This in the NYT. Speaking of CoD: Block party in downtown Baton Rouge uses ‘Confederacy of Dunces’ as theme a confederacy of duncesJeffrey HatcherJohn Kennedy Toolenew orleansNick Offermanphilosophical literature
ONE FINE DAY IN early summer a young man lay thinking in Central Park. His head was propped on his jacket, which had been folded twice so that the lining was outermost, and wedged into a seam of rock. The rock jutted out of the ground in a section of the park known as the…
I know what she means all right. But I know something she doesn’t know. Money is a good counterpoise to beauty. Beauty, the quest of beauty alone, is a whoredom. Ten years ago I pursued beauty and gave no thought to money. I listened to the lovely tunes of Mahler and felt a sickness in…
After about two years this marks the end of the weekly CoD cycle and with no more text forthcoming here are the left over Ignatius graphics I’ve found. a confederacy of duncesJohn Kennedy Toolenew orleansphilosophical literature
“Quite a Carnival. Two proposals in one Mardi Gras.” “Who else?” “Sam.” “No kidding.” “No kidding. And I’ll tell you something else. Sam is quite a person behind that façade. An essentially lonely person.” “I know.” “You’re worse than Sam.” She is angry. “How?” “Sam is a schemer. He also likes me. He knows that…
Some cretin psychoanalyst would attempt to comprehend the singularity of his worldview. In frustration, the psychoanalyst would have him crammed into a cell three feet square. No. That was out of the question. Jail was preferable. There they only limited you physically. In a mental ward they tampered with your soul and worldview and mind.…
I have to admire the St Louisan for his neat and well-ordered life, his gold pencil and his scissors-knife and his way of clipping articles on the convergence of the physical sciences and the social sciences; it comes over me that in the past few days my own life has gone to seed. I no…
“He resented my worldview rather actively.” . . . Once a person was asked to step into this brutal century, anything could happen. Everywhere there lurked pitfalls like Abelman, the insipid Crusaders for Moorish Dignity, the Mancuso cretin, Dorian Greene, newspaper reporters, stripteasers, birds, photography, juvenile delinquents, Nazi pornographers. And especially Myrna Minkoff. The musky…
It is my mother’s way to see life, past and present, in terms of a standard comic exaggeration. If she had spent four years in Buchenwald, she would recollect it so: “So I said to him: listen, Mister, if you think I’m going to eat this stuff, you’ve got another think coming.” . . .…
Excerpt from Robert Musil’s Man Without Qualities Volume One Translated by Eithne Wilkins and Ernst Kaiser Picador (1979) 28 A chapter that can be skipped by anyone who has no very high opinion of thinking as an occupation MEANWHILE Ulrich was at home, sitting at his desk, working. He had got out the analysis that…
manwithoutqualities 