As I was perusing Reading Lolita in Tehran a few minutes ago, I came across a passage that seemed strikingly familiar to me ( Read more... )

Non fui. Sum. Fui. Non sum. I see that I have become as irrelevant as Azar Nafisi felt in early days of the Islamic Republic of Iran. Some would readily jump to one's side, pulling him back with halfhearted words, while other dimensions lay looming, waiting to be probed in some fashion. Reductio ad absurdum I am--and this and the above Latin ( Read more... )

Well, droogs, I'm off to the Caribbean for a week. But, as Alphonse Elric has wisely stated, "humankind cannot gain anything without giving up something in return." And so I bid thee well, Ashique Muhammad Rezaur Rahman on thy unfortunate trek to the Canadian wilderness. Bog (this is to say God) bless you for being such a nonpareil friend over ( Read more... )

It really is fascinating how Livejournal/Xanga/Blog entries work. Ones in which the author invests time weighing words for impact and rhetorical value are frequently bare, but frivolous attempts are greatly rewarded ( Read more... )

I have not updated in what feels like ages, although only nine paltry days have passed. I wonder if they were paltry. I have felt abjectly depressed for at least half of those, for reason which probably carry little weight to others save myself and for which I am sure little empathy could be derived ( Read more... )

IB scores were released today. With a mixture of disappointment and consternation, I viewed the following ( Read more... )

"'When I hear you give your reasons,' I remarked, 'the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously simple that I could easily do it myself, thought at each successive instance of your reasoning I am baffled until you explain your process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good as yours ( Read more... )

"You take a really sleepy man, Esmé, and he always stands a chance of again becoming a man with all his fac--with all his f-a-c-u-l-t-i-e-s intact."
For Esmé--with Love and SqualorI've stayed too long under the beating hum of these lights, the incessant drumming upon my skull that liquifies time and space into a mucous substance. As Bilbo Baggins ( Read more... )

I just returned home frome seeing Mel Brooks' The Producers. Genius. I laughed incessantly all throughout the "Springtime for Hitler" sequence. A Gay Romp with Adolf and Eva at Berchtesgaden Haha! I implore those reading this to see it while it's still here.

Two days ago was an existential overload. I first finished reading Albert Camus' ( Read more... )

Before I begin, I promise I shall finish answering the questions for all those who replied to my last entry. I just had had neither the nor the will to complete them yet ( Read more... )