In which The Gay Recluse compares the Richard Wagner opera Tristan and Isolde (first performed in Munich in 1865; financed by King Ludwig II of Bavaria and now running at The Metropolitan Opera) with Loveless, the final record by My Bloody Valentine (Creation, 1991).
While the music is dissonant, it’s never abrasive; it’s just another thread [...]

In which The Gay Recluse scores selected opinion pieces in The Times.
Nicholas Kristof/Obama and the Bigots

The Short Version: We must teach people not to be such crazy losers.
In his words: “Likewise, with countless people today spreading scurrilous rumors that Mr. Obama is a Muslim, the most appropriate response is a denial followed by: And so [...]

In which The Gay Recluse thinks about shit on the daily commute.
As we walk through midtown each morning and each afternoon, we often pause to observe a fading silhouette on a wall; while somewhat decrepit, it provides comforting evidence — of a sort we are always on the lookout for — that Andy Warhol did [...]

In which The Gay Recluse unveils the hidden assets of Washington Heights.
For those of you who have grown fatigued by the unceasing onslaught of “hot” photographs, videos and movie clips featuring live male actors and models, why not take a trip to Audubon Terrace in Washington Heights? Here you can reconnect with 5000 years of [...]

In which The Gay Recluse scores selected opinion pieces in The Times.
David Brooks/Remembering the Mentor
The Short Version: Even though he was a Nazi, I loved William F. Buckley.
In her words: “Buckley was not only a giant celebrity, he lived in a manner of the haut monde.”
Score: F (Foolish)
In this column we have Brooks longing for [...]

In which The Gay Recluse contemplates an uncommissioned masterpiece from the walls of an uptown subway station.

In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with The George Washington Bridge.
Time and Date of photograph: February 28, 2008, 7:56am.
Notes: The sky is starting to seem spring-like, but it was actually close to minus-fifty.

“It was to be encased in granite but because of the Depression was never done and the structure remained as it [...]

In which The Gay Recluse ponders the dinosaurs.
In today’s New York Times, in a shocking piece that has vaulted all the way to number one on the “Most Popular” chart, we learn that golf is on the way out; declining in a popularity, with too many courses built in the 90s, it’s no longer feasible [...]

In which The Gay Recluse is inspired by a classic.
Of all the French photographers who documented Paris at the turn of the last century (and we don’t mean 8 years ago), we are most obsessed with Eugene Atget. Who can resist his urban streetscapes, his ghostly renderings of the city of light? And [...]

In which The Gay Recluse — in case you missed it — reports on today’s media frenzy.
So get this: today Gawker “executed” four of its “more-stupid-than-funny” commenters, three of whom we specifically targeted in the post we wrote yesterday about (get out your pencils and paper) Gawker’s original post about Chris Crocker. Say what you [...]

In which The Gay Recluse enjoys a game of “Would You Rather,” the elementary school game in which you must choose one of two offered alternatives and explain why.
The Set-up: You are at the gym over lunch, about to get on to the treadmill for fifteen minutes when you realize — fucking-shit! – that you [...]

In which The Gay Recluse ponders a sampling of recent search terms used to find the very pages you are now reading. Note: All search terms listed are in the exact form provided by WordPress.com, which is the host (at least for a while) of this blog. Hyperlinks to relevant posts included.
Search: the winter garden [...]

In which The Gay Recluse writes metaphorically about life.
Let’s say you were invited to a cocktail reception in the Rainbow Room, hosted by ____ and featuring a talk by _____, a political hero of yours who now works at a prestigious law firm. And even though it was a corporate event, which is never as [...]

In which The Gay Recluse live-blogs the Super Bowl.
5:58. Our friend T___ arrives to give us haircuts. He tells us that his mother, who is only 64 years old, has just been diagnosed with an inoperable form of brain cancer. She has just begun chemotherapy, and to give him encouragement, we tell him about another [...]

Until now we’ve been careful not to endorse either of the leading Democratic candidates — preferring to hold out for Geraldine Ferraro — but with the New York State primary upon us, we have decided to end our prevarication and officially endorse Barack Obama. Our decision is not based on any particular issue — for [...]