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Dispatches from a lapsed blogger
I’ve been thinking about one of my old guilty pleasures, one I suspect I’ve talked about before on here, as (nearly) 11 years in I suspect I’ve exhausted all original thoughts or inspirations. And...
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Never real
You’ve always lived a life of pretense, not a real life – a simulated existence. Everything about you, everything you are, has always been pretense, never genuine, never real. Woodcutters, Thomas...
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The Christmas Chronicles
Nearly the end of the decade, although it doesn’t feel like it. I can’t tell whether it’s my age, or the age I live in, but this decade doesn’t feel like it has the shape or feel of those of the last...
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Private mythology
Presumably all obsessions are extreme metaphors waiting to be born. That whole private mythology, in which I believe totally, is a collaboration between one’s conscious mind and those obsessions that,...
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They give away more than they can possibly keep
I can see what is engaging the newspaper reader’s attention: the recent sensational reports from Budapest. They have been given a bold headline. They are presented in a fluffy, tempting, positively...
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Patriotism
To love means to esteem—even perhaps to overestimate—the object of love. To love with open eyes, critically, is something only very few people are capable of doing. Most people’s love is blind. Most...
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Cathedral Et Chartres
So much distance is meant by it: just as with the backdrop of a scene the world is meant; and as through that scene the hero strides, cloaked in his action’s mantle: — so the darkness of this doorway...
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Everything you really need, and no more
The good hotel room is, in fact, the city’s paradigm: it provides everything you really need, and no more. The rest is out there; your dining room the city’s restaurants, your garden the city’s parks,...
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Shopping Mall
I’ve been mulling, leaving and returning to this post for some time now. And things change, or stay the same, it is hard to tell. Early on in all this I found it hard to settle to read anything until...
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Never was a cloudy day
At the start of the year I decided to keep a diary. I challenged myself to write something, anything, for every day of the year. I’ve thought about describing this as prescient, but of course I didn’t...
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