A Work of Art That Is Both and Neither

A happy 422nd to George Herbert, poet and priest, born 4/3/1593. Thanks for reading-Mark. #GeorgeHerbert #GoodFriday #writers #birthdays

Mark Aldrich's avatarThe Gad About Town

Objects do not often speak for themselves. It takes the right artist or poet to find the voice the object demands.

I wish I still possessed a copy of my one published academic paper. I remember its subject but not its point. The late Thomas M. Greene was rumored to have liked it; he may have told someone who told another who eventually (a year later) mentioned to me that he considered my work “unique.” (In academia, “unique” is not always not a back-handed compliment, and if he had been my professor he might have asked me to make it a bit less unique.) Professor Greene was an invited guest to a symposium my graduate studies department was holding; I was one of about ten speakers. My work, unique or not, was not invited to Yale, which Professor Greene called home. I was working on George Herbert and Arcimboldo, who…

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#RaifBadawi: ‘We want life’

“I didn’t think there could be anything worse than watching a shaky cellphone video of my husband being publicly beaten in front of a mosque thousands of miles away,” Raif Badawi’s wife, Ensaf Haidar, wrote in yesterday’s Washington Post.

Ensaf continues that Badawi’s family is currently experiencing something worse than that: It appears that he is once again facing a trial on a charge of apostasy, renouncing one’s religion, a crime that comes with an ultimate punishment—beheading—if a person is found guilty.

No flogging took place today for the Saudi Arabian blogger, activist, father of three:

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Keep Waving

In a column from 1996, I wrote, “The world should be more friendly, damn it.” Even in that pre-IM, pre-text, pre-now world of yesteryear, something was changing in our society’s social skill set, and a prematurely elderly person like me was taking notice and not liking it at all.

With tools like texting and IMing, matters have not much improved. However, that prematurely elderly person (I was 27 going on “Get off my lawn!” back then) has become an appropriately aged middle-middle-aged man.
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