He married the under-aged, Mexican mother of his children after she told him if he didn't marry her, she would "cut off his nuts while he was asleep and stuff them down his throat. Following her loss, he gave up drinking and withdrew into the dark hollers of the mountains. After waiting for two weeks, it arrived with a 8 x 10 glossy of the Buddha! Jordan Belafonte had it made. You're nothing but a low down coal miner. While I initially focused on some of the best new romantic novels, I now will parse and magnify some up-and-coming autobiographies - not of the rich and famous - but of the down-and out. One day he got a catalog in the mail that included an advertisement for becoming a Buddhist priest.
Many reviewers of his book have concluded that it was either plagiarized or written by a ghost writer who used Bobby Joe's pathetic but graphic life as a vehicle for financial gain. I admit that these three book that I have reviewed depict the dark underbelly of human experience, but my assessment of their literary significance outweighs their depravity. His family deserted him, since they no longer saw him as a worthwhile provider. In this book McBride chronicles his tortuous journey from ailing coal miner to Buddhist disciple. Cobbledick, was written in less than 24 hours while the author was on a meth high of biblical proportions. One day he got a catalog in the mail that included an advertisement for becoming a Buddhist priest. Belefonte's narrative is engripping and visceral. If you're part of a book club, this is a book everyone should read. His prose is simple, yet his message of redemption from a life of gritty mediocrity is both pustulating and antimorphoic. No one will ever know. So I say to you troglodytes, "Life goes on, and fuck youse all, big and small. No one will regret the end of B. May Jesus have pity on your worthless soul. I'm gonna become a Buddha man! Cancer, Under My Nuts! He worked the mines in Bluefield and developed black lung during his 30's. He was a cancerous sore since he was 10 years old. It takes you from the ashes of hope to the emergence of a foolish belief that one can overcome a putrid, lonely death. They said, "Willard, you old fool. His life shattered like broken glass. My second book review is of Cancer, Under My Nuts! This is a Kafkaesque work of pain and suffering. If in the right environment, could he have become a literary giant? Following her loss, he gave up drinking and withdrew into the dark hollers of the mountains. Cobbledick never got to see his book published, for the mobile home in which he wrote it, was stormed by a SWAT team moments after he finished his manuscript, and he was shot to death after threatening to use his psychic powers to kill both the police and the Pope.
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