Saturday, June 27, 2009
I woke up this morning with Timothy Dwight in my bed
I woke up this morning with Timothy Dwight in my bed...
Or, so I might sing if I was a blues singer. It is better than my mother-in-law or butter and eggs. It might just be the unfortunate kickback of too much dissertation work. I have to admit that I am captivated by these 19th-century folks. They are so earnest and so serious and so profoundly immune to the ironic. I, of course, actually live with someone that would make fast friends of William L. Garrison. I am proud of that. I am beginning to love my work. Even though it feels like it is going to be rather professionally infertile. I like these haunts and spooks and grave souls skulking around my mind. I like the way their seriousness and optimism challenges my jaded half-heartedness! I want to go take down some monstrous and impossibly inviolate institution. (I just need to take care that I don't build a bunch of prisons and asylums along the way. )