Rating: 
Summary: Not a Serious Bone in His Body
Review: First, let me say that this book should have more universal appeal than do his movies. We all know that his movies are just too gross for some people to stomach, but there's nothing here that any adult reader should find offensive. If you enjoy homorous writing, a la Woody Allen, Steve Martin, Joe Queenan, David Sedaris, etc., you should find this little volume right up your alley.Waters displays an acerbic, eccentric, but highly insightful comic sensibility. There are fifteen short pieces here, which first appeared in various magazines during the mid '80s, primarily NATIONAL LAMPOON (When it was still funny) and AMERICAN FILM. The book opens with a bang, in one of the funniest pieces, "John Waters tour of L.A." Needless to say, this is not the L.A Chamber of Commerce "official guide." He takes us to some of the seamier sights, including the spot on Hollywood Boulevard where you can catch "the legless, one-armed white guy who break-dances on the street for horrified families as they stroll up the Walk of Fame." He also offers some timely,timeless advice for when you're driving around L.A: "Never look at pedestrians; they're the sad faces of L.A., the ones who had their licenses revoked for driving while impaired." There really aren't too many weak entries in the collection. He does go a bit over the top in his rhapsodizing of Pia Zadora, perhaps, in an article devoted to that queen of glitz, but one comes to expect "over the top" from Waters. Who would want it any other way? He's also very much the exaggerator when it comes to his likes, "Puff Piece (100 Things I Love)and his dislikes: "Hatchet Piece (100 Things I Hate)." Amongst the things he most admires are Supermarket Tabloids: "Then I gazed at the great LAS VEGAS SUN wire-photo of a giant ostrich, escaped from a zoo chasing a totally bewildered middle-aged woman down the street. Every time I see her horrified expression, the creative juices start to flow." Not content with this passing mention, he writes an entire article entitled WHY I LOVE THE NATIONAL ENQUIRER as a paean to that fine bastion of journalistic integrity. Some of Waters' images do convey a bit more of the "so banal it's hysterical" quality of his movies, as when he conjures up "a fancy Santa," in a piece called WHY I LOVE CHRISTMAS.
"Why hasn't Bloomingdales or Tiffany's tried a fancy Santa? Deathly pale, this never-too-thin-or-too-rich Kris Kringle, dressed in head-to-toe unstructured, oversize Armani, could pose on a throne, bored and elegant, and every so often deign to let a rich little brat sit NEAR his lap before dismissing his wishes with a condescending 'Oh darling, you dont REALLY want that, do you?" I mean, really, wouldn't you just love to have John Waters' private phone number and be able to shoot the breeze with him about popular culture? No!! you say? Well then this book's not for you. However, if you enjoy mordant, biting wit, and a breezy, conversational style of writing, this book is definitely for you. It was sent me by a friend. I'm going to be sending a few copies out to other friends now. Who knows, maybe we could start a John Waters cult? BEK
Rating:
Summary: must add
Review: I have to add.... I read this book ten years ago and I still return to it when I want to laugh and look at inspiring essays. All the essays are inspiring and hilarious but a couple of them (or one) about showmanship represented at movie houses is required reading--if not the whole collection--for anyone wondering why many don't stop to talk about a book they read, instead of how amazingly fast they read the whole book; or for those who complain about the media and music and don't create their own; or those who can't pursue their dreams because they're saving up for retirement and childrens' college funds. Yes, I've stretched it completely. But my point in highlighting one of the essays is that at least there's someone saying it's OK to give a project or idea everything you've got, and there's nothing or anyone prohibiting illusion or hilarity.
Rating:
Summary: must add
Review: I have to add.... I read this book ten years ago and I still return to it when I want to laugh and look at inspiring essays. All the essays are inspiring and hilarious but a couple of them (or one) about showmanship represented at movie houses is required reading--if not the whole collection--for anyone wondering why many don't stop to talk about a book they read, instead of how amazingly fast they read the whole book; or for those who complain about the media and music and don't create their own; or those who can't pursue their dreams because they're saving up for retirement and childrens' college funds. Yes, I've stretched it completely. But my point in highlighting one of the essays is that at least there's someone saying it's OK to give a project or idea everything you've got, and there's nothing or anyone prohibiting illusion or hilarity.
Rating:
Summary: Walking on Waters
Review: I laughed, I cried, it became a part of me. Take a look at ..... site regarding the first chapter of Crackpot. It is as wild as the book. Many of the links are gone, but many are still there. Loved this book.
Rating:
Summary: John Waters at His Best
Review: I wish John Waters would publish more collections of short narratives because I think he excells at them, even more than a filmmaker (which is saying a lot). One short story is the true basis of what becomes "Hairspray" --one of his best films. If you have any interest in unusual human behavior, this short, easy read is halarious.
