"Aaron Black" hipped me to his screeds over a year ago by linking me to his lonely little corner of the internet where he'd been angrily, yet amusingly blogging in near anonymity. Mr. Black was looking for a more suitable outlet for his work, and I was short on suggestions. Jonathan Gold had LA's local weekly rag wrapped up with his reliable, yet almost always food-friendly Counter Intelligence column, and every major old media outlet already had their share of critics pandering to any cafe, bistro, patisserie, pananderia, pub, or pissoir willing to comp a meal or advertise. Besides, Black's work was much more than about just food; his jeremiads were his literal reaction to being wronged - wronged by bad food, bad service, bad locations, bad parking, bad hair - you name it. Also, Black is not some restaurant snob stymied by the constraint of an expense account, and his baditude might cover any locale demanding that you pay to be pampered: hotels, restaurants, casinos, movie emporiums, sports palaces, amusement parks, massage parlors -- you name it.
When I hooked up with Tucker Max, and Rudius was born, I knew that the perfect platform for Black's unlimited potential had been found.
Behold... The Wreckoning
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