Like, what? Beatnik play discovered

Beat me

I've never read much Jack Kerouac--just The Dharma Bums and The Subterraneans--but I read recently that a lost play by him has been discovered in a dusty warehouse in this very city. The title is--what a surprise--Beat Generation, and it will be published in October. "It details a day in the drink and drug-fuelled life of Kerouac's alter ego, Jack Duluoz," according to the BBC. I look forward to reading it, or seeing it performed, as I have some affection for the Beats. Just about everything in recent history that could conceivably be called countercultural can be traced back to them, I suppose: rap, punk, "spoken word" in all its permutations. When I read something at the local open mic, I'm conforming to some kind of, like, beat stereotype, I suppose--me with my goatee and black jeans. So it goes on. The beat goes on. Ughh. Now I won't get that stupid song out of my head all afternoon . . .
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