Posts Tagged ‘Death’

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 remembers David Foster Wallace. When we turned 28 or 29, our friend Marla gave us a copy of Infinite Jest. We spent the next month or so locked in our room reading it, pretending to be sick and not going to work. To say it was Pynchonesque doesn’t really do […]


In which The Gay Recluse reflects on those who died on 9/10 and 9/12. Every year on 9/11, our thoughts inevitably drift to those who died on 9/10 and 9/12. And whether their deaths were any more or less tragic than those so aggressively memorialized. Those who try to elevate themselves on the shoulders of […]


In which The Gay Recluse presents a gay/impressionistic alternative to this week’s Modern Love offering in The Times. Those looking for our quantitative analysis should click here. By JULIE BUXBAUM and THE GAY RECLUSE Published: May 11, 2008 SEVEN months ago, I was married in an ivory lace dress to a woman in a gray […]


In which The Gay Recluse scores selected opinion pieces in The Times. Paul Krugman/Taming the Beast The Short Version: We need financial reform. So far none of the candidates seem to have noticed. In his words: “But you don’t have to be an economic radical, or even a vocal reformer like Representative Barney Frank… to […]


On Beatrice

16Nov07

When the russet hues of the setting sun stream through our western window, as happened today, it is quite possible to imagine Beatrice in the distorted, filtered light, contemplative and hovering as if she were still there, peering into the distance, longing for something to take her away. The first time we saw her, however, […]


On Marathons

04Nov07

Good luck, runners! On this day of the New York City Marathon, we remember years ago, when we too joined the tens of thousands who sprinted across the Verrazano Narrows before stretching out into a line of hope and desperation that snaked through the five boroughs. Then of course we were strong and idealistic enough […]