A fouler and more representative avatar of an entire generation of perverse narcissists may not exist. In this, his passing may be notable. Gabriel’s trumpet calling the smelly hippies to the eternal dirt-nap.

Like many of the countless pseudo-intellectual frauds of his ilk, he reveled more in the adulation of the credulous than in the credulity of those who take literature seriously. He achieved the celebrity status of Capote without the talent. He achieved the debauchery of Hemingway without either the sincerity or style, and notably, without even the courage to drink himself to death.

His preening and overcompensating machismo, his overweening self-regard perfectly mirror the ethos of ten-thousand gray pony-tailed, volvo-driving, Captain Queegs of the hippie generation desperately grasping at the last straws of relevance, desperately trying to re-live their “great cheese incident” of 1968.

Oh joy! the unwashed generation is finally rounding the clubhouse turn.

Please hurry and join your “literary lion” you despicable sheep of the Baby Boom generation. America will be much better off without you.

Good riddance to a buggery-worshipping, wife-stabbing, psychopath-enabling moral-retard.

Mailer will soon be forgotten. None too soon.