Who are his influences?

Am I the only one who thinks Pynchon is the direct literary descendant of Nathaniel Hawthorne?

I didn't get Pynchon vibes from Blood Meridian at all

I meant West, whoops.

Anyway, me neither, buddy.

Pynchons my fav writer for sure because my fav thing in books is goofs, gags, jokes and rambunctious behavior, and his books are full to the brim of it. Every novel is like one of those novelty snake cans, you open the book & POP you get a face fulla snakes and you fall back cackling. The mad mind, the crack genius, to do it! and then you think hmmm whats he gonna do next, this trickster, and you pick the book back up and BZZZZZZZZZZ you get a shock and Hahahahahah you've been pranked again by the old pynchmeister, that card. "Did that Pynch?" he says, laughing yukyukyukyuk. Watch him as he shoves a pair of plastic buck teeth right up into his mouth and displays em for you- left, right, center- "you like dese? Do i look handsome???" Pulls out a mirror. "Ah!" Hand to naughty mouth. And you're on your ass again laughing as he snaps his suspenders, exits stage right, and appears again hauling a huge golden gong.

i never understand why people save copypastas

Lewis Mumford, at least for Gravity's Rainbow

People always forget Kafka with all the other names. I find them very similar in certain stories.

Faulkner and Kerouac I'd say

it's kind of crazy the most iconic elements of his writing he seemed to invent out of thin air

Zapp comics?

Ah, Gravity's Rainbow, Jackson? That novel is the pantaloon and banyan of literature, the stratosphere whereon came the schadenfreude of postmodernism, conditioned in some desolate sanitarium under the toilet, the sturm und drang of negro dingleberries ministered by the lord of the night, paranoid proverbs of aromatic polymers. Our eyes screamed across the pages, Jackson, of that engineer's zootsuit like Kirghiz lights, Visitations of white, teenage pussy and Poisson distributions of hanged men upon holy mountains and grippe espagnole and truncheon. We smoked, Jackson, the doper's dream of gauchos and Manifest Destiny of our twelfth house into the interface of its pretrite and elect adenoid, whispering in the quim and the imipolex like Kekuléan fantods, tantivies and muckermafficks of the counterforce, Pig Bodines of intersex latrines, with Maxwell's demon and crash test dummies squat in the mittelwerk of our Reich, abandoned leftnants of the scryed page, it was total revolution, Jackson, we were the GIs of the tract too, ass over teakettle and back-asswards with dreams often tasking us to pens, listening to the Schwarzkommando fucking in the Zone while we smoaked the turd rise out of a chasm of tellurian ripples, pigmen, rocketmen, octopi, dodos, hobos, Prussian pussy-averse stormtroopers, theatrical radii of homosexual conspirators and pedophillic Pointsmen, isotopes of fluoride and immortal halogen bulbs of the other side's coal-tar kabbalists.

the chronology doesn't really fit ... but i have noticed Crumb using stuff like "sez" that I thought were strictly Pynchonisms

Did you just use the Burroguhs cut-up machine on a Gravity's Rainbow summary page and turn the outcome into one sentence?

It was probably based on this

ah, blood meridian, monsieur? that novel is the sark and chaparral of literature, the filament whereon rode the remuda of highbrow, corraled out of some destitute hacienda upon the arroya, quirting and splurting with main and with pyrolatrous coagulate of lobated grandiloquence. our eyes rode over the pages, monsieur, of that slatribed azotea like argonauts of suttee, juzgados of swole, bights and systoles of walleyed and tyrolean and carbolic and tectite and scurvid and querent and creosote and scapular malpais and shellalagh. we scalped, monsieur, the gantlet of its esker and led our naked bodies into the rebozos of its mennonite and siliceous fauna, wallowing in the jasper and the carnelian like archimandrites, teamsters, combers of cassinette scoria, centroids of holothurian chancre, with pizzles of enfiladed indigo panic grass in the saltbush of our vigas, true commodores of the written page, rebuses, monsieur, we were the mygale spiders too and the devonian and debouched pulque that settled on the frizzen studebakers, listening the wolves howling in the desert while we saw the judge rise out of a thicket of corbelled arches, whinstone, cairn, cholla, lemurs, femurs, leantos, moonblanched nacre, uncottered fistulas of groaning osnaburg and kelp, isomers of fluepipe and halms awap of griddle, guisado, pelancillo.

>Baedeker
that's like saying you were influenced by wikipedia

user's making a joke cause pynchon says he basically plaguerized baedeker's guides for V.

Burroughs, Kerouac, David Foster Wallace, Wittgenstein...