Thursday, September 21, 2006


Slow days on the po-blogosphere, it seems – at least from where I'm crouching. The real standouts in my limited surfing time are the steady stream of wonderful nuggets from Jonathan Mayhew's Bemsha Swing & the continuous paratactic splendor of John Latta's Isola di Rifiuti. Why waste your time here?
Splendidly unchurched students in my Bible-as-lit course this Fall.
Trivia from Antonia Fraser's biography of Cromwell: Sigmund Freud named one of his sons "Oliver" in honor of Old Noll's efforts on behalf of letting the Jews back into England.
Best couplet from the first half of the 17th c.: the opening of Andrew Marvell's "Tom May's Death," satirical account of the journey into the underworld of the poetaster May, one of the least talented of the "Sons of Ben [Jonson]" (who appears to have died after a drinking bout):
As one put drunk into the packet-boat,
Tom May was hurried hence and did not know't.
Bastard Ashbery's already taken the 1st line for a title.


Pam said...

Sorry if this is a double, I've never blogged you before. I just want to say that I wish I could have joined your "unchurched" bible as lit class. If only I could have found the time...right now, I'm writing boring corporate newsletters. This "day job" has turned into an all-night job. It was good to see you today. Now that I'm not in your class, I have no ulterior motive and can tell you how brilliant I think you are.

Pam said...

Hmmm, seems that the splash of Vodka I had at 2 a.m. (to help me be creative as I wrote those boring newsletters) had a gushing affect. Perfect for newsletter writing, perhaps, maybe not-so-perfect for blogging. I'm blushing.