"We feel these days," Fanny wrote to Langston Hughes, "as if we are about to be catapulted into something unknown — of which we are both hopeful and afraid."

"We feel these days," Fanny wrote to Langston Hughes, "as if we are about to be catapulted into something unknown — of which we are both hopeful and afraid."

He missed his wife intensely: “To paraphrase myself, I love you, write me, I’m lonely, and envious of your old lovers who for whatever pretext, have simply to walk up the street to see you.”

Fanny wrote back, “My dear, all my former lovers are dead. I don’t even remember who they were.”

He missed his wife intensely: “To paraphrase myself, I love you, write me, I’m lonely, and envious of your old lovers who for whatever pretext, have simply to walk up the street to see you.”

Fanny wrote back, “My dear, all my former lovers are dead. I don’t even remember who they were.”

Struck by the completeness of New York, much of it still as it was in 1930. Today is Thanksgiving Day and the streets are emptied of humanity, Prince Street swept clean of people, every detail of the fretted fronts of warehouses clear and sharp, buildings cut up like cheese, segmented against the sky. It was like this the Thanksgiving Day after JFK’s assassination, when I walked down a totally empty Seventh Avenue with not a soul to be seen.

Struck by the completeness of New York, much of it still as it was in 1930. Today is Thanksgiving Day and the streets are emptied of humanity, Prince Street swept clean of people, every detail of the fretted fronts of warehouses clear and sharp, buildings cut up like cheese, segmented against the sky. It was like this the Thanksgiving Day after JFK’s assassination, when I walked down a totally empty Seventh Avenue with not a soul to be seen.

When, like today, I feel I have got a little way with a plot and knock off for the day, it is like a climber going up a sheer face who pitches camp on a narrow ledge. Tomorrow he may get no further; he may even roll off during the night.

When, like today, I feel I have got a little way with a plot and knock off for the day, it is like a climber going up a sheer face who pitches camp on a narrow ledge. Tomorrow he may get no further; he may even roll off during the night.

I do not like knowing these hard stories, even if it is about a person I care so much for. But I would like them a lot less if I was the one telling them. I know we can’t forget what happened to us, even if a choice made now, today, projects itself backwards to change our past actions as Milosz wrote. From that vantage the past is as nebulous and alterable as the present. Taking the next logical leap, it means that the present is as fixed as what preceded it.

I do not like knowing these hard stories, even if it is about a person I care so much for. But I would like them a lot less if I was the one telling them. I know we can’t forget what happened to us, even if a choice made now, today, projects itself backwards to change our past actions as Milosz wrote. From that vantage the past is as nebulous and alterable as the present. Taking the next logical leap, it means that the present is as fixed as what preceded it.

She would ask terrible questions all the time, e.g. “What do you think Lawrence Durrell was thinking when he wrote Justine?” or “Can I get egg whites on a flagel?” (A flagel refers to a flat bagel.) I looked up what happened to her yesterday: she does PR for Maybelline.

She would ask terrible questions all the time, e.g. “What do you think Lawrence Durrell was thinking when he wrote Justine?” or “Can I get egg whites on a flagel?” (A flagel refers to a flat bagel.) I looked up what happened to her yesterday: she does PR for Maybelline.

Twelve months ago, the idea of uprooting myself for that reason seemed unfeminist and absurd to me.

Twelve months ago, the idea of uprooting myself for that reason seemed unfeminist and absurd to me.

A friend wrote to Alfred that talking to Dorothy was like “talking to a mirror in which one didn’t see oneself but someone else. She presents no problem, no burden or personality to be dealt with. One can be with her and at the same time alone with oneself.”

A friend wrote to Alfred that talking to Dorothy was like “talking to a mirror in which one didn’t see oneself but someone else. She presents no problem, no burden or personality to be dealt with. One can be with her and at the same time alone with oneself.”

days of discipline by taylor hine

days of discipline by taylor hine

He’s the only man I regret.

He’s the only man I regret.

sketch of the present by catherine engh

sketch of the present by catherine engh

Begging for An Inexpensive Horoscope

The Only Fruit

by KARA VANDERBIJL

“Don’t avoid what is easy,” the Oblique Strategy recommends. Instead of writing, I take a nap. I fall asleep like a person escaping from jail. This torn scrap of paper, this cheap horoscope, this song lyric — I take them as prophecy. “Have a donut,” my coworker says.

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Voicing a Damp Rat For Your Amusement

Man, Beast and Fox

by DICK CHENEY

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
dir. Jonathan Liebesman
112 minutes

There was a woman who loved a dolphin, and Michael Bay once got a “she’s coming onto me” vibe from an orangutan from the San Diego Zoo, but animals have rarely sought sexual completeness from human beings until Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Watching Megan Fox fend off sexual harassment from the two lewdest ninja turtles was uncomfortable; the fact that she had to fend off the advances of Gob Bluth (Will Arnett) made it all the more puzzling.

There is a moment in almost every Michael Bay movie where you stop and ask yourself what disturbed sexual fantasy from his past he is reenacting. That moment in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles came when Megan Fox was stroking a large CGI rat on his deathbed, and the rat is voiced by Tony Shalhoub. The rat’s nose and fur has become somewhat damp as he whinges from her touch. Splinter/Steven Spielberg concordance aside, Megan Fox looked old enough to be that rat’s mother.

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Preferring A Drug-Free Galaxy

Known for Its Decor

by MIA NGUYEN

Guardians of the Galaxy
dir. James Gunn
122 minutes

It was my first time going to the Vista Theatre in Los Feliz, known for its historical architecture and beautiful egyptian decor. The experience melted my face off without involving any hallucinogens or psychedelics.

The year is 1988.

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It seemed like we both liked the idea of being friends, and I am far from ashamed to admit I needed one. I dismissed thoughts of possessing her, but only for a time, the way a pig does not know the hunger for finer meals when he consumes his slop.

It seemed like we both liked the idea of being friends, and I am far from ashamed to admit I needed one. I dismissed thoughts of possessing her, but only for a time, the way a pig does not know the hunger for finer meals when he consumes his slop.