Monday, July 27, 2009

I form a tactfulness merely to carry out to another tactfulness

I don't know. You try to write something that conveys all the ambivalence and conflicted emotions brought on by the death of someone who loomed large in your personal mythology, you wrestle with irreconcilable desires for honesty and discretion, you lay the result before your readers despite its many shortcomings...and then someone else comes along and turns it into a work of genius.

Maybe from now on I should just run all my writing through whatever produced that.


  1. Sorry, Rab -- I couldn't get the link to work. :-(

  2. No big deal. It was just a splog that posted an entertainingly garbled version of my post about Frank McCourt. The title of this post was taken from that mangled version; I was also entertained by every instance of the phrase "high school" being replaced by the more evocative (and accurate) term "inebriated votaries." Presumably the splog was found found and deleted; maybe my linking back to it hastened that process, but I kinda hope not in this case because it was pretty funny.

  3. The link worked for me today... at first I was expecting something serious, since you are often graciously deferential to other talent, but my response quickly turned into WTF?!


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