2024
I wrote about Adam Roberts’s novel Space Satan!!! — that’s the title Adam’s son prefers and I can’t disagree.
I find that I’m not at all ready for the return of (European) footy, not after the Euros and the Olympics. I’d like another month or so to build up some excitement. ⚽️
I wrote about Sherlock Holmes and Jacques Derrida. As one does.
My all-time favorite edition of Nick Cave’s Red Hand Files is this one, about an unfortunate encounter with Charlie Watts.
Had dinner at Red Herring tonight and the cacio e pepe was, if not to die for, certainly to kill for. Okay, maybe also to die for.
It finally arrived!
Pochettino: the only football manager on the planet who can look at the USMNT job and think: Well, it’s not as chaotically mismanaged as my last two clubs. ⚽️
Chelsea FC: Finally fulfilling its God-given role as a feeder club for American soccer managers. ⚽️
Oh cool, it’s Emo Dorothy Sayers.
Via Ethan Iverson, Vinnie Sperrazza gives us the backbeats.
Plan de l’exposition universelle de 1900. Full-size image here.
just before I lost that finger
This article on the essential Shel Slverstein omits what I believe to be his masterpiece: Uncle Shelby’s ABZ Book.
I wrote about something I call the diaconal charism.
I wrote about anarchism as a spiritual discipline.
Thesis: the first album — as a coherent work of art, not merely a collection of songs — was Frank Sinatra’s In the Wee Small Hours (1955); the last one was Neutral Milk Hotel’s In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (1998).
The thing I love about sports is the way it can bring the world’s top political powers together.
