Before I read Frederick Barthelme I read about him online.  If you type his name into google you will get a few pages of results.  He seems to have a growing internet presence.  There are no videos of him combing his hair on youtube.  He is afraid of becoming a viral video sensation for fear his words would gain unnecessary added meaning.  Most people have learned to accept this about him. 

I once picked up his novel in a used bookstore, read the first five pages, thought 'yep', but didn't buy the book.  A few weeks ago I was in another used bookstore, found a collection of his stories, read the first page, thought 'yep', and bought the book.

Moon Deluxe was printed on the paper.  Its pages had a great effect on me.  The stories were a mass of various moments all stapled together with literary mechanisms.  Do not be confused, Frederick Barthelme’s belief in robotics—whether pro or con—is not apparent in these stories.  When I said, “Literary mechanisms” I was mostly thinking of periods, commas, a brief unwritten sighs. 

Some people will look at the stories and think, "Shit, I could have written that."  Other people will look at the stories and say, "Mark, you've found your bible, your god, let's drive to Mississippi and crucify this Barthelme."  The former is an idiot.  The latter seem to be just as insane, but there is something genuine in the crazed thoughts.  If you take out the parts where Frederick Barthelme ends up with spikes through his wrists you can almost understand the great effect Barthelme's words might have on the average reader.

Frederick Barthelme in many ways understands he's a god of sorts.  He tries to ignore these ideas, keeps to himself inside a small shack within his office at some university in the south.  From time to time he'll grasp his great powers and unleash it upon the masses, but like most un-crucified gods he releases these works to general obscurity.