AdamSmith

Postscript: Reynolds Price By Ian Crouch January 21, 2011 I was saddened to receive news last night that Reynolds Price—the novelist, poet, New Yorker contributor, and longtime professor of English at Duke University—had died, after suffering a heart attack on Sunday. He was seventy-seven. Price was a writer of the American South, author of the acclaimed novels “A Long and Happy Life,” and “Kate Vaiden,” which won the National Book Critics Circle Award in 1986. He was born in Macon, North Carolina, and graduated from Duke in 1955, before studying in England for three years as a Rhodes Scholar. He accepted a three-year teaching position at Duke in 1958, and remained on the faculty for the next fifty-three years. He was a proud member of the university family, though often candid and dismayed (notably in a famous 1992 Founder’s Day speech); he lamented the occasionally limited emotional and intellectual range of the young people among whom he lived and worked, bridling at their predilection for drunken parties, and took a special pride, it seemed, in horrifying his students by sharing his distaste for Duke’s men’s basketball. I had the good fortune to be one of those horrified students—first in his legendary Milton course, and later while working on a project during my senior year. He was a commanding presence in an era when fewer and fewer professors are able or willing to strike fear in the hearts of their students. He required attendance, participation, and most of all, preparation. I would fall behind in my reading for other courses just to keep up in the thick, red collected Milton that soon became a constant companion. His many students surely remember the ledger he kept on his desk, in which he’d make a mark as we were stumbling through some answer or frail, unformed idea. What was he writing? He was stern and moody, but those who braved a visit to his office were often rewarded with immense warmth and a stunning, heartening smile. Much of his presence owed to his deep and distinctive voice, which became known to many around the country from his contributions to National Public Radio from 1996 to 2002. During one class he read “Lycidas,” Milton’s majestic elegy written in honor of his young classmate Edward King, in its entirety. I was neither abashed nor alone, I suspect, in closing my eyes as he performed. Each semester he offered extra credit to students who could recite the full poem, nearly two hundred lines, from memory. I had the first fifty lines down, but there were basketball games, and parties, and other things that seemed important…. He’d have been disappointed to hear that I hadn’t memorized it all, though probably not surprised. The university announced yesterday that Price had forbidden a public funeral, so those of us who admired him at a bit of a distance will have to think of our own ways to mourn. It was nice, though, to hear his voice briefly last night, in an obituary on NPR: I’ve written everything from novels to television commercials. I once wrote the text for a Calvin Klein commercial, a confession I only now made public. But even I have yet to write an epitaph. His was not a short life, nor was he stolen away too soon, as Edward King was, and he might dismiss such sentiment as rubbish, but today I’m thinking of the last lines of “Lycidas,” in Price’s low growl. And now the Sun had stretch’d out all the hills, And now was dropt into the Western bay; At last he rose, and twitch’d his Mantle blew: To morrow to fresh Woods, and Pastures new. Reynolds Price published several poems and one story, “His Final Mother,” in The New Yorker, all of which are available free for subscribers. https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/postscript-reynolds-price

I think the open discussion forums, wherein advocates -- and also enemies -- of particular escorts can publicly air (afflatus ) and argue and counter-argue their experiences in seeing those escorts, are the most useful -- and self-correctingly truthful -- media available to us today. The 'vetting' done by, for example, daddy, I do not trust one inch. So to speak.

Tenebrae By Geoffrey Hill He was so tired that he was scarcely able to hear a note of the songs: he felt imprisoned in a cold region where his brain was numb and his spirit was isolated. 1 Requite this angel whose flushed and thirsting face stoops to the sacrifice out of which it arose. This is the lord Eros of grief who pities no one; it is Lazarus with his sores. 2 And you, who with your soft but searching voice drew me out of the sleep where I was lost, who held me near your heart that I might rest confiding in the darkness of your choice: possessed by you I chose to have no choice, fulfilled in you I sought no further quest. You keep me, now, in dread that quenches trust, in desolation where my sins rejoice. As I am passionate so you with pain turn my desire; as you seem passionless so I recoil from all that I would gain, wounding myself upon forgetfulness, false ecstasies, which you in truth sustain as you sustain each item of your cross. 3 Veni Redemptor, but not in our time. Christus Resurgens, quite out of this world. ‘Ave’ we cry; the echoes are returned. Amor Carnalis is our dwelling-place. 4 O light of light, supreme delight; grace on our lips to our disgrace. Time roosts on all such golden wrists; our leanness is our luxury. Our love is what we love to have; our faith is in our festivals. 5 Stupefying images of grief-in-dream, succubae to my natural grief of heart, cling to me, then; you who will not desert your love nor lose him in some blank of time. You come with all the licence of her name to tell me you are mine. But you are not and she is not. Can my own breath be hurt by breathless shadows groaning in their game? It can. The best societies of hell acknowledge this, aroused by what they know: consummate rage recaptured there in full as faithfulness demands it, blow for blow, and rectitude that mimics its own fall reeling with sensual abstinence and woe. 6 This is the ash-pit of the lily-fire, this is the questioning at the long tables, this is true marriage of the self-in-self, this is a raging solitude of desire, this is the chorus of obscene consent, this is a single voice of purest praise. 7 He wounds with ecstasy. All the wounds are his own. He wears the martyr’s crown. He is the Lord of Misrule. He is the Master of the Leaping Figures, the motley factions. Revelling in auguries he is the Weeper of the Valedictions. 8 Music survives, composing her own sphere, Angel of Tones, Medusa, Queen of the Air, and when we would accost her with real cries silver on silver thrills itself to ice.