Rating:
Summary: John Waters at His Best
Review: If you have a spare hour here and there and want to read some wickedly funny stuff, this book's for you. It contains a collection of essays (many of which have been published elsewhere) that cover a variety of topics, most of which have a similar theme: people are idiots and John Waters hates them. However, Waters also lovingly covers things that are dear to him (menthol cigarettes, the art of serial killers, Pia Zadora, etc). You will laugh out loud or there is something seriously wrong with you. It's sharp, it's on the mark and anyone who's ever contemplated running over those protesters at the abortion clinic with a large American car will cherish this book
Rating:
Summary: scathing, twisted, hilarious
Review: If you have a spare hour here and there and want to read some wickedly funny stuff, this book's for you. It contains a collection of essays (many of which have been published elsewhere) that cover a variety of topics, most of which have a similar theme: people are idiots and John Waters hates them. However, Waters also lovingly covers things that are dear to him (menthol cigarettes, the art of serial killers, Pia Zadora, etc). You will laugh out loud or there is something seriously wrong with you. It's sharp, it's on the mark and anyone who's ever contemplated running over those protesters at the abortion clinic with a large American car will cherish this book
Rating:
Summary: Crackpot contniues Waters love affair with filth
Review: John Waters is easily one of the funniest pop culture commentators the USA has, and the ONLY baby boomer worth listening to. If there's any drawback, it might be that the book is somewhat dated. Still, "Crackpot" is a must read for all who enjoy quality filth. You should also check out his first book, "Shock Value."
Rating:
Summary: Memorabilia
Review: This collection of essays is one of the most compulsively readable, and re-readable, books I have ever owned. I was drawn to it, as you might expect, by my enjoyment of Waters' camp classics. But to be honest, I enjoy Waters the essayist at least as much, if not more, than Waters the filmmaker. Waters' films, and particularly Pecker, Serial Mom, and Hairspray, set the scene for the miscellany of obsessions which animate this book. Crackpot offers a comforting way to understand Waters' recent turn to a more conventional cinematic venue: these films are *also* celebrations of his passionate likes (and dislikes). Waters writes a witty and acerbic prose, which conveys genuine passion for his obsessions, obsessions which include trials, the National Enquirer, Woody Allen's Interiors, dangerous candy, menthol cigarettes, and Christmas. His preferred methods seem to be the catalogue and the reminiscence: Waters' list of 101 things he hates, and 101 things he loves, are obsessive ruminations on the everyday, and Waters' methodical survey of his everyday touches gives new meaning to the sublime *and* the ridiculous. Most memorable to me, perhaps, is his LA Tour, a pre-OJ intinerary of murder, mayhem, and showbiz, and his loving tribute to the Enquirer. But his celebration of William Castle, or shame-faced coming out as a fan of avant garde, his ritualistic account of Christmas and his loving descriptions of his interests, home, and personal history all make for a case study of obsession that feels both candid and arch, in Waters' inimitable, and paradoxical way. If you read it once, you're going to read it again.
Rating:
Summary: Memorabilia
Review: This collection of essays is one of the most compulsively readable, and re-readable, books I have ever owned. I was drawn to it, as you might expect, by my enjoyment of Waters' camp classics. But to be honest, I enjoy Waters the essayist at least as much, if not more, than Waters the filmmaker. Waters' films, and particularly Pecker, Serial Mom, and Hairspray, set the scene for the miscellany of obsessions which animate this book. Crackpot offers a comforting way to understand Waters' recent turn to a more conventional cinematic venue: these films are *also* celebrations of his passionate likes (and dislikes). Waters writes a witty and acerbic prose, which conveys genuine passion for his obsessions, obsessions which include trials, the National Enquirer, Woody Allen's Interiors, dangerous candy, menthol cigarettes, and Christmas. His preferred methods seem to be the catalogue and the reminiscence: Waters' list of 101 things he hates, and 101 things he loves, are obsessive ruminations on the everyday, and Waters' methodical survey of his everyday touches gives new meaning to the sublime *and* the ridiculous. Most memorable to me, perhaps, is his LA Tour, a pre-OJ intinerary of murder, mayhem, and showbiz, and his loving tribute to the Enquirer. But his celebration of William Castle, or shame-faced coming out as a fan of avant garde, his ritualistic account of Christmas and his loving descriptions of his interests, home, and personal history all make for a case study of obsession that feels both candid and arch, in Waters' inimitable, and paradoxical way. If you read it once, you're going to read it again.
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