Category Archives: sex


“The beard, being a half-mask, should be forbidden by the police. It is, moreover, as a sexual symbol in the middle of the face, obscene: that is why it pleases women.”

—Arthur Schopenhauer

(Via @GuyLongworth.)

Related reading: Have we reached peak beard?

What’s Sexy

I can tell you what I think is sexy in a man. It has to do with warmth, a personal givingness, not self-awareness. Richard is a very sexy man. He’s got that sort of jungle essence that one can sense. It’s not the way he combs his hair, not the things he wears; and he doesn’t think about having muscles. It’s what he says and thinks.

—Elizabeth Taylor


The Lovers

René Magritte, The Lovers

René Magritte, The Lovers, 1928, oil on canvas, 21 3/8 x 28 7/8″ (54 x 73.4 cm). Museum of Modern Art, New York

David Lynch Meets Terrence Malick


When Two Are One

I should like to write the true story of intercourse, of the socket and the holding, the solid and the fluid, and above all that sense of the running, the dance, the flight, when the two are one and the one is one because it is one of two.

—Alfred Kazin


Book Report

From the criminally under-appreciated Three O’Clock High (1987):

Love in the Time of Rioting

“Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love.” —Bill Hicks


Marilyn Monroe’s 85th Birthday

Marilyn Monroe, seen looking good below in a picture from July 1958, was born today in 1926.


Ad Week’s profile of Virginia Heffernan opens, apropos of nothing, with the following anecdote:

“She said, ‘Fix yourself a drink; I’m going to get into something more comfortable.’ Just like that. She left me with a decanter of scotch and reappeared wearing a see-through baby-doll thing with furry balls. It was amazing.”
Things progressed, then took a turn.
“She stops me and she says, ‘Before we go any further, I need to know something. I need to know if King Lear is a comedy or a tragedy.’”
Rellie protested: “‘You’re kidding.’”
“‘No, really, I need to know.’”
He paused, then ventured: “‘It’s obviously a tragicomedy.’”
“‘I’m going to need you to leave,’” Heffernan said, as Rellie recalls. “‘Please leave now. It’s not your fault. It’s my fault. You’re going to have to leave.’ I pulled my trousers up and walked out into the street.”

Tragicomedy indeed.

The Women of Twin Peaks