Beat poet Allen Ginsberg once threw out a surprisingly decent first pitch at a San Francisco Giants game while wearing a pocket protector. Seriously. Here’s our own Bill Morris with a little more on Ginsberg, Beats, and film.
Holy the First Pitch!
Exit, Pursued by a Bear
It turns out even a museum exhibit of Shakespeare’s works can make for a dramatic experience. At The Daily Beast, Helen Anders demonstrates that there’s a little bit for everybody at the “Shakespeare in Print and Performance” exhibition at the University of Texas. We’ve brought you a bit on the Bard before.
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Stopping the Voices
It’s an age-old question for writers and thinkers: how do you quiet the noise of your thoughts? In Aeon Magazine, Tim Parks wonders if it’s even possible to silence internal monologues — and, if it is, whether that silence means losing sight of our identities. (Related: our own Mark O’Connell reviewed Parks’s latest book.)
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The London “Book Map” Has It All
The good folks at Dorothy labored over a tremendous “Book Map” depicting the settings of some 600 literary works based in London. The books, poems, and essays selected for the map run the gamut from T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land” to J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series.
Positivity and Graphic Art
Chris (Simpsons Artist) will be publishing a book on positivity. Check out a few scenes from it in The Guardian. He has advice for how to handle everything from depression to hair nits. For more graphic art, we review the twenty-fifth anniversary edition of Drawn and Quarterly.
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“This Book is Delicious!”
The German design firm Korefe partnered up with Gerstenberg Publishing to release a special edition cookbook that’s edible. The recipes have been imprinted on fresh pasta pages which can be baked into a lasagna. (via)
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Bubbles and Zeroes
There’s been a lot of digital ink spilled about the traumas lurking in the comment section. It’s almost a rite of passage to get abused for something you write. But there’s another kind of trauma — what happens when you get no comments at all? At The Rumpus, Rachel Newcombe writes about a new kind of emptiness.
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