Category Archives: frivolity
Happy Valentine’s Day, scholars! These are electronic postcards that you’d be smart to send! Enjoy. TweetShare this with your friends on Facebook.
It’s all very happenstance, but a series of events led to UPPERCASE magazine devoting a two-page spread to me and my work with Tweed. UPPERCASE is “a magazine for the creative and curious.” While its focus is not academics, scholarship … Continue reading
The best thing about the academy is the academic community. Thanks for being mine. I’m truly delighted that our work together advances your publication goals and your scholarly career. And your research is my greatest source of intellectual challenge and … Continue reading
A few chillier days in Portland have made something abundantly clear to me: summer may be over. Part of me doesn’t want to concede that it’s already the traditional time to hit the books, to start new intellectual projects, and … Continue reading
It’s Labor Day weekend in the United States, and I’m finding that I actually do have time to enjoy the holiday. This is no small achievement. Since you readers are academics, I’m guessing you’re pretty familiar with quasi–free time. Our … Continue reading
Whatever you have planned for the weekend, make the most of it, writers! TweetShare this with your friends on Facebook.
A couple weeks ago, I drove to the Oregon coast with my sweetie, who is a Paul Krugman devotee. (Krugman is a professor of economics and international affairs at Princeton and writes an op-ed column and a blog for the … Continue reading
In honor of the television series that I have been streaming online, I’ve added a new pair of postcards to Tweed’s collection. I just watched an episode of Murder, She Wrote in which Jessica Fletcher lectures at a prestigious university, … Continue reading
Happy Fourth of July, all! If I might make one suggestion, take some time this weekend to ponder how good it would feel to be independent of that writing project you’ve been meaning to wrap up. I’ll do the same. … Continue reading