Had Aldous Huxley not been a one-hit wonder, which hit would we wonder over?
Can't wait to see STAR WARS Episode Two this summer? Someone has just seen ATTACK OF THE CLONES and tells all about it.
I once had this idea for a projectable keyboard that could display a touchtone telephone dialpad in the palm of my hand. But someone's beat me to it
Holy Buck Rogers, Batman! This building rocks! Of course, I would have included free inline-skates for all occupants.
Famous last words are best unrehearsed, but there's no harm in giving it some thought now, eh?
Dubya's gub'mint is looking over your shoulder. Whatchya reading?
Uncertain of Werner Heisenberg? Newly released Niels Bohr letters reveal more about their World War II Copenhagen conversation.
"Why the sudden creative silence, and then that other silence, the one that landed him in jail?" Margaret Atwood explores the mysteries of Dashiell Hammet.
Have you noticed how "the sense of relaxation ends when the [TV] set is turned off, but the feelings of passivity and lowered alertness continue"? Researchers explore why watching begets more watching.
Can't cry at art? Helen McLean reviews "Pictures and Tears", the new James Elkins book that "lists ways of improving our habits of looking at art. Go to museums alone...Don't try to see everything. Minimize distractions. Take your time. Pay full attention. If a picture affects you deeply, go back and visit it again." The same works with digittante.
Is it truly food for thought when, "Every dish was explicated and annotated, with commentary sometimes running to a full paragraph"? William Grimes laments the rise of the erudite waiter.
According to Carlin Romano, the new Iris Murdoch memoir by Peter J. Conradi "rumbles into town like a traveling circus, replete with sideshows, dancing bears and acrobatics, and a charismatic star who never strays out of the audience's sight lines."
"Driving through the badlands of south-east London as I came back from Paris," says Stuart Jeffries, "I was immediately struck by the melancholy, vulnerable bearing of people in the streets, more than by the crumbling and modest Victoriana that is London's architectural face." All Hail Sclerositania!
"...nearly eight decades after his death in 1922, Proust is (by some measures, anyway) a hotter commodity than ever" says Bruce Bawer
"Thus the Milton-Is-Sincere school accepts the surface of the text and then uses that surface meaning to prove its case; while the Milton-as-Closet-Satanist position by definition has to deny the validity of the surface meaning as probative." Enter Stanley Fish to foul the waters and swim upstream.