Benson Bruno

Benson Bruno is, like all people, a man of his time, and his writings express his bitterness at not being able to afford a decent karat of gold toilet seat.

He was born in a small town that he's never seen to a Navy man and a Lutheran organist. Benson's father, a practical man, tried to teach him the value of fixing things yourself, table manners, choosing a major with career prospects - and failed. His mother made him musical, despite an obvious lack of talent in that field. In school he accrued average grades, until he got to college, where he accrued average debt, and decided to drop out of grad school before regressing entirely to the mean. With few opportunities and no ambition, he decided to become an artist.

Future ages may never read his work, but in his own lifetime he hopes to be shamelessly popular. And since he also aspires to write books that make you think, he is likely to be doubly disappointed. He is not all that good of an artist yet; instead of making you think, you are likely to be confused and overwhelmed with flourish. But he is always getting better, and as a person he is growing accordingly. The other day an old friend saw Benson on the street and the author, being a bigger man now, ignored his greeting. Benson anxiously looks forward to the day he will be recognized as a great artist, so he can respond to the person who recognizes him with a fist.