Monthly Archives: March 2015
Four strategic challenges for Israel’s next government
China is about to make its boldest financial reform in years
The Iran nuclear talks pivot on one person
What I learned about the ‘perfect female body’ from my year as a bodybuilder
View From a Hotel Window: Perth
Taken earlier today, before I took a jetlag-laden nap. I was mildly concerned that if I took a nap in the afternoon I would be unable to sleep this evening, but now it’s evening here in Perth and I’m here to tell you, I will have no trouble sleeping. 34 hours of travel is exhausting.
First impression of Perth: Seems nice, and more than a little bit like San Diego in terms of climate and vibe. There are worse places to be like.
Off to do a little writing and then sleeeeeeep.
In the Dark of Light (Poem)
In the Dark of Light
In the light I play,
porous and awash under sun,
where the colours are more
than they are, strewn upon the ground
in their wildest symmetries –
and I am emerging into
all that I am, until the
sun sees through me
and I can’t bring my body to
hold its luminescence –
I close my eyes and wait
for nature’s rhythms to carve
smooth this rupture.
Colors and shapes dance ecstatic
before my eyes to their own echo, and in
this shadowy place I retreat,
not quite unafraid, having birthed
in its swell of memories,
certain now that the absence of
earthly hues I’ve tried to
forge into my skin is
today’s calling,
so I enter and rest, soothing
my frantic chest, swimming through
and whispering into the silence
while my bones quiver, threatening to fall –
I reach one hand out to catch
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Book #79: Naked Lunch
I need a vacation.
Naked Lunch is, without a doubt, the most tortured reading experience I’ve ever had. After about 110 pages, I finally just started skimming the novel for the final 100 pages or so.
It’s brutal.
That sounds like hyperbole. But, no, it’s truly a brutal novel to read. I could barely stomach it.
I’ve already shared a passage from Naked Lunch with you—you know, the one I called the most vile passage I’ve ever read. I won’t re-post it here, in an effort to make sure my blog doesn’t show up on some kind of watch list.
William Burroughs openly admits to not remembering having written Naked Lunch. He wrote it over the course of several years, while binging on heroin. I’ve never taken heroin (true story), so I can’t attest to how one might write while on heroin, but I would imagine Naked Lunch represents the…
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