and pop-culture analysis, then Klosterman's scattershot, jump-cut, ADHD approach will infuriate you. But, if you're plugged in to TV and music and mainstream American media, and you are able to think past next week's "American Idol" to questions of what it all means and where all this is headed and what it's doing to us as a society, then this book will resonate with you, and you'll enjoy it, as I did.