I would like to correct a statement attributed to me in the round-table discussion of the Musicapolis photography exhibit [“Music City!” August]. In response to a question about whether we thought of ourselves as artists, I was quoted as saying that I didn’t think that a photographer doing commercial work was an artist and, while I can’t recall the exact words … Read more
Your commentary on the Minnesota Department of Transportation’s planned “adjustment of Highway 1” [The Rakish Angle, August] brought to mind an oft-repeated and varyingly attributed proverb. To wit, God writes straight with curved lines. Stuart Klipper Minneapolis
ODDYSSEUS OF THE AIRWAVES I can’t decide which grabbed me the most, Jennifer Vogel’s perceptive style or T.D. Mischke’s peripatetic journey—both the literal aimless search and his dedicated exploration of life’s nuances at the “cutting edge” [“Old-Fashioned Cutting-Edge Radio,” July]. The daunting journey of Vogel through the maze of Tommy’s cortex seemed at times bound … Read more
LETTER OF THE MONTH When the significant other tossed the carefully torn Rake page with the pickle recipe [Down the Hatch, July], my hair was on fire, and only pickle juice could put it out. We’d already been to the farmers’ market to capture the things we needed to make the lovelies … I didn’t … Read more
The right to bare arms…and more I was sitting around with a few wags yesterday and we were talking about the problems the Iraqis (if there is such a thing–as opposed to Sunni, or Shiite or Kurd, that is) were having in getting some agreement on a constitution. Aside from the squabbles over oil revenues … Read more
I apologize for that last entry. I apparently wrote [sic] it during the empirical blackout in which I have been lost the last several days. I confess that it makes absolutely no sense to me, and although it is not uncommon for things that show up here to make no sense to me in the … Read more
–Illustration by James Dankert I’m back, but –like the Twins– just barely. Zellar’s had a muzzle on me ever since I tried to dictate a column to his answering machine in the middle of the night. This, of course, was after I’d had a few beers, and after the Twins had finished kicking the shit … Read more
Knock, knock. Who’s there? Me. Me who? Whom? I don’t get it. We have a winner!
We haven’t had a chance to look at the new issue of the New Yorker–the one that has been entirely underwritten by the Target corporation. That’s because we haven’t received our copy, and this is added to the bank of anecdotal evidence that the magazine is delivered to nicer neighborhods first, or perhaps to readers … Read more
The world is a complex fatigue. —Hayden Carruth, “August First” Whatever asks, heart kneels and offers to bear. —Jane Hirshfield, “What the Heart Wants” Now of all voyagers I remember, who among them Did not board ship with grief among their maps? — Till it seemed men never go anywhere, they only leave Wherever they … Read more