Archive for the ‘Dissonance’ Category

In which The Gay Recluse holds a contest. But not really. Today we received the above (and well, below) photograph from Eric Patton of Sore Afraid. (Which btw we recommend for anyone — like us! — interested in refreshingly unrelenting pessimism, literary angst, truthful travel writing and related rumination.) This statue, obv one of the […]


In which The Gay Recluse produces a teevee series on the internets. The Chaos Detective: City of Dreams (Part 1) In this episode, CHAOS — the quasi-governmental entity “Computer Hardware and Operating Systems” (or so he has been told) — has given Detective Lasalle his first assignment, which is to go to Vienna and follow […]


In which The Gay Recluse wanders the streets of Munich. To visit Europe in 2K9 is to understand that we have a new lingua franca; to say it’s English, however, would be something of an exaggeration. Whatever. We want new hair, and we want it now.


In which The Gay Recluse lands. We finally descended through the clouds, and — while looking out at the approaching city — were confronted by two questions. Is it possible that we actually live here? And could it really be 2009?


In which The Gay Recluse files a book report. After we read Keith Banner’s The Smallest People Alive, we could not have imagined a more fucked-up society/culture than the low-class Midwest (US) described so effectively by Banner; imagine our surprise then, when we turned to another set of short stories — The Scent of Cinnamon […]


In which The Gay Recluse files a book report. The Smallest People Alive is a collection of short stories by Keith Banner, published in 2003 by Carnegie Mellon University Press. Set in the cultural wasteland of the Midwest, the characters live in rental apartments, housing projects and trailer parks; they work at mental institutions, amusement […]


On Ludwig

18Dec08

In which The Gay Recluse loves Luchino Visconti best. In Ludwig, Luchino Visconti’s four-hour treatment of the 19th-century King of Bavaria, we are introduced to the king as a young man, but learn almost immediately — in what feels like a flash-forward — that he will eventually be dethroned by the state legislature for maybe being insane. […]


In which The Gay Recluse reads a book of signs. One strange thing about growing up in Pittsburgh was that even before we lived anywhere else, we used to say that it — i.e., Pittsburgh — was haunted. But when people would ask us why, we were at a loss to explain: either you got […]


In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with the George Washington Bridge. For most of us, repetition is an unavoidable facet of modern life; we might even go as far as to say that it’s been like this as long as we have lived in one village or town or city. When we were […]


In which The Gay Recluse seeks to vex. Oh noes! It seems that we’ve upset Reader Arundel with our obsessive-compulsive need to repeat the same or similar photographic images over and over! Here’s what Arundel wrote: Hi. I forget where I first came across your blog, but I enjoy your posts and insights. Thank you. […]


In which The Gay Recluse remembers old plants. Growing up in the 1970s, there were a lot of plants in our house. Having plants was a sign of liberal thinking: our mother, of course, was involved in the women’s movement, so she had a mix of spider plants, cactus and marginata; our dazed-and-confused sister did […]


On Senso

09Dec08

In which The Gay Recluse loves Luchino Visconti. After scouring the globe, we were finally able to obtain — from South Korea! — a copy of Senso, Luchino Visconti’s 1954 film about the Austrian occupation of Venice during the war for Italian independence. In what is arguably the most operatic of Visconti’s films, we follow a […]


In which The Gay Recluse remembers art class. Yesterday we read about Alton Dulaney, who won the gift-wrapping championship of the world in a wrap-off at Rockefeller Center. Watching Alton’s performance, we couldn’t help but regret all the hours we spent growing up watching football and hockey and baseball on teevee, when we could have […]


In which The Gay Recluse watches movies. Tonight we watched Seduced and Abandoned, the 1964 film by Italian director Pietro Germi. Set in a small town in Sicily, it follows a family with a 15-year-old girl who in a moment of passion sort of consents (but sort of not) to have sex with her older […]


In which The Gay Recluse reads dead flowers. When we first read about The Northern Clemency by Philip Hensher, we were excited! Not only was it short-listed for the Booker Prize, but it was rated the #1 Editors’ Pick for Best Book of 2008 by Amazon.com.* And oh yeah, Hensher is “openly gay” — kinda […]


In which The Gay Recluse is annihilated by a soundtrack for the recession. When we arrived at Lincoln Center for yesterday’s final dress rehearsal of Tristan und Isolde, we were required to walk through a maze of corridors to find the Metropolitan Opera; this somehow seemed appropriate, as if to demonstrate the point that no […]


In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with birds. So today we read a most excellent post on marriage at Emily Magazine, which we strongly recommend (and not just because we’re quoted at some length in it, lol!) We have to wonder, is it a coincidence that the only two bloggers to link into […]


In which The Gay Recluse remembers Beatrice, two years later. We don’t have too many photographs of Beatrice; although we owned a camera, it was a particularly trying period of our life, so that we were almost never inspired to memorialize it. (All of these pictures were taken by Stephen.) You can tell that this […]


In which The Gay Recluse wonders who made this stuff up, and not without appreciation. “I like your style” is kinda funny, but the back of the bottle is where things get good. “Wow. That’s some great looking hair you have.” Did you lol? We did. For some reason it never ceases to amuse us. […]


In which The Gay Recluse clarifies his thoughts on gay marriage after years of skirting the issue. Since we are gay and in a long-term relationship — almost ten years! — we are constantly besieged by frenz and relatives with questions that more or less could be summed up as this: “Oh it’s so sweet that you’re […]