One of the things Mr. Maud and I will miss most when we leave Greenpoint for Kensington later this month is Acapulco, a dinery Mexican-American restaurant near our apartment that has the best guacamole this side of Texas. Order a beer, and they’ll bring you a frosty mug. When we went for lunch on Sunday, this Obama flyer was taped . . .
Recently my friend Marie and I were marveling at the propulsive quality of AS Byatt’s Possession, a tale of writerly lust intellectual and physical. With this book, Byatt transcends the formal achievements of her earlier work, moving into territory that’s surprisingly immediate and sexy and vital. What, we wondered, caused — or fueled — the shift? Today Marie points me . . .
Pentagram’s latest publication, Decipher, is a handsome book of cryptographic puzzles. I hoped to show you a couple, but haven’t been able to find anything online. While clicking through the design firm’s portfolio of book projects, though, I was reminded of the Pocket Canons. Published by Grove in 1999 as a radical repackaging of the Bible, the series consists . . .
Depression isn’t something my dad’s family ever talked about, but in the last few years I’ve learned that my granddad suffered from it. My aunt and I unearthed his meditation on February (below) when I was in Tennessee last summer. Until reading these notes, I never particularly thought of him as a religious guy.
Woolworths pulls its Lolita bed for girls after mothers complain. Steph suggests Medea maternity wear & other replacements. (Via.)