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Before that she talked for a while about America’s deep conservatism and their ongoing fear of socialism, and I told her about how the CIA, or maybe it was the FBI, funded major exhibitions of Abstract Expressionist artwork in Europe at the beginning of the Cold War in order to show intellectual Eu…

[...] Some months ago I touched the side of a man’s face. A man I’ve never touched in any way at all. It’s not at all warranted or appropriate for me to touch this particular man, we aren’t friends, our relationship is professional. We were talking about his origins, where his parents came from and…

[...] Huysmans depicts ostentatious depravity with an attention to detail that is so exquisitely meticulous it borders somewhat discomfortingly on the poetic. His vivid prose is not graphic, it is far worse than that – it is lavish. The graphic mode aims to shock – the terrible magnetism of Huysman…

[...] Come on old man, walk across the room. I’m waiting for you. Kiss me. Get it over with. It’s not going to be pleasant and it’s about time we found that out. Come here and take hold of me with your old hands and your old mouth. Reach out of your obscene godforsaken darkness into my plush obscen…

[...] ‘It seems to me you don’t know the first thing about love,’ it began, and I don’t know how many times I’ve written that in an email to Xavier. Over and over again we had these spats where we shot down the other’s conception of love. You don’t know what love is! – You have no idea what it mean…