{superlefty}

And So This Is Christmas

For your (re-)reading pleasure, a few ghosts of Christmases past.

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A Hanukkah Story

Today is a very special day. It is both the sixth night of Hanukkah and the birthday of one of the founders of the People’s Republic of Rock and Roll. Have you ever seen a founder of the People’s Republic of Rock and Roll light a menorah, her eyes wide with innocence and delight? I have. To light, to life, to the ones we love who burn, burn, burn–

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Insurance

In which SubyRuby becomes insured and SuperLefty becomes enraged.

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SubyRuby

In which SuperLefty seeks, finds, and purchases SubyRuby.

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Bow Band of Brothers

In honor of D-Day, I wrote this essay about weddings and wars.

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Man Ray and Jewish Identity

Though in retrospect it seems ridiculously daft, it did not occur to me that the reason the Man Ray exhibit was up at the Jewish Museum this past winter was that Man Ray himself was Jewish.

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Reborn Saints and Newborn Babies: Complex and Contradictory Themes in the Advertising and Halftime Show of Super Bowl XLIV

Leave it to America to present a geriatric sexuality on its biggest stage, in swift and sharp reaction to the one moment a naked boob was seen on live television.That single second of boob exposure catapulted us into a now six-year cycle of men in the target market for Viagra.

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On Love

Did you ever sit on rock in the midst of a thunder- and lightning-storm, holding hands with someone you could only see every few minutes for a fraction of a second while the rest of the time you sat in pitch-darkness under all that noise and falling water, soaked and shivering not with cold but thrill as it was hot, high summer? And then wonder later why the only romantic experiences that made you feel anything at all were those that made very loud noises and were illuminated in tiny increments of time and often felt like they might wash you away? Which came first, the desire to see the thunderstorm or the thunderstorm you saw?

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Selfishness

I was crossing through Gowanus on Union Street the other day when I saw the most beautiful light coming through the scrim of a pair of enormous, undulating curtains. I was just west of that parody of urban water features, the Gowanus canal, in the spate of warehouses and row houses between the pollution and the South Brooklyn Casket Company.

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