A little bird just alighted upon my shoulder and chirruped some interesting news in my ear.

That little bird's name? Chuck-fucking-Palahniuk*. And you know what he had to say?

Obviously, you do, because you read the headline. Rant is finally headed for the big screen!!! From Chuck:

As of last night we've finalized a deal for James Franco to option my novel Rant. Details about the casting, shooting and a proposed release date will be forthcoming. Hurray. After the opportunity to work with Brad Pitt, Edward Norton and Sam Rockwell, I can't imagine a more exciting actor to work with than Franco.

I imagine this is going to stir up some controversy within Chuck's fanbase. On the one hand, Rant is going to be made into a movie. On the other, it's under the creative leadership of James Franco. Personally, I've grown to appreciate the man and his work. He did a great job with Cormac McCarthy's Child of God, and he's currently filming one of my all-time favorite novels, Steve Erickson's Zeroville. So I want him to succeed. I have a vested interest. And now, so do a legion of Chuck fans.

No word yet on whether Franco will be starring and/or directing, but you've got to imagine he'll be filling at least one of those roles. What do you guys think? Right man for the job? What's your ideal cast? Sound off in the comments.

*Okay, technically I heard it from a little bird that heard it from a little bird named Chuck Palahniuk. Close enough. My ears are still tingling.

Buster Casey, destined to live fast, die young and murder as many people as he can, is the rotten seed at the core of Palahniuk's comically nasty eighth novel (after Haunted; Lullaby; Diary; etc.). Set in a future where urbanites are segregated by strict curfews into Daytimers and Nighttimers, the narrative unfolds as an oral history comprising contradictory accounts from people who knew Buster. These include childhood friends horrified by the boy's macabre behavior (getting snakes, scorpions and spiders to bite him and induce instant erections; repeatedly infecting himself with rabies), policemen and doctors who had dealings with the rabies "superspreader"; and Party Crashers, thrill-seeking Nighttimers who turn city streets into demolition derby arenas. After liberally infecting his hometown peers with rabies, Buster hits the big city and takes up with the Party Crashers. A series of deaths lead to a police investigation of Buster (long-since known as "Rant"—the sound children make while vomiting) that peaks just as Buster apparently commits suicide in a blaze of car-crash glory. This dark religious parable (there's even a resurrection) from the master of grotesque excess may not attract new readers, but it will delight old ones.

After the opportunity to work with Brad Pitt, Edward Norton and Sam Rockwell, I can't imagine a more exciting actor to work with than Franco.