certainly a martyr must have a cause—and charlie kirk’s was nazism. hope that clears things up

really neat trick!

i guess the US will never have its denazification 😭 here, hitler’s heirs get enshrined as the most noble of dissidents: unjustly suppressed and grossly penalized. their reckless extremism—retooled as contrary spirit, enlivening provocation—beautifies as intellectually worthwhile

maybe it was a stray bullet

on this day of our lord i was cured of the disease of liking aime leon dore’s clothing 🙌

Pleased to announce that THE HUNGER, my collection of film criticism (coming in November from @TheFilmDesk), is available for preorder now.

Bring back PBS-style lectures on continental philosophy. American's children need them.

teju cole in his novel open city gives an instance of running so opposed to life that it results in death

mark greif in “against exercise” joins baudrillard in his feeling about the runner’s activity being anti-social, opposed to life

happiness continues to elude me but whateva

when i was a child boredom felt like frustration, as an adult it always feels like sadness

JUST IN: Xi Jinping says, in meeting with India's Modi, that it is 'time for the dragon and the elephant to dance together'.

how’s a fella supposed to get any writing done with all this tennis going on

the sort of thing werner herzog would say

my landlord claimed never to have heard the sense of “outstanding” i was using when i mentioned my “outstanding rent” (now paid off)

i love my private life, even though it is riddled with Troubles

Ok this is pretty cool. I just found out I'm the only guy for whom reading is not performative but rather an authentic expression of an appealingly inclusive and non-reactionary cosmopolitan masculinity.

What?

“can i ask you why?” said the man. i hesitated before describing the nature of my work at a newsmagazine (which didn’t account for “why” i did anything, but was apparently acceptable as answer even so) and receiving in reply his request to interview me for his tiktok. i declined.

a young man of maybe my age approached me in the park; “people still read on paper?” he asked, drawing nearer. i’d printed some review-essays to leaf through from my postprandial perch on a favored bench. i brushed aside the bug crawling up my pant. “well, yes,” i offered warily.