Dolby Disaster

Kierkegaard mentions “love from the soul” copiously, and I think his is about the optimum discussion of the “soul” I’ve ever observed, because it explains simply: it’s just everything not having to do with sex and lust. “Soul” has long been one of my least favorite words, though I’ve never fully understood why. One reason … Read more“An Undermining of the ‘Soul’ in Love, Framing Kierkegaard’s Discussion of Don Giovanni”

Certain musics Handle us steady, and Keep us aloof . Amidst The ocean When we pass billboards.

Beauty Convalesces by day to Emerge At Night under Beer trappings like Wild geese Swinging By the ceiling fans you Saw yesterday in my eye.

Amidst many mythologies and urban legends, we have PJ Harvey, a woman the semantics of whose discography run the full gamut of human perspectives — from self-conscious “Dress” teenie, to “Man-Size,” to Uh Huh Her, a vial of acute, staggering loneliness. Listening to Uh Huh Her for the first time was like getting a letter … Read more“PJ Harvey’s Uh Huh Her– Looking Back after 10 Years”

And the world has always been a lusting haven of thriving pickaxing, To show you the very Pain of ex- istence, . Of looking At the stars to behold one of youth Whose pate Is of a virgin’s decor along your mother’s sanctuary.

Franny and Zooey is a 200-page novel by Salinger separated into two parts — “Franny” and “Zooey.” The second part is inundated by the presence of the other, unlike the first part, which is strictly Franny’s world. The entire novel is set in, I think, a total of about four rooms, and mostly in one … Read more“Fiction Profile: Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour / an Introduction by J.D. Salinger”

When you’ve heard true poetry, You finally realize what a kiss is again, And it ceases to be meaningless, It ceases To be an arbitrary, unmonitored enterprise. . The sun Beams in from The ivy

You’ve been disheveled, Your vices like goods no one wants to receive. . You’re obviously going to take your own picture, Because of The friends you don’t take.

…The world at your fingertips In a dead door’s game When we’re like monks, Hailed for things we didn’t want anyway . So in conquest what we conquer is surprise And wisdom is old wisdom, That keeps us alive For as long as its firing lip song breaks.

I feel inbred from the sun, like it knows my frame too well, if it looks too directly at me. This moistens, as others may notice it in me. We live on flat land, and the ground dances with the torture of all the dead, ours to behold, the comedic kaleidoscope of all those lives … Read more“Freeze”