The White Stag

Just found out that Atticus Review will be publishing my story “The White Stag.”  The story, told through the psychological lens of one lonely and troubled individual, attempts to bring into question our entire culturally and historically rooted perception of reality, to hint at its secret past and to offer a glimpse of what may lay ahead. It is by far the most ambitious story I have attempted thus far, and I feel that its acceptance for publication by one of my favorite Lit Mags, produced by one of my favorite independent publishers, is a great leap forward for me as a writer.

Thanks Atticus Review!

 

The Holy Furies and Xanax

“The Furies are really to be revered and not simply bought off; in fact, they cannot be bought off )not even by our tranquilizers and sleeping pills) but are to be placated only through being given their just and due respect.”

from Irrational Man by William Barrett

-He also suggests that in The Oresteia by Aeschylus the opposition between The Furies and Apollo represents the opposition between the old earth deities  and the new god, reason. Just ordered myself a nice hardcover copy for .$79 on Amazon… perhaps this play could be modernized to express our struggles with The Furies today, and our ill-advised attempt to buy them off with pharmaceuticals…

The Frenetic Dynamism of America

From William Barrett’s Irrational Man

“And yet despite all its apparently cheerful and self-satisfied immersion in gadgets and refrigerators American life, one suspects, is nihilistic to its core. Its final “What for?” is not even asked, let alone answered.”

To The Unknown God

“To The Unknown God” by Friedrich Nietzsche

I must know thee, Unknown One

Thou who searchest out the depths of my soul

And blowest like a storm through my life

Thou art inconceivable and yet my kinsman!

I must know thee and even serve thee

With Incomplete Sincerity

“There is no such thing as complete unity in a person, and so no one is ever completely sincere or insincere.”

“In order to live at peace with ourselves, we almost always disguise our impotence and weakness as calculated actions and systems, and so we satisfy that part of us which is observing the other.”

Adolfe by Benjamin Contstant

Adolfe, by the way, is a fantastic but little known  French novel, one that seeks to plumb the depths of the human experience, and peal away the masks we inevitably wear in our dealings with one another. Even more importantly it strips away the deceptions with which we approach ourselves.