If we're all takers, craving to see.

and other half statements of conditionality that seem to rule this blog/life.

lareviewofbooks:


Dissident Gardens suggests that if you can overcome what Lethem calls “Boroughphobia,” you might find in Queens the makings of something like Utopia, a word often hard for American tongues to pronounce without irony.

Read Lee Konstantinou’s review, “Outborough Destiny: Jonathan Lethem’s Dissident Gardens”.
We are very pleased to announce that Jonathan Lethem’s Dissident Gardens is the first selection from Tom’s Book Club! Join today and get your copy of the novel, and a chance to participate in a live online discussion with the author and LARB Editor in Chief Tom Lutz.

lareviewofbooks:

Dissident Gardens suggests that if you can overcome what Lethem calls “Boroughphobia,” you might find in Queens the makings of something like Utopia, a word often hard for American tongues to pronounce without irony.

Read Lee Konstantinou’s review, “Outborough Destiny: Jonathan Lethem’s Dissident Gardens”.

We are very pleased to announce that Jonathan Lethem’s Dissident Gardens is the first selection from Tom’s Book Club! Join today and get your copy of the novel, and a chance to participate in a live online discussion with the author and LARB Editor in Chief Tom Lutz.

(Source: lareviewofbooks)

1 year ago

theparisreview:

When the world heard about the shooting prompted by a dispute over Immanuel Kant, we simultaneously recoiled at the violence and wondered that a work of philosophy should prompt such passions. 
Could it happen in America, we asked? Perhaps we have our answer.

theparisreview:

When the world heard about the shooting prompted by a dispute over Immanuel Kant, we simultaneously recoiled at the violence and wondered that a work of philosophy should prompt such passions. 

Could it happen in America, we asked? Perhaps we have our answer.

1 year ago

I’m dropped

into nostalgia tonight. Another reason to quit Facebook. Unintentional, but nostalgia’s knocking down the door anyway. Maybe I’m homesick, but I doubt that’s the case. This is not an issue of place but time - the effort of comparing a previous self to the now self. So what do I do? Look over old blog posts, my digital rendering of a self over time. Only, in the looking back, I can’t tell any longer what I wrote and what I reposted. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe they’re the same thing.