(Not the Cohen version, but rather the best version in existence ( Read more... )

Interviewer: So you really are the least interesting man in the world.  I have to say, that's quite an accomplishment.  What is it like?

Me: It's a surprisingly large amount of work, actually.  [Laughs.]  All you have to do is try desperately to be fascinating.  It's harder than it sounds, but the results are pretty much guaranteed.

Quite often when it seems like life is veering out of control, I return to the Samuel Johnson's collected diaries and prayers.  Not for their religious content per se, but more as a way of reminding myself that I am not living in isolation, and that I am not the first person to have concerns and anxieties about productivity and moral direction ( Read more... )

Me: I don't know.  You're a poet.  You might get this.  I might just be insane.

Interviewer: Please.

Me: I know this sounds crazy.  But, what do you do when you look at someone, and you see a golden light shining from them.  Like, you look at them, but see something that just shines through them.  And when you look at them long enough, it's all ( Read more... )

I listened to Brothers in Arms the other day for the first time since Kate left.  Which, for those keeping track, was 2007.

After all this time, it's not exactly the album I remember it being.

But, still, listening to it all the way through is something.  A small something, perhaps, but still more than nothing.

The Thrills -- Deckchairs and Cigarettes ( Read more... )

An unusual fit of productivity seized me this morning at 02:20 when I could not sleep and decided, instead, to look after some train society business. I also read a chapter in Bruce Dowbiggin's The Stick, a history of the development of the hockey stick ( Read more... )

Like everyone, I am still wondering what the US presidential election is going to look like once the dust settles ( Read more... )

Just when you think that you are inhabiting the least respected, least interesting, least relevant and otherwise most obscure zone of academia, you are suddenly reminded that Critical Dance Studies exists.

Yes...it could be worse.

Why did I wake up with Kylie Minogue in my head this morning?