guess that now’s as good a time as any to acknowledge our collective debt to the work of William Gaddis. And this is not just because William has a whole bizarre set of complex psychological relationships with any other writer who happens to be named William (See William S. Burroughs, William Vollman, William Blake), but because Gaddis' stylistic innovations in his novels A Frolic of His Own, J.R. and The Recognitions added a new ontological layer to the realm of possibility in the American novel. This hypertext could not have happened without him. Yet his books end up on the remainder shelves. Fucking America. Read A Frolic of His Own. It has its pleasures. We had the pleasure of meeting Gaddis when we were in St. Louis.