Monthly Archives: August 2018

A Failed Suicide (The Nobility of Failure)

Again, I post a video. Once again, I started recording mid-sentence. I’ll figure this out soon enough. Correction: Emil Cioran was Romanian, not Serbian. I knew that–blame it on the Blue Moon. Also, I am reading from his Tears and … Continue reading

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Introducing: Bourbon Apocalypse

Since I have upgraded my account, I can now post videos. Oh, get ready, boys and girls–more videos are coming. For all my female fans, love letters/pics will be required. Anyway, this video starts with my speaking mid-sentence, so, yeah. Whether … Continue reading

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Where Do You Go to, My Lovely?

…and go and forget me forever, / but I know that you still bear the scars, deep inside. I know where you go to, my lovely, / when  you’re alone in your bed. Yes, and I know the thoughts that … Continue reading

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Sacrificed Generation

At the bar recently (I know–shocking revelation: you read it first at bourbonapocalypse), I read the following passage in Houellebecq’s Whatever. (I bring books to the bar not to look pretentious, for we are now at such an abysmal point in … Continue reading

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Something Must Go Wrong Now!

For those of us who possess a certain apocalyptic mindset, whenever matters begin to go well, we viciously interrogate the situation, looking for the most minute flaw to  justify a cowardly disengagement and eventual abandonment. Thus, am I. However, I … Continue reading

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Moran-ic Intimacy

For years, Dylan Moran has been one of my favorite comedians. His absurdist, highly literate, and anarchic verbosity makes me giggle, if not cackle, every time I listen to him. This is not one of his best clips, but I … Continue reading

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Not All Anti-Heroes Wear Capes (but They May Wear Tweed Trousers)

“I refuse to ‘look up.’ Optimism nauseates me. It is perverse. Since man’s fall, his proper position in the universe has been one of misery.” With that kitchen table declaration, one of the most Falstaffian of all modern protagonists–or, as … Continue reading

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