He is an author whose work I'm not particularly fond of. Somehow he's managed to become a darling of the literary community and I don't understand it at all.

[A book about just... walking? If he wanted to think about walking that much he'd just go to the gym and get on a treadmill. Yeesh.]

It feels right to name a sentient trashbag after him. And frankly I think I like the trashbag much more already.