The Blog of the Dewy Red

Dearg Druchtach's "joint" (as the young people say)
DECEMBER 9, 2009 10:17PM

Who the hell funds this stuff?

I manage a program that assists scholars in certain areas in the publication of their research, so of course I understand the difference between theoretical and applied, etc.  But sometimes even I am baffled at what will manage to land a grant.

The Daily Mail (which I suspect is, in/

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DECEMBER 6, 2009 10:32PM

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/
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DECEMBER 3, 2009 4:13PM

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 »

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 haRead full post »
NOVEMBER 29, 2009 10:32PM

On compliments

We are lying together, facing each other, and the boy is stroking my face, looking at me with those pelagic eyes.  And he says to me, in his English, “You are so beautiful.”  And my instinct is to say to him, No, you don’t have to say that; don’t say that.Read full post »
NOVEMBER 27, 2009 11:07PM

When words support like bone

[A re-post from my old blog.  Pardon.]
Time has transfigured them into
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/
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NOVEMBER 26, 2009 11:02PM

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 »

NOVEMBER 25, 2009 10:22AM

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 »

NOVEMBER 23, 2009 9:01PM

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, orRead full post »

NOVEMBER 21, 2009 6:02PM

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 »

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 »

NOVEMBER 19, 2009 9:10PM

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 »

NOVEMBER 18, 2009 10:50PM


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 »

NOVEMBER 17, 2009 8:57PM

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, bRead full post »

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. Read full post »

NOVEMBER 16, 2009 11:29PM

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 »

NOVEMBER 13, 2009 6:22PM

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 »

NOVEMBER 13, 2009 11:55AM

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 »

NOVEMBER 13, 2009 12:17AM

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

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NOVEMBER 13, 2009 12:16AM

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

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