The Blog of the Dewy Red
MY RECENT POSTS
- She breathes, she walks . . .
.
August 18, 2011 11:27AM - Ashes to ashes
March 06, 2011 10:33PM - Placeholders
November 30, 2010 10:05PM - Meandering
October 14, 2010 01:13AM - On loving long
August 05, 2010 10:36AM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “Bless. I have no
intention of dating again--I
didn't have a
lot of faith to
begi…”
August 17, 2010 09:23AM - “Okay, I can _never_
watch this now. Because
there's simply no
way the
footage co…”
August 13, 2010 10:15AM - “This almost makes me
wish I understood the first
thing about
golf. almost.
;-)…”
August 13, 2010 10:08AM - “Wait! Wait! Phoebe! What
about the recipe for tuna
casserole?
I want to
make…”
August 10, 2010 03:24PM - “I always feel vaguely
Scrooge-like for frowning on
the
"graduation"
cer…”
August 10, 2010 02:45PM
The Dewy Red's Links
- The World of the Dewy Red
- The Guardian
- El PaĆs
- Irish Independent
- An Phoblacht
- Le Figaro
- Heeheehee
- The Onion
- Cuteoverload
- The Daily Mail
- Hitchens Watch
Loving in verse
With my life having the shape it does, I am
sometimes asked for my idea of a great love poem. I am known,
despite myself, as a cynic, so there is often laughter when I
present my title of choice.
Were you but lying cold and dead,
And lights were paling out of/… Read full post »
On gifts
I make men unhappy. I don’t mean I actively set about to make them miserable. I mean that there is quite literally something about my presence that saddens them. Not every man, not everywhere, and not all the time. But many, often. This quality is, as far as I can/… Read full post »
The most-photographed place in the country, think you?
Below is a picture of a gentleman scholar of my acquaintance. The picture was taken in Turku, Finland. The charming-looking structure outside which he is sitting is a former public toilet. Is has been converted to a pub. It is called The Toilet.

I now ha… Read full post »
On compliments
When words support like bone
Untruth. The stone fidelity
They hardly meant has come to be
Their final blazon, and to prove
Our almost-instinct almost true:
What will survive of us is love.
-Philip Larkin, from "An Arundel/
On eyes
The boy has eyes too, of course. He is no eyeless creature. Indeed, such eyes. If I am a witch, or some sport of nature, he is a living anime figure. He is like Uchiha Sasuke, the angry, powerful boy from Naruto, all black hair and large, sloe eyes. I have/… Read full post »
On love
Charlie Brooker, one of my favourite Guardian columnists, made the astute observation below earlier this year. I have since returned to it in my mind any number of times, and think it stands as one of the finest assessments of the situation. For some of us, anyway.
Mr. Brooker conclu… Read full post »
I cannot be alone in this. Join me. Now.
We are all, surely, used by now to the phenomenon of the electronic voice. By this I mean the voices that greet us when we telephone . . . well, just about anywhere these days. Perhaps not one’s parents, or one’s good friends, but one’s bank, or a department store, or… Read full post »
Eyes and thoughts
I am the carrier of a genetic anomaly that manifests itself in a bicoloured iris; that is, my right eye contains two colours. It is not breathtakingly rare, but neither is it common, and I am used to people suddenly halting in the middle of conversations to comment upon the fact… Read full post »
What do this woman and Elizabeth Taylor have in common?
This woman is Violet Constance Jessop. This, I must say, is my idea of a tough broad. And I mean that in a very, very good way.
So, what do she and the Divine Miss T. have in common? Uh, nothin', really. Except for this: According to the article, Miss Jess… Read full post »
Saintly, me.
No, I didn’t actually know the righteous dood personally. But his feast day is my birthday. St. David is the patron saint of Wales. He founded a monastery there in the sixth century, which in Wales is apparently enough to get to you canonised.
I do not have a… Read full post »
Counting
I told the boy that all I wanted for Christmas was for Santa Claus to bring him to New York for a couple of weeks in January. Then last night I had a strange and vivid dream--not upsetting, just odd--that I was in our acting teacher's studio and could see many… Read full post »
The uncanny profundity of animals
Today, I wish to direct you toward something for which (like everything else on my blog, I'm sure) you shall prove eternally, weepily grateful. There there, baby. There there. Now, pull yourself together and go here.
The following image does not come from that magical site, b… Read full post »
A warning to all of my gentlemen readers . . . .
There have to be, what, two or three of you?It's too late for this young man, but please, save yourself. Because I love you, although not in any illegal ways.
http://www.neatorama.com/neat/worst-sin.htm Read full post »
On hands
The boy took me to his ancestral town when I last visited him in his country. It was a harsh, brown prospect in winter, but I imagine it is at other times of the year as well; the north of his country is not lush. He slowed the car down as… Read full post »
I'm in love with dead men
That's right. They're dead. And there's more than one of them. I'm both weird and a hussy.
Here they are, in no particular order of deliciousness:
Toshiro Mifune. Akira Kurosawa’s go-to leading man until they fell out in the mid-60s. Alternately overwhelm/… Read full post »
Happy weekend, pun'kins!
On economists:
"Tiresome, no wide outlooks, no touch with life, inferiority
complexes and no great ideas."
-Lydia Lopokova Keynes, Baroness Keynes, on practitioners of
Carlyle's dismal science.
"The long-term is a misleading guide to current affairs; in the
long-term we are all dead."
John Maynard Keyne… Read full post »
Memories; sense
When I was twenty and had my first semi-real boyfriend, my mother took me aside and quietly asked me please not to hold hands with him in public, or at least not in the vicinity of our neighbourhood. This seemed an entirely reasonable request
… Read full post »Same differences
I am lying on my stomach with one leg jackknifed out artfully, trying to make the vast, snowy expanse of my arse look slightly less huge. The boy is standing beside the bed and puts his long, slender hand on my thigh. "This is
… Read full post »The Dewy Red's Favorites
Updates
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My Code Year, Things Being More Equal Than Others
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When the Dead Won't Stay Dead
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My Movable Feast ~ Fiction
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For the Old Gang
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Woman at the Pool
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Announcing the Salon-Alternet Investigative Fund
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Good Friday Reflection: How Low Must God Go?
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Why Aren't Men More Outraged by the Oral Contraception Issue


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