As per usual with most of his novels, there’s a rash of disappearing characters, cryptic threats, violent snuff films, grotesque sexual abuse and a total lack of any positive emotion within the narrator (yawn).

That’s right. You can now purchase and read the book that put Hank on the map, with his very name on the cover and a brief bio on the back. And it’s not only a bona fide work of fiction, but a damn good one at that.

The Doors are like a religion unto themselves. This may sound utterly pretentious, but 40 years after the fact, they remain the unique kind of band one either chooses to believe in or not.

Let’s face it: Century City is still not happening. Despite the hilarious CAA building, a glass structure with a giant empty hole in the center that seems almost too perfect a representation of Hollywood intelligence, Century City fails to enliven. This is human brokerage central, the hub of deal-making and commerce, where eating is for slackers and the elevators only work if you have an access-fob. And really, who doesn’t love a motivated professional with shark teeth and the ability to balance both a yogurt and a starlet’s career in one hand?