Monthly Archives: January 2011

The Geographer’s Library by Jon Fasman

…The Geographer’s Library, a remarkable debut, is recommended for anyone who wants to see what a good mind can make of interesting research material. This stands in contrast to Dan Brown’s dumbing things down to cinematic levels, and elevates the historical mystery toward art… Continue reading

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A Foreshadowing

…Once there, I’m told to lose my clothes down to my underwear and hop onto an exam table. I’m scared now, wondering if there’s been some biochemical attack. I ask but none of the soldiers respond to any questions… Continue reading

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Marks, Not Memory

…that was the beginning of writing, and marks, and the end of memory… Continue reading

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An Idle Question to Set a Certain Tone of Inquiry

…Idle question: Ready?… Continue reading

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Listening to Mozart’s “Requiem”

…When confronted with his own genius, he once wrote, “Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.” He meant love of what one does… Continue reading

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Real Patriots

…Maintaining freedoms and liberties, such as freedom of speech — no matter how galling or appalling it may seem to some — and the liberty to travel as one will — no matter the ethnic origins or skin color — is the only patriot thing to do… Continue reading

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Whence the Anger?

…Where I got this visceral, abiding hatred for brutes and bullies, this implacable determination to capture violence and its consequences in words and images, I cannot figure out… Continue reading

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Trial By Science Fiction: A New Metaphor

…A court and trial metaphor, on the other hand, refines this blatant competitiveness while leaving intact the basic predatory context. Lawyers are often called sharks, for example. They speak of eating the other’s lunch and of tearing testimony apart.

Let’s examine some reasons for switching to the trial referent… Continue reading

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N’awlins Shout

…And it was only in retrospect that I realized what I’d done: I’d shouted at the devil. Just like the old folk advice tells you to do. Just like that old heavy metal song insists, too. Did it quite naturally and unconsciously… Continue reading

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The Crime

…Is it any wonder, then, that my knees buckle, my control leaves me, when I come home the very next night — the very night after I had shouldered the blame and made up with her, for the kids¹ sakes — to find her at it again?… Continue reading

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