Fifteenth Evening Another Vexation of Kleiner the Elder’s Beethoven’s Fidelio is being performed. Not a word is spoken in the orchestra. The eyes of all true artists are aglow, those of ordinary musicians remain open, those of blockheads are shit from time to time. Tamberlik* has been engaged by our manager for a few performances […]
Category Archive for 'South Brooklyn'
Riot, quiet, and surfeit are the consequence of sexual madness. Ten boars can easily tread a hundred sows, but this knowledge inflames the mind instead of pacifying the flagitous imaginations of men. The criminal joys if human beings are unknown to birds. There is no counterpart of Tiberius or of lascivious Messalina in the feathered […]
V Terra tuum spinis obducat, lena, sepulcram, et tua, quod non vis, sentiat umbra sitim; nec sedeant cineri Manes, et Cerebrus altor turpio iciuno terreaat ossa sono! May the earth cover thy tomb with thorns, thou bawd, and may thy shade be parched with thirst, for thirst thou hatest. May thy ghost find no rest […]
Poetry And Miss Esmonds Tho’ poetry is one of the cheapest and profitable speculations of the literary world, we find not a few aspiring to be poets rather than be orators. This is a fact which goes to strongly prove that poetry has more charms than is generally supposed. It is the language of nature, […]
From the get-go, Birdland became one of his favorite haunts. He always went to the 52nd Street club alone. He’d pay two dollars to the cashier at the bottom of the stairs after hassling with a midget-spade about his proof of age, and stand at the bar or sit in the gallery and drink Cutty […]
It was with a faint hope that, after all, our ardent desires might be realized, when we were informed that Rev. Henry Ward Beecher had gone to Washington to intercede for the acceptance of the regiment, and although we could not understand how he could expect President Lincoln or the Secretary of War to order […]
About 1 p.m. , at a given signal, a heavy cannonade was opened, and continued for about two hours with marked effect upon the enemy. His batteries replied vigorously at first, but toward the close their fire slackened perceptibly, and General Longstreet ordered forward the column of attack, consisting of Pickett’s and Heth’s divisions, in […]
Caz Dolowicz don’t plant tater, and don’t plant cotton, and dem dat plants ‘em is soon forgotten.
Posted in Bay Ridge, Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn Heights, Brownsville, Canarsie, Coffee, Crime, Downtown, Drugs, East New York, Flatbush, Fort Greene, Fort Hamilton, Greenpoint, Jazz, Literature, Navy Yard, Park Slope, politics, Red Hook, Sex, South Brooklyn, Williamsburg on Jul 31st, 2010
I don’t think Faulkner is worth the antebellum South, and I would rather not have had Kafka at the proce of twentieth-century European carnage. But in trying to locate contemporary American writing I look at the thirties, that supposedly meager decade if misfired artistic energy and of duped intellectuals and bad proletarian novels, and I […]
Virtually every diarist and letter writer in the army commented on the friendliness of the inhabitants they met north of the Potomac, in contrast to what they had encountered over the past months in Virginia. The First Corps crossed the Pennsylvania line on June 30, and Lyman Holford of the 6th Wisconsin noted in his […]