Archive for the ‘Philosophers’ Category

In which The Gay Recluse becomes increasingly obsessed with the George Washington Bridge. Today I read a disturbing post on the NYT’s City Room blog about a pair of teenagers who broke into a vacant apartment in Brooklyn, doused a cat with lighter fluid and then set it on fire. According to the article, “[t]he […]


In which The Gay Recluse fears reactionary forms of propaganda. This is a blog called ‘The Gay Recluse.’ Here you will find words designed to provoke or stimulate or anger or entertain or bore you to death. Moreover, ‘The Gay Recluse’ is a fictional character written by another fictional character named ‘Matthew Gallaway,’ who in […]


In which The Gay Recluse retires from metaphysics. We grow up and are given a set of words that we use to communicate: ideas, places, things, ppl. But as all of these things change — as they always do, thanks to the passage of time — words that once seemed perfect become inadequate to describe […]


In which The Gay Recluse looks out windows. Eventually we reached an age when we could no longer think about the larger world except with terror; it was too complicated and cruel, and every time we tried to engage it we returned defeated and misunderstood. Our own trajectory, combined with an examination of world history […]


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 loves Truffaut. So tonight we watched Day for Night, Francois Truffaut’s 1973 movie about movie-making. Although “day for night” apparently (because what do we know?) refers to a film technique by which a day shot is made to look like the night, it also — at least in the English […]


In which The Gay Recluse listens with admiration to the new record by The New Year. Recently we went to see The New Year in Williamsburg. It was a great show until we went back to our car and discovered that some frat boy asshole had broken off our side mirror on the car. Goodbye […]


In which The Gay Recluse remembers sitting at the airport. Just last week we were sitting at the airport. At the time it seemed painfully boring, but now we kind of miss it. Even though we know that if we went back we’d be painfully bored again. This is also why George Bush was elected […]


In which The Gay Recluse files a book report and rambles on. Recently we finished The First Time I Met Frank O’Hara by Rick Whitaker, a collection of essays about gay writers culled from the past 150 years or so of American/English literature, ranging from titans such as Melville, Wilde and Dickinson to the more […]


In which The Gay Recluse scores selected opinions in The Times. Bob Herbert/Here Come the Millennials The Short Version: The youngs are seriously fucked, which is why they should vote for Obama. In his words: “This is a generation that is in danger of being left out of the American dream — the first American […]


In which The Gay Recluse corresponds with Harry, an 80-year-old autistic gay man. Herewith, for those who asked (and for those who did not): March 24: It is none my business to know, but! My curiosity is tweaked. Who are you? Have you posted something somewhere to give a more detailed bio? or do I […]


In our daily travels, we are regularly confronted by some of our more clever but literal-minded critics with the question of why we would ever want to publish our thoughts and observations, if in fact it is our unending desire to be reclusive, or to obtain — in our own lexicon — a “community-free” existence. […]


To the brave soul who trapped a mouse in a gluetrap and left it in the hallway, bravo! We would like to commend you for digging so deep and summoning the courage to carry such a ferocious beast — did you use your bare hands? — to the elevator, where we and countless others were […]


Is there any doubt that one did not lead directly to the other, that our collective misery in Bush’s incapable but malevolent hands is only slightly more extreme than it was twenty years ago when we were in the same situation with Reagan? Those who defend Reagan but criticize Bush display a disregard of history […]


We turn again to New York Times critic Edward Rothstein — who today wrote about the “irrelevance of gayness” with regard to the fictional wizard Albus Dumbledore –and shake our heads in wonder and dismay: how did such an arrogant, presumptuous blockhead get a PhD? a job with the Times? We must conclude that it […]


Let’s assume for the sake of argument that we have two couples, roughly similar in every indicator of socioeconomic status, and that money is not a determinative factor in this hypothetical. Let’s also assume that both are offered the opportunity 1) to have (or adopt) a child, or 2) to adopt a pet. A further […]


Poets, pundits, philosophers and politicians, take note! This is not the story of nations or other one-hit wonders, nor is it the story of religion, for which so many millions have died in futile anger and delusion. It is certainly not the history of capital, although this too has been a scourge; no, friends, these […]


Although we admire the spirit in which Andrew Sullivan — inspired by Nietzsche’s timelessly apt tirade against moral crusaders  — compares America to a “very insecure adolescent” we feel the analogy is nonetheless somewhat off the mark. We by contrast would prefer to compare America to a brittle (but dangerous) old man, unwilling to resign himself to the inevitable fate that awaits us all.    


Yes, we exalt at the view offered by the summit of Whiteface Mountain! Here from New York State’s fifth-highest peak we see nothing but a carpet of trees — both deciduous and coniferous — rolling over an ancient, haunted landscape interrupted by exquisite lakes and bands of cirrus clouds that hover ambivalently over the horizon. […]


“If you turn around now, and face the mountain, notice how dwarfed the trees just above the parking lot are; small, contorted by the wind, branches broken from the load of ice in the winter, spring growth killed off by late spring frosts, soil so thin and impoverished as to defy definition, the whole scene […]