Now that the odious Matt Walsh has given us the answer to “What is a Woman?” we must now turn to the male of the species and ask: What is a man? According to Walsh, by the way, a woman is someone who needs a man to open a pickle jar. This information comes right at the end of his…
With so many books and so little time, it helps to have a little guidance. It also helps when two or even three books can be read simultaneously – thus saving the reader valuable time for even more books. Here then is my current recommended reading list. Something for everyone here. Old Favorites Rediscovered Steppenwolf Hall – A German man…
Digging in the clutter I came across a literary game I played in the back of a college notebook. (I should have been taking notes.) It’s simple. Write down a well-known line from a poem and provide an unsuitable second line. Another way to play: Make up a random and outrageous second line and have someone guess the first. Here…
I wrote this bit of a rant in late 2018. It’s time for it to have a public airing. And then time for a pandemic era update. “Have a nice day” Perhaps the most reasonable and polite response is: “Thanks but I have other plans.” The positive psychology industry acquired a loud new division in the last few years. Moving…
New Year’s Eve and a traditional moment to look back in review and forward with a measure of whatever optimism can be mustered. Time for a little navel-gazing self-indulgence and an opportunity for some random comments and observations on some of the bright spots. I wrote 55 blog posts in 2021 including this one and the most fun to write…
The Man Who Understood the Problem Photo: Harvey Finkle: Tucson 1987 Words: The Financial Times and Kenneth Hudson Diseased English with an assist from William Shakespeare, scissors, and a glue stick.
Raw, cold, and damp but it’s still good to get out. Thanks to the ongoing lurgy there are no social gatherings, visits, or events to distract us from what is on the doorstep. Like stickybeaking tourists clogging up the sidewalks of a foreign city, we’ve been out and about spotting the everyday marvels and quotidian wonders of the neighborhood. Here’s…
The sun shining … just there in the sky like a force-ripe orange That striking image is from Samuel Selvon’s novel The Lonely Londoners. Henry Oliver, who earns the nickname Sir Galahad for his bravado, has just arrived from Trinidad. Here he is on that first morning in the big city – in Westbourne Grove – suddenly realizing he is…
Two poets in a muddle. Or rather two poems. John Ashbery’s A Mood of Quiet Beauty (from April Galleons 1987) meets T.S.Eliot’s first Prelude (Prufrock and Other Observations, 1917) You can read the originals at those links. In the spirit of OuLiPo – and just for the playful hell of it – I switched out the nouns in each poem in…
eye rhyme /ˈī ˌrīm/ noun An eye rhyme, also called a visual rhyme or a sight rhyme, is a rhyme in which two words are spelled similarly but pronounced differently. A similarity between words in spelling but not in pronunciation, e.g., love and move. This piece of complete silliness started with the Robert Louis Stevenson poem on Kaggsy’s Bookish Ramblings…
I came across “The Consent” when I was exploring Howard Nemerov’s life and work for some other posts. It seems appropriate for about now. The Consent Late in November, on a single night Not even near to freezing, the ginkgo trees That stand along the walk drop all their leaves In one consent, and neither to rain nor to wind…
Stickybeak NOUN: an intrusive, meddlesome, busybody, nosy parker who sticks their nose (beak) into other people’s business. The act of stickybeaking. VERB: to snoop or pry into other’s people’s business. This was a delightful new word for me this week although it’s clearly common currency in Australia and New Zealand. I came across it first in one of a series…
The Year Begins in October Armistead Maupin based his vignettes of gay life in 1970s San Francisco – Tales of the City – on Jan Struther’s Mrs. Miniver (1939). They first appeared in a long-running serial in the San Francisco Chronicle. Instinctively I wanted to write a gay male Mrs Miniver, the minutiae of gay life with Michael Tolliver as…
Together with a whole lot of other readers in the UK in 1976, I read Wilt – the first in a series of over-the-top, grotesque Tom Sharpe novels about the misadventures of a mild-mannered and hapless tech college teacher named Henry Wilt. He’s a rather fuddy-duddy, decent-enough, beer-drinking, everyman kind of chap given to being misunderstood, especially by his wife…
“Attention at Poughkeepsie” is how announcements begin over the sound system at Poughkeepsie station. Trains and stations have nothing at all to do with this post although Poughkeepsie has an extremely nice station – built into a rockface and designed by the same people who gave us New York’s Grand Central. No, this post has to do with the signs…