Archive for August, 2012

In this week’s New Yorker

August 22, 2012

Some amazing stuff, starting with the cover, a characteristically dense, witty Bruce McCall special called “A Greener, Greater New York” (see above). Four pieces stand out for me in particular:

* Leo Carey’s biographical essay on Stefan Zweig, the once-famous Austrian writer and biographer whose name I’ve heard but never knew much about (he and his second wife committed suicide together in Brazil in 1942, in despair over the future of Europe);

* Alice Munro’s “Amundsen,” long, slow, and satisfying as her stories usually are;

* Jon Lee Anderson’s harrowing “Letter from Syria” (I hope he didn’t have to witness first-hand all the brutality he reports in the story); and most of all,

* “Altered States,” Oliver Sacks’s astonishingly candid Personal History essay (an excerpt from his forthcoming book Hallucinations) about his personal use of LSD, peyote, morphine, amphetamines, and other recreational drugs, which ranged from loosely controlled scientific research to the kind of self-isolating absorption that worried his closest friends.

 

Quote of the day: VICTIM

August 16, 2012

VICTIM

“Victim” describes a specific moment in time, not a permanent self-definition.

— Dusty Miller

artowork by Christopher Logan aka Loganic

Quote of the day: RIGHT

August 12, 2012

RIGHT

You can always count on Americans to do the right thing, after they’ve tried everything else.

— Winston Churchill


Photo diary: the week oblique

August 12, 2012

stockings in Soho

sleep study

the luchador museum

Bad Hair Day at Damrosch Park

Astoria brunch

 

 

 

 

RIP: Fernando Abreu 1927-2012

August 12, 2012

My favorite uncle, Fernando “Fred” Abreu, passed away July 25 at his home in Mesa, Arizona. He was my mother’s younger brother — she and he were always quite close, and there was always a lot of affection between our families. He’s the last of his generation to go, having survived all five of his siblings. He left behind his wife Claire and five of their six kids — Kevin, Karlene, Kathy, Karolyn, and Kim, aka “the K gang” (their sister Karen died in 2008).


Fred was a character, very involved with Boy Scouts and community service, and as he got older more and more politically opinionated. After years of no particular communication, he and I reconnected at a family gathering in 1999 and became frequent e-mail correspondents. He liked being able to share his liberal politics with me, because they were not so popular in Arizona or even within his family. When I took a trip to Portugal and decided to make a pilgrimage to Madeira, where his parents met and married, he was thrilled and helped me track down my grandfather’s last residence and his burial place. I think more than anything else, he admired my openness as a gay man and told me stories about his own sexual/romantic past that I don’t think he ever told anyone else in the family. I felt honored to know him and am sad that he’s gone.

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