Anybody read that Dave Eggers story in the New Yorker? I have no idea which issue it was, since we got a whole bunch of them forwarded in a single lump. It's typical Eggers fare--young male protagonist who's really just the blank numb reactor to an emotional trauma (in this case, attempted suicide) displaced onto someone else. The end of the thing actually had some promise--a grotesque and visceral, if not entirely original, image of skinning a cow and wearing its face as a mask--but Eggers blew it with a little too much self-consciousness, a penultimate and unnecessary "fucking" to show you just how emotionally heavy this really was. Grrr.