Tuesday 146: Poem
Success
For a novelist, means
the ability to call
one book
a failure. For
the poet,
means
you are allowed
to be
quaint.
Success
For a novelist, means
the ability to call
one book
a failure. For
the poet,
means
you are allowed
to be
quaint.
I'll be brief: In more than one of David Foster Wallace's works, he features a consumer product used for some reason other than its intended use. I wouldn't call it a preoccupation, but it's approaching motif status: In the long short story
To fall asleep lately, I've been listening to a BBC podcast called "In Our Time," in which the host--the placid, grandfatherly voiced Melvyn Bragg--engages various scholars and academics in discussions of popular history, science, the humanities, and other general curiosities. Subjects include the 30
Picking up the pieces on a rainy Wednesday. I found myself listening to the experimental band The Books the other day, and watched a short documentary about their process. An animating preoccupation that drove the music was conversation—the idea that any juxtaposition is really a discourse. You put one
I have a tried-and-true method for pursuing things that require some willpower: Start early, and don't anticipate. When I started running consistently, it was late fall. The holidays were right around the corner, and with them the new year, which was an obvious time to adopt