Rumpus Original
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Stunned Silence
What wearies me is how often I have found myself stunned and silent in recent years. What especially wearies me is having such a finely honed vocabulary for tragedy.
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ALBUM #4, AUDIO PORTRAITS OF ARTISTS AND WRITERS AT WORK: Lea Thau
Peabody Award-winning producer and director Lea Thau came to New York City from her native Denmark in 1996 to pursue graduate studies in comparative literature.
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TED WILSON REVIEWS THE WORLD #48 (AUDIO)
I’m very excited to announce that Nelson Education is featuring my review of the alphabet in one of their upcoming textbooks.
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When Faggots Shoot
It takes two years before Bob shows his gun collection to me. The guns are in the corner closet of a room I’ve slept in over thirty times. He opens the slatted door with a key, and one by one,…
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The Sunday Rumpus Interview: Aleksandar Hemon
“I never thought of myself as an outsider…[Y]ou would have to give advantage to this space where you’re not, to think of it as sovereign because you’re not there.”
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Saturday Rumpus Essay: All Tied Up: Homeland and The Female Fabulists
I was immediately captivated. Obsessed. It was the first time I’d seen a layered exploration of an American woman’s psychological response to the war on terror.
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Yellow Peril and the American Dream
We are terrified of racial guilt. But when we’re too afraid to actually deal with what’s happening in the world, to acknowledge our responsibility or what’s at stake, we will be doomed to miss the point over and over again.
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The Rumpus Interview with Ben Yagoda
Writer and journalist Ben Yagoda addresses today’s recurring writing problems, how to be a sympathetic editor, and why it’s nice to play for Team Yagoda.
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Rumpus Readers Remember Roger Ebert
Roger Ebert had this elegance about him that made us all want to be like him.
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SELF-MADE MAN #21: Love Your Zombie
Sometimes I get this ragged wind in my chest. It’s a graveyard in there, too: instead of clothes holding my ghost shape, it’s my old self that calls out from beneath bone.
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Heidelberg
My father laid his guns down on the kitchen table next to our box of Cocoa Puffs: the .38 from his ankle and the .38 from his hip, as flat and lifeless as my expression.
