Well, last Friday was George Freeman, doing his gangstalawyah imitation on us all. This week, it was Richard Holbrooke, who at the State Department and the U.N. had the closest thing to a real conscience of any of them.
But I have my usual change-of-seasons cold, and even looking at my cursory notes doesn't make me think any more clearly. I'll therefore perhaps write about him later. Tonight I'll punt to my betters on all things, and end with a quote from one of my avatars, Frederic Tuten.
The links first:
- Laura Rozen's trip down memory lane, in which she reminds us of a young, passionate Republican congressman named Richard Cheney, determined to get to the bottom of Iran-contra.
- Firedoglake: as always, your source for intelligent analysis of today's indictments and what they mean for future investigation of WHIG-gate.
- Body and Soul, even while she writes her book about torture, is keepin' one eye on how NOLA is the new neocon playpen. After all, their hit Baghdad Year Zero. was such a raging success.
And now for something completely different: a celebration of fiction - the hardest, most experimental fiction out there, too. Frederic wrote this for Fence Magazine, so if you want to read the whole thing, pick one up. (And while you're picking up magazines, if you're interested in seeing a story of mine called "Snow Angels," consider buying a copy of the new, struggling Me Three.)
Think of yourself as making art -- however bombastic or vague that may sound even to you--and not as a producer of products or units: You will thus relieve yourself of worrying about your work's social or political function, since zll art is redemptive, salvational, ennobling and is a protest against ignorance, crime, lies and Death....One beautiful novel shames all broad enterprises and sends brightness through the prison walls of prisons, parliaments, and publishing houses.
(And if you're worried about the implications of the word "salvational," click on the Fence link and giggle.)
Comments