Shane Jesse Christmass
Meth-DTF
Meth-DTF
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PUBLISHED BY Filthy Loot
Entering Shane Jesse Christmass’ world is always a thrill, and Meth-DTF confirms this but somehow this time it is with an even wilder abandon that feels new.
VHS tracking blurs through our imagination as we try and keep up with the latest literary death-trip that SJXSJX has strapped us to. We’re going through American suburbs and cities with a nihilistic pace, trying to get rest in damp and sweaty motels where nothing stands still and the paranoia practically drips from the paragraphs – the radio is constantly changing, so are the clothes, the era and faces of those around you. The narrator and his sidekick Samuel – who maybe died a little while back but who maybe didn’t – not that it even matters because there’s some new fresh hell coming already – try to offer some guidance along their hallucinatory mission as the pages continually cause my pulse to increase and my imagination to rattle.
Christmass’ has a knack of writing sentences that have a way of connecting with you in a real, physical way. You feel it in your chest. They raise your stomach acid to your throat. If you’re holding this book and your hands aren’t shaking, then you’re doing it wrong.
