Archive for the ‘Health’ Category

On Spring Break

22Mar09

In which The Gay Recluse goes on a trip. I’m going away for a few days/weeks/months. Hope you have a beautiful spring (via the mythical Helibores)! xoxo TGR Advertisements


In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with the George Washington Bridge. It’s often said that as you get older, time moves faster. This is undoubtedly true, except for when it moves more slowly than it once did. I’m reading a book by Richard Rorty,* who — unlike Plato/Kant/Schopenhauer/Freud/Jung — argues that there is […]


In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with the George Washington Bridge. My fifth grade teacher, Mr. W, was a large, macho man with a mustache and a tight perm. (You could actually be macho and have a perm in 1978.) He liked to aggressively talk about boys and girls “dating” and “kissing,” and […]


In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with the George Washington Bridge. You’d be surprised how often ‘str8 bros’ write in to tell us how ‘wrong’ we are in our assertions that this or that is homophobic, that we really shouldn’t be offended by something that’s ‘not that offensive,’ that we’re actually hurting the […]


In which The Gay Recluse revisits the past, both distant and not-so-distant. As many of you may or may not know, last year we wrote an essay that was published by Gawker on Valentine’s Day as part of a “Gay Modern Love” contest sponsored by Sheila (miss u!) and inspired in part by our rants […]


In which The Gay Recluse remembers subtle forms of fourth-grade terror. It’s not hard to remember a phase we went through in elementary school, specifically fourth and fifth grade (and possibly sixth, although even now it pains us to think about this) when each Valentine’s Day, we took it upon ourselves to make increasingly elaborate […]


In which The Gay Recluse freezes to death. It goes without saying that nothing is black and white. But at the moment it feels like nothing is gray, either. It’s more like there are layers of perception, some of which are made of iron, and some of which will melt away.