Sunday, September 8, 2013
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Monday, July 29, 2013
Friday, July 12, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Looking for Simone Weil
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Truth Is
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
SOMETIMES
Sometimes, standing and looking at the river encircling Manhattan I'll think of Walt Whitman looking at it 150 years ago and I start to wish there was a book that was like him leaning on a railing and seeing stuff, but the stuff of today. I want to read that book.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Friday, December 19, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
Saturday, December 15, 2007
With Feeling
There's a guy behind me on the train typing away on his laptop like Arthur Rubinstein in a tux and tails pounding away at a Steinway concert grand in Carnegie Hall. Tappity tap tap tap tappit tap tappity tap! Every sentence ends with a flourish. He's 5 rows behind me and it sounds like he's inside my head. I don't know why it bothers me so. Part of it is just my aversion to ostentation. But most of it is just that he's probably got some good job that has full health and dental and he drives a car that has a working air conditioner and he's got this important thing to write up for work or else some chatty email about the trip to Viet Nam he just got back from; meanwhile, I'm staring at my phone and pushing buttons with my thumbs like it's some broken candy machine. And I'm tired.
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