The free and easy and large-volume flow of publicly submitted info in general public online fora, and the therefrom clearly visible patterns of truth vs deception, are what the Internet era are about. Your fill-in review info form constipates that free flow of info to the 9th degree.

Yes.

Very much smells like that could be the case. Good!!!

Wholly agree. Filling out the form feels like being waterboarded. Make it a tenth as long! All those details, the important ones, will be in the guy's linked ad(s) anyway.

Looks legit.

Domain Name: RENTBOY.PRO Registry Domain ID: D503300000032961140-LRMS Registrar WHOIS Server: Registrar URL: http://www.evonames.com Updated Date: 2017-09-10T19:38:17Z Creation Date: 2017-02-10T08:55:57Z Registry Expiry Date: 2019-02-10T08:55:57Z Registrar Registration Expiration Date: Registrar: Danesco Trading Ltd. Registrar IANA ID: 1418 Registrar Abuse Contact Email: Registrar Abuse Contact Phone: Reseller: Domain Status: ok https://icann.org/epp#ok Registry Registrant ID: C208755501-LRMS Registrant Name: Roman Stepanov Registrant Organization: RB media Registrant Street: Singel 268-A Registrant City: Amsterdam Registrant State/Province: Registrant Postal Code: 1016 AC Registrant Country: NL Registrant Phone: +1.9177911737 Registrant Phone Ext: Registrant Fax: Registrant Fax Ext: Registrant Email: robknownknight@gmail.com Registry Admin ID: C208755501-LRMS Admin Name: Roman Stepanov Admin Organization: RB media Admin Street: Singel 268-A Admin City: Amsterdam Admin State/Province: Admin Postal Code: 1016 AC Admin Country: NL Admin Phone: +1.9177911737 Admin Phone Ext: Admin Fax: Admin Fax Ext: Admin Email: robknownknight@gmail.com Registry Tech ID: C208755501-LRMS Tech Name: Roman Stepanov Tech Organization: RB media Tech Street: Singel 268-A Tech City: Amsterdam Tech State/Province: Tech Postal Code: 1016 AC Tech Country: NL Tech Phone: +1.9177911737 Tech Phone Ext: Tech Fax: Tech Fax Ext: Tech Email: robknownknight@gmail.com Registry Billing ID: C208755501-LRMS Billing Name: Roman Stepanov Billing Organization: RB media Billing Street: Singel 268-A Billing City: Amsterdam Billing State/Province: Billing Postal Code: 1016 AC Billing Country: NL Billing Phone: +1.9177911737 Billing Phone Ext: Billing Fax: Billing Fax Ext: Billing Email: robknownknight@gmail.com Name Server: NS1.TOPDNS.ME Name Server: NS2.TOPDNS.ME Name Server: NS3.TOPDNS.ME DNSSEC: unsigned URL of the ICANN Whois Inaccuracy Complaint Form: https://www.icann.org/wicf/ >>> Last update of WHOIS database: 2017-10-01T23:06:24Z <<< For more information on Whois status codes, please visit https://icann.org/epp https://www.netim.com/domain-name/whois-search.html

A remarkable new study claims that cow farts may be a much bigger factor in climate change than scientists previously realized. https://www.morningticker.com/2017/10/massive-global-warming-discovery-shocks-scientists/

Und my favorite of all...

Here you go!

Why?

That thing means that right now I am a Big Dom Top. Which of course I never am. Except in the urgencies of the moment. Which my providers get entirely. A sincere question: I sneak out and hire almost every fourth or fifth night. Infinitely soul-enlarging. {and much else! ] You?

Shifting out of the mental registers that I just posted -- AND with our PURPORTED 'President' acting as he is at ze moment -- requires a bit of added ('addled') glucosamine, from somevhere.

LET ME LOOK.

SORRY! Just remembered what he actually said: "The only thing this bill would do is show that the monkeys in the jungle are smarter than the Legislators in North Carolina."

Ervin fiercely fought -- in the 1920s I think -- against a bill in the NC legislature that would have prohibited the teaching of evolution in the public schools. He said: "The only thing this bill would do would be to prove the wisdom of the monkeys in having nothing to do with the primogeniture of the human race."