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Lastborn of Egypt, part 9

My Secret Lucky for me that Khushim isn’t my father, or I might not be writing this at all. Nobody knows it yet, but Snofru––excuse me, your father––and I have been engaged for the last twenty days, since before the darkness came, two whole weeks already. His home is right next door, but he was […]

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Growth of a Tiny Mind, part 14

Jack Kerouac’s books were only the tip of the beat-berg for me. When I wasn’t re-reading my favourites (On the Road, The Dharma Bums, Desolation Angels and The Subterraneans), I was busy trying to read anything I could find by the people whose lives he was talking about. Ginsberg, of course, I’d read even earlier, […]

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Lastborn of Egypt, part 8

Back to Meryt, though. It’s a bit of a problem because––with Herya gone forever, Meryt’s definitely my very best friend, but still––no offense––I don’t think she’s worth what her father is asking. When I said that she’s chubby, I was trying to be nice; she’s fat––beautiful skin and too much of it. She’s got a […]

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Something Else I Wish I’d Written

With Passover fast approaching, I thought that now is probably the right time to quote Chamfort, the great French aphorist, who unwittingly pointed out what might well be the greatest social cost of keeping kosher. W.S. Merwin translates him better than I could: M. de Lassay, a very gentle man but with a great knowledge […]

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Something Else I Wish I’d Written

I’ve long been delighted by the fact that, along with Maria Muldaur, Barry White and Syracuse’s Sam Young, I share a birthday with Maurice Chevalier and H.L. Mencken. I’ve long liked to think of myself as a sort of  combination of these latter two greats, a boulevardier who could skewer the booboisie while remaining ambivalent […]

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