1. 18:51 25th Jun 2012

    Notes: 2

    Tags: john mcpheethe new yorkervirginia woolfjohn d'agatawilliam shawnbob gottliebreally extraordinary uses of profanity

    paging john d’agata, amongst others

    Art is where you find it. Good writing is where you find it. Fiction, in my view, is much harder to do than fact, because the fiction writer moves forward by trial and error, while the fact writer is working with a certain body of collected material, and can set up a structure beforehand. It is sometimes said that the line between fiction and nonfiction has become blurred. Not in this eye, among beholders. The difference between the two is distinct. Curious this: “Fiction must stick to facts, and the truer the facts the better the fiction—so we are told.” Virginia Woolf, “A Room of One’s Own.”

    -from John McPhee’s seriously wonderful piece “Editors & Publisher,” in today’s issue of The New Yorker. If you’re at all interested in the history of the magazine, go read it. It also includes what might be the greatest sentence we’ve ever published, ever: “Fuck, fucker, fuckest; fuckest, fucker, fuck.”

     

  2. 20:12 8th Jun 2012

    Tags: Back IssuesBelmont StakesThe New Yorkercome to my window tomorrowhorse racingracetrackself-promotion

    I’ve got a new post up on The New Yorker’s site, for their Back Issues blog:  http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/backissues/2012/06/betting-and-the-belmont.html It’s mostly an ode to the horse gambling of nearly a century ago, with short excerpts from amazing pieces by Morris Markey and A. J. Liebling about bookmakers and betting rings in the thirties, forties, and fifties. One of my favorite lines, from the Markey, written in May of 1934: The whole world nowadays is in a mood to touch pleasure and minor sinfulness. The human instinct for gambling is being recognized by governments not only as an eternal frailty of mortal man but as a means for imposing taxes which nobody has the courage to grumble about. It’s been a really weird day. When Doug O’Neill scratched I’ll Have Another this afternoon, I felt a strange sense of loss: I’d been so hopeful about this one, but so torn up about what these trainers and owners have been doing to their horses—O’Neill among them. This seemed like the right decision—a trainer putting the horse first—but it was still a sad one. The state of racing in this country is perilous at best, and the momentum from the Triple Crown and the collective good cheer felt like a really wonderful turn. Tomorrow, we’ll be talking about one thing. A decision, a loss—or just a scratch. Racing folks, my customers, anyway, always seem to be looking backwards. We’ll carry on that tradition tomorrow.  If you happen to be at Belmont tomorrow, send me a message. I’m happy to take your bet. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to report, no matter who wins the Stakes.

    I’ve got a new post up on The New Yorker’s site, for their Back Issues blog: 

    http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/backissues/2012/06/betting-and-the-belmont.html

    It’s mostly an ode to the horse gambling of nearly a century ago, with short excerpts from amazing pieces by Morris Markey and A. J. Liebling about bookmakers and betting rings in the thirties, forties, and fifties. One of my favorite lines, from the Markey, written in May of 1934:

    The whole world nowadays is in a mood to touch pleasure and minor sinfulness. The human instinct for gambling is being recognized by governments not only as an eternal frailty of mortal man but as a means for imposing taxes which nobody has the courage to grumble about.

    It’s been a really weird day. When Doug O’Neill scratched I’ll Have Another this afternoon, I felt a strange sense of loss: I’d been so hopeful about this one, but so torn up about what these trainers and owners have been doing to their horses—O’Neill among them. This seemed like the right decision—a trainer putting the horse first—but it was still a sad one. The state of racing in this country is perilous at best, and the momentum from the Triple Crown and the collective good cheer felt like a really wonderful turn. Tomorrow, we’ll be talking about one thing. A decision, a loss—or just a scratch. Racing folks, my customers, anyway, always seem to be looking backwards. We’ll carry on that tradition tomorrow. 

    If you happen to be at Belmont tomorrow, send me a message. I’m happy to take your bet. I’m sure I’ll have plenty to report, no matter who wins the Stakes.

     

  3. 21:51 16th Apr 2012

    Notes: 1

    Tags: girlshbointernettelevisionthe awlthe new yorkersometimes hyperbole is OK?

    case in point

    So after all that, the five billion posters on the subway and the sides of buildings and everyone going on and on with their reactions and counter-reactions and counter-counter-reactions, my sister and I just watched “Girls”. (I don’t understand how everyone’s talking about it and only like 3,000 people have watched it for free on YouTube. Am I missing something here?)

    Anyway, we laughed and laughed. I mean, at least a few times, but they were pretty genuine. We were very excited to see Peter Scolari, star of “Honey I Shrunk the Kids: The TV Show” playing Lena Dunham’s dad (he also starred, ironically enough (the show’s called “Girls”!) in “Bosom Buddies”, which is perhaps more notable but well before our time). And then I wished it had just been something that came on television, without all the analysis and analogies and overblown talk about feminism and sex and privilege and race. And then I rejoined the Internet, read one smart thing about the show and then another, took it all back, praised cultural commentary, etc, etc.

    [Only vaguely related, but I just learned about the alt. descriptions on images at The Awl. If you click on the latter link, be sure to hover over that pic.]