Musonius Rufus, Gaius. That One Should Disdain Hardships: The Teachings of a Roman Stoic. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2020. (Link to publisher) Here is a thought experiment to amuse you in quarantine. How long would you stay inside for a million dollars? Could you last two weeks? A month? Now, how long would… Continue reading Review: That One Should Disdain Hardships
I spent a series of cold, foggy mornings when I was a young man of about twenty-one working at a door shop in Jacksonville reading On The Road on my way to work. It was my second time reading the book, but the first time I really got what Kerouac was trying to do. I… Continue reading Books and the Geology of the Soul
I saw two ternagers sitting on the floor quietly reading in the Walmart books section earlier today, and something about the sight nourished my soul in a way few things have recently. As I'm wrapped up in a throw on the couch reading a Louis L'Amour paperback, it feels good to join them in spirit… Continue reading Milo Talon and the Walmart Readers
The Cut is featuring an excerpt from Rebecca Traister's forthcoming book, Good and Mad: the Revolutionary Power of Women's Anger this afternoon and it is a doozy. If you're interested in American history, in politics, or pretty much anything, you should definitely go read it. As a historian, I'm intrigued by the argument Traister lays out: Look to the… Continue reading Women’s Rage
Dear Austin, Is it OK if I call you Austin? That’s what I imagine, and you haven’t given me much else to work with, so there we are. Me and you, Austin. Austin, what happened? Until now, you were enjoying this book. Back there when we were reading about “friendly and simple-minded” Minorcans, you kept… Continue reading An Open Letter to the Author of Bitter Marginalia in Reminiscences of the Second Seminole War by John Bemrose.
Narrator Reginald Morse’s online screeds track the tensions underlining the end of the American century and mimic the twilight howls of the white American male.
The merest whisper of Atticus Finch being anything other than what he was in the eyes of his six-year-old child in the depression is enough to send adults in the twenty-first century stomping straight for the exits.