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The Baffler is back from the dead . . . again

If you celebrated the 2009 announcement that political wag Thomas Frank was resurrecting his cult mag, The Baffler, only to watch, crestfallen, as the effort petered out after just one issue, take heart: The Baffler lives again.

The Santorum Syndrome

For most of last year, former Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum cut a lonely figure. Driving through Iowa in his black pickup truck, he visited every county in the state, confident that his constant presence there would lead to a vital victory in the nation’s first nomination contest.


The drug war is a constant reminder that the United States government can jail your body and try to own your soul.

OEDIPAL CONTEXT A fragment from Isolate Flecks: An Anatomy

Too many choices, literary and otherwise.

In Conversation

A Life in Underground Letters | BARNEY ROSSET with Williams Cole

Publishing legend Barney Rosset passed away on February 21, at the age of 89. Rosset’s Grove Press brought Tropic of Cancer, Naked Lunch, Lady Chatterley’s Lover, The Autobiography of Malcolm X, and many other seminal works to American audiences.

AMINA ARRAF: A “Queered” Antidote

Ever since Obama became president and the term “post-racial” was bandied about, it seems there have been increasingly more news articles claiming that discrimination is no longer an issue: Young American women now make more money than young men, six states have passed gay marriage bills with more to follow, and a transgendered man appeared on Dancing with the Stars.

Shirking the New Literacy

In late January, at the Hay Festival in Cartagena, Colombia, Jonathan Franzen said something profoundly stupid.

Perversion Is No Longer Perverse

One of the most celebrated houses of ill repute in London during the 1820s – 1830s was the flagellation parlor owned and operated by Mrs. Theresa Berkley at 28 Charlotte Street. According to Mary Wilson, a fellow brothel owner and author of a memoir, Venus School Mistress, Mrs. Berkley “possessed the first grand requisite of a courtesan, viz., lewdness.” 

A Dirty Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Waste

The other day, I walked into my local cafe and encountered a startling sight—a well-dressed man, inching toward 50, rocking back and forth over his cappuccino with an anguished, far-away look on his face.

A Drink To Remember

Memory: Fragments of a Modern History begins with a provocative question: “I am more intimately acquainted with my own memories than anyone else can possibly be. Am I, then, the best authority on them?”


The Brooklyn Rail

MAR 2012

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