No One Can Do Anything Worse to You Than You Can

"No One Can Do Anything Worse To You Than You Can" is one of my favorite poetry books. The poems are wildly/hilariously self-aware, self-deprecating, perceptive, violent, and even self-destructive at times. The way the poems are written seems innovative and earnest. I felt calm, 'pleasantly detached,' and self-accepting/accepting in general after reading this book.Pink's poetry contains strong imagery, not in a way that feels forced or overdone, but in a way that feels natural and inevitable. The poems call themselves on their bulls*** and call the reader on his or her bulls*** too, then contradict themselves seamlessly and beautifully. They scream while maintaining a neutral facial expression (or sometimes maybe while "mean mugging") and aren't afraid of, or exists regardless of, it seems to me, the reader's reaction.I like this book a lot and highly recommend it.

Hilarious so far

read this book in a day.The next day, f word, sucked.But now, I enjoy shoving this book in my friends' faces making them read it.

I don't believe I've ever written a review on Amazon before. But I am now, because I want the world to know that this may be the best book of American poetry ever.

it interestingfelt sharp enoughstop halfway through for sex againsleeping on train makes train your friendit good

There is only one way to read a Sam Pink book: take a deep breath, tense every muscle in your body and jump in. You can expect a barrage of words that will try to beat your mind and body into submission. If you endure, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is all yours. However, the pot might be filled with something strange, so engage with Pink at your own risk. I decided to go for it with No One Can Do Anything Worse To You Than You Can, his latest release with Lazy Fascist Press. It went something like this:Imagine you open a book and start reading the first page. You get the impression the words are coming at you aggressively. The words want something from you. Maybe they're accusing you of something. Then you realize it's because Pink is an awful human being. What you're reading comes from his head and he is confessing his deepest, darkest desires. What the sentences want is to scare you a little."I'd love to cut your face open with the smaller blade on a swiss army knife."There is something wrong with this man. You blink."I want to be the kind of person who would only kill himself if given the chance to watch it."You blink again."I'm willing to sit in a room for decades to plan revenge on someone who accidentally bumped into me on the train."You take a deep breath. Everything is fine. Pink is simply a very talented author with a unique voice and style. Probably no blood was shed during the writing process. The book you're devouring is nothing more than that: literature. Then an accusation jumps out at you."You only know what to do when no one is watching."This isn't funny any more. Somehow Pink knows you. No. It's impossible. It's getting harder to keep your cool, to believe it's all just a coincidence. You blink again and swallow."You want to know something? -- you are a mathematical equation that begins with a bunch of meaningless signs and ends the same way but it looks like a lot has happened (and you know I mean that as a compliment)."Your breathing turns fast and shallow. The desire to punch something becomes a burning sensation in your chest. Fiction. The confessions and accusations are just that: figments of Pink's imagination. You keep reading."At home, eating my own heart off a commemorative plate that has a picture of my corpse on it."Your head should be saying "Hold on tight!" but instead it's cackling madly, full of that unfiltered joy that comes from finding the kind of book that keeps you glued to the pages regardless of what the world around you throws your way. You read words that speak of words that are not there. You hold the text which holds the meta-text:"(Phrase-equivalent of a picture of a person lying in a carpeted hallway, head smashed apart.)"Correction: the text holds you.Is this horror? Poetry? A novel? The diary of a madman? It's all of those and more.You blink again. The book is done with you, not you with it. You crave more.Anyway, that's more or less how it happened. No One Can Do Anything Worse To You Than You Can is wildly imaginative and very entertaining. The author is simply someone who fans of literature must read and this book is just one more step in the ladder that's currently taking Lazy Fascist Press into a place within the publishing industry where there's a lot of room simply because very few have gotten there. Go buy this right now.

Reading Sam Pink, I get the feeling that he is writing for today's American youth. Then I change my mind and realize that he is actually writing for no one, not even himself. Then I change my mind and decide that he is writing for me, and that I have somehow benefited from Sam Pink's existence. Then I decide Sam Pink is actually everyone, and that is why his writing feels so familiar, because he is everyone and I am everyone. Sometimes I am afraid of reading Sam Pink because he seems to be revealing things that I thought were my own secrets, revealing them so that everyone can see, and this feels like one of these dreams where you suddenly realize that you've been walking around shirtless for some reason, and that you've been doing so for a while.Ah, this is good.This books reveals the truth that everyone is actually mentally ill and just pretending not to be. And it makes this fact somehow beautiful. And it's all lies. Sam Pink is like that friend who will never just tell you what you want to hear, but who actually wants to share some of his humanity with you, even if that means being disgusting and hurtful.I give this 5 stars, a totally enthusiastic 5 stars.Thank you, Sam Pink!

This is a collection of four long poems: The Midwest, You Hear Ambulance Sounds and Think They Are For You, Human Beings Are Toys and A Shield Made of Napkins.I see them as incredible pieces of literature or a turned out bag of mess. For me it's really hard to distinguish. There are some moments in the four pieces I can ease back and emphatically pump my fist in agreement and congratulations of Sam Pink's genius. Then there are moments where I wonder if I had just happened upon a public release of Pink's bizarre and wickedly filthy stream of consciousness. Some of this stuff is out there, man. It's as if Pink has forsaken his quest to convey any meaning or structure. I am assuming that is Pink's goal in the first place. He might be laughing at us all for praising him for his works and all along he knows it is a pile of sick.But that alone is what attracts me to the bizarro literary world where Sam Pink is a resident. It challenges the rules of society and its norms, morals and even its prejudices. It's an interesting and challenging book of poetry.