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David Holthouse

Filed under: Imported

Every once in awhile you read an article that serves to highlight exactly how banal and shallow your own work as a journalist is by comparison. On many occassions I have had this insight after reading the work of David Holthouse. For those not familiar with his work, Holthouse is a long time New Times staff writer, first in Phoenix, now in Denver. Here's the first sentence of his most recent gem.

Somewhere at the bottom of Grasmere Lake is an Egyptian-made assault rifle with an empty clip.

Who the hell is not going to read that story?

While I'm on the topic I might as well point out that Holthouse wrote the definitive chronicle of Meat Puppet Cris Kirkwood's tortured descent into druggie hell. Here's an exerpt:

Regardless, according to his brother and close friends in the Valley, Cris Kirkwood is lurching pell-mell toward the reaper, track-marked arms open for the embrace. He's smoking cocaine and shooting heroin in death-wish quantities. Overweight from binging on Ben & Jerry's ice cream, he's pocked with the sores and boils that result when a junkie misses a vein and shoots impure, infectious heroin directly into muscle tissue.

Now I will stop writing because having my prose stacked up against Holthouse's is depressing.

Posted by Paul Demko at May 23, 2003 2:46 PM

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