Bukowski Charles: Priče o običnom ludilu

Charles Bukowski: Tales of Ordinary Madness

After the collection The Most Beautiful Woman in Town, The Colorful Shop (joyfully!) offers a second portion of Charles Bukowski's wacky writings, stories and notes, originally published together under the title Erections, Ejaculations, Exhibitions and General Tales of Ordinary Madness. For the reader who knows the author's handwriting, the above information is certainly sufficient, and for others we suggest that they simply understand the book as a self-help manual and, if possible, buy it right away! The answer to the possible how and why is simple: Namely, "Bukowski Therapy", or perhaps better "Noise as Medicine", would consist in the fact that by reading about the author's "ordinary madness" you forget about your own and thus find new peace and happiness within yourself, and joy and love around you. In addition to helping themselves, they would also do the same for us, because the book would reach the top of the sales charts, as is already the case with self-help literature, and that would bring you and us additional happiness and joy! If all of this seems insufficiently convincing to you, or as some kind of joke, or as another of the everyday "small role to big miracle" types, there is a simple logic that says that a person cannot be in two places at the same time, which would mean that if you plunge into Buk's "ordinary madness", you must definitely get out of your own! And when you're out, don't go inside, read another Bukowski, and then more and more (we've published a dozen of them) - accept it with open hearts and souls, and you'll almost certainly find a way out of the madness, crisis, recession and other evils that surround us! For the potential undecideds and stragglers, here is a shorter "therapeutic" excerpt, an unadulterated Bukowski salve:
"Madness? Of course. And what is not madness? Isn't life madness? We are all wound up like toys... a few turns of a spring, we run a little, walk around, make plans, go to the polls, mow the grass... I found some kind of solace in drinking, betting and sex, and in that sense I am the same as any other member of the community, city, nation; the only difference is that I didn't care about 'making it', I didn't want a family, a home, a decent job and the like. And here I am: neither an intellectual nor an artist... I'm hanging in some in-between space and I think it could be the beginning of madness...«
Bukowski as medicine? And why the hell not? Well, there are more life arguments here than most of the stories and promises we hear every day from serious and professional people and... why not?