The Inhumanity of Transgressive Fiction

I’ve written in the past about dishonesty at work among the avant-garde. I say this because the “art” that so often emerges from such waters is rarely objectively beautiful, technically brilliant, or conceptually ingenious. Rather, its power seems to lie in its ability to shock and flatter. But there is another kind of deceptive exhibition that... Continue Reading →

On George Floyd (And the Desolation of Mobs)

America appears to have caught fire—both literally and metaphorically. Over the last few days it seems that everyone with a secret ire has come out either to smash windows, graffiti the white house, or throw things at the police. Somewhere in the midst of this eruption of wrath there is genuine and understandable upset at... Continue Reading →

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