1. 22:25 16th Mar 2014

    Notes: 1

    Welcome to the new JACK DICKEY DOT COM, a fully Web 2.0 presence for all your branded and monetized content. Ha, OK, no, but I did update my list of things I wrote and liked and added a headshot that wasn’t of Robert Stack. Baby steps.

    As always, better just to email me about whatever could possibly be on your mind.

     
  2. taylorswiftfragrancereviews:

    "My son’s dad bought me this when it came out for Christmas. It’s not what I expected."

    You really cannot top this Tumblr.

     
  3. So excited for the start of Jays baseball.

    So excited for the start of Jays baseball.

     
  4. Super-hokey, but, hey, it’s that time of year. Take it away, Stack.

    Originally aired 23 December 1992.

     
  5. I ended my night at Lolita, on Broome Street in SoHo, recommended to me by friends. It’s a languid, sprawling space, with an excellent pink cursive neon sign in front, where most of the women looked like extras from an episode of Lena Dunham’s HBO series, “Girls.” I would report to you the books they were carrying, but the only readers in the bunch were grasping Kindles. When it’s no longer possible to tell what attractive young women are reading, part of the romance of Manhattan is gone. It’s time to move to Sheboygan and open a deli.
    — Dwight Garner, “A Critic’s Tour of Literary Manhattan,” The New York Times, 16 December 2012.
     
  6. Finals week at Columbia. Yikes.

    Finals week at Columbia. Yikes.

     
  7. I thanked Mr. Henderson. I didn’t go right down to the pig, though. I sank into a chair and sat still for a few minutes to think about my troubles, and then I got up and went to the barn, catching up on some odds and ends that needed tending to. Unconsciously I held off, for an hour, the deed by which I would officially recognize the collapse of the performance of raising a pig; I wanted no interruption in the regularity of feeding, the steadiness of growth, the even succession of days. I wanted no interruption, wanted no oil, no deviation. I just wanted to keep on raising a pig, full meal after full meal, spring into summer into fall. I didn’t even know whether there were two ounces of castor oil on the place.
    — 

    From E.B. White’s “Death of a Pig,” January 1948. Available in The Second Tree From the Corner. Go read the whole thing.

    I adored this essay, and it’s hard to say precisely why. It has all the usual White stylistic virtues—it’s funny, precise, straightforward—but that’s not really it. Maybe it’s this, and you’ll have to allow me to make a strained connection: What White does here is retell his way of living. The reader probably cannot help but be charmed by it (I couldn’t). Compare this, stylistically, to that wretched irony essay in The New York Times last week, which prescribes a similar way of living but does it pompously, didactically, and dishonestly. The lesson, as far as I can tell, is that the writer should tell only the story he can, and then he should stay out of the reader’s way. But maybe that’s not it. I don’t know. Anyway. Maine.

     
  8. 18:55 19th Nov 2012

    Notes: 2

    So this is what happens when you tell Tiki Barber that the Jets are going to make the playoffs and that the Jaguars can win with Chad Henne. BYAH!

    So this is what happens when you tell Tiki Barber that the Jets are going to make the playoffs and that the Jaguars can win with Chad Henne. BYAH!

     
  9. image: Download

    Well now I built that Challenger by myself, but I needed money and so I sold itI lived a secret I shoulda kept to myself, but I got drunk one night and I told itAll my life I fought this fight, the fight that no man can ever winEvery day it just gets harder to live this dream I’m believing inThunder Road, oh baby you were so rightThunder Road, there’s somethin’ dyin’ down on the highway tonight.

    Well now I built that Challenger by myself, but I needed money and so I sold it
    I lived a secret I shoulda kept to myself, but I got drunk one night and I told it
    All my life I fought this fight, the fight that no man can ever win
    Every day it just gets harder to live this dream I’m believing in
    Thunder Road, oh baby you were so right
    Thunder Road, there’s somethin’ dyin’ down on the highway tonight.

     
  10. Oh my god holy shit this is so perfect and so wrong and yet so right I don’t even know what to add.