The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age

Blog Posts

[Media] Tribute vs Obit - what's its role?

Marketing by any other name?

Partisan swag?

A public service?

Kinda depends who's holding.

Art(ificial) Intel(ligence)

Barr & Trump's soiled reputations

Elie Honing leads with Barr's embarrassing, corrupt and revealing texts:

https://cafe.com/elies-note/note-from-elie-bill-barrs-revisionist-bs/

And then there's Barr's dishonest book promotion tour:

 

First, as a warmup, here's a piece I wrote last week about Barr's image rehab effort. /2https://t.co/W9qgqMIcdf

[COVID & Vaccines] it ain't over til it's over

Nixon on the Trail

Memoir from Nixon aide Dwight Chapin, nice anecdotes from a different time

https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2022/02/12/richard-nixon-final-da...

Jan6 62-tweet salute

Renegotiating Sex

One of the more intelligent overviews of multifaceted issues around sex, including issues of obligation and the politics of desire and of course (the illusion of?) personal taste.

London Review of Books

Vol. 40 No. 6 · 22 March 2018

Does anyone have the right to sex?

Amia Srinivasan

Culture Club - Paweł Domurat

Quite an amazing photo tour around world culture.

https://m.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006911313418

Which is harder than it might seem:

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Personal Information

Superpowers
Defies gravity Can spit really far Almost touch my toes Can cut a fly's legs off with a beer cap from 20 paces Know how to say useless stuff and prattle on in a dozen languages Don't know when to shut up
Favorite Quotes
To be for or against the Plague, it's much the same thing. Fiddledee, how a body shure do get around - just 2 weeks ago I was in Mississippi and now I'm all the way to Tennessee... Eat or Be Eaten Better to be pissed off than pissed on.
Biography
Born in swaddling clothes (designer, of course) at the confluence of big waters, my first recorded words were "Dad, can I have the keys to the car?" Raised a Southern Pedestrian, my musical talents were recognized at an early age, leading to my being exiled to the shed out back with a stack of books that became my eddykayshun - advanced readin', writin' & ritmytick, creating a major quandary of "what will I do, oh what will I do?" (Gunslinger) As an old black man advised in song, "You Gotta Move", so move I did, traveling the byways sideways even a lot of driveways, picking up sticks and psychological tics, even movin' to Beverlee through a quaint misunderstanding of the seriousness of TV series, until finally I blew up so big the carry nation incarnation tarnation couldn't hold me no more, so I fixed my sights on yonder sitar, and like Queequeg and Paul Bowles and one of those abducted kids by the Pied Piper of Hamelin, I ventured forth to the larger world, pickin' and grinnin', doin' me some reckonin' and naughts from naughts, occasionally rightin', building me some buildings and wiring and just trying to understand the babble comin' out of people's mouths and heads, I finally ended up in what Rummy quaintly calls "New Europe", which ain't so new from what I sees, but that pit in my stomach from lack-of-moving-sickness finally disappeared, and instead I sit behind a whopping big desk stacked with missives from all the chiefs with big whampum around the world telling me "what's going on". Which seems like a load of boolshit to me, but I guess that's what keeps me busy and entertained now, separatin' the weeds from the chapstick. So my name is Perry Keys, or Peracles to you, and since my mammy always said, "say please and thank you", I added the please, but I'm holdin' back on that thankee until I feel you've earned it. But do welcome, and I hope we's a gonna have a real good time. It all starts with, "I wuz born a poor young white chile livin' in the South..." and we cycle through again, like Nietzsche and his infernal regurgence. So enjoy, and let's spin a spell...

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