Keyser Defamed Yet Again


Keyser was just on Facebook and took the quiz called “What sort of academic are you?” According to this insolent thing, search Keyser is an “eccentric, viagra asocial superstar” described in the following terms:

Unable to relate to the humans who surround you, clinic your life is dedicated to proving their inferiority through the medium of peer-reviewed publication. You chuckled quietly as your grad school “friends” struggled to factor geographical preferences into their job searches, while you focused relentlessly on finishing your book before you even hit the market. Your ‘research one’ position does not require you to interact with undergrads in any way, and–in fact–you are only marginally aware of their existence. Respected by those who haven’t met you, conferences bring only anxiety and social awkwardness, as you struggle to make “small talks” with those whom you find intellectually laughable, yet whose lives you envy ferociously.

Outrageous, who could say such a thing? Apart from anything else, if Keyser were a “superstar” he wouldn’t be living in a yurt in the middle of noplace. Well, let’s be fair. Two premiers back (oh, and for Keyser’s American readers, “premier” is what they call the chief political incompetent round these parts) said that this place isn’t on the edge of the world, but you can see it from here. Oh, ha ha, just turn the knife a bit further.

Anyway, so what if Keyser hates the idea of a room full of people you don’t know. Doesn’t everyone?

Look at that photo. Does that look like an eccentric freak to you? Well, okay, it’s not exactly Keyser, but it gives you a rough approximation.

Keyser’s Bored/Not Feeling Well

This damned flu thing won’t go away. Think it’s that Nile swine flu stuff everyone’s got their knickers in a twist about? Nah, viagra neither did Keyser. Anyway, ask he’s been desperately making the rounds, stuff and he’s got nada for you. No amusing photos, no commentary on how much Mrs. President’s shoes cost. Nothing.


Keyer would advise that you ask for your money back, but God knows where it’s been. (Don’t believe that economic talk about fungibility. It does matter which dollar bill you’re talking about.)

Life in the Frozen North

It was about 20ºC (68ºF) earlier in the week. Now, ask not so much. Keyser looks out the window this morning. Does he find this?


Not hardly, view as they say. Instead, patient the follow scene of horror met Keyser’s disbelieving eyes.


Whatever Keyser did in a previous life to deserve to spend this one in a refrigerator he doesn’t know.

But he wishes he hadn’t.

[Thanks to Mrs. S. for some of the images.]

Not Enough Time!

You know, cialis if Keyser has inculcated anything worthwhile in the next generation of Söze’s (a debatable proposition), it’s the idea that the most valuable commodity on earth is time. You can’t buy any more than what you’ve got, and once you’ve wasted it, you can’t get it back. When you’re young, you think you have all the time in the world, but sadly that’s not true. So much to do, so little time!

You may be asking yourself, “What is he going on about now?” It’s that Keyser is feeling sort of harried now, and feels bad about not posting more. There are all sorts of ideas bouncing around in his cranium, but – time, time, time! Actually, Keyser’s in the middle of finishing one book, but is taking out about a month to finish a separate book, and is feeling (internal) pressure to get it all done.

Anyway, Keyser will try to write more later, but after the current chapter is revised, he’d like to do another one this evening. And play a board game with Mrs. S. and the Smallest Keyserling. And, and, and…

You know, someone once sad that the saddest phrase in the English language was “if only.” Keyser thinks it’s “and…”

What Keyser Has to Put Up With

No, ampoule Keyser doesn’t mean the world’s most tedious commenter troll Emmoloch, hospital who continues to pile up the most preternaturally lame, obtuse and long comments on this post (due diligence demands the following warning: lasciate ogni speranza voi che entrate; for Emmoloch’s benefit, as she appears to be a bit “challenged” when it comes to words of more than two syllables, that’s Italian for: “In the name of God, woman, can you make yourself look any more foolish? No, wait! Forget I said that!”).

No, what Keyser means is the weather. Here is the scene of horror that greeted Keyser this morning. It’s April 14 for pity’s sake! The snow’s pretty much gone now, but still. Enough already (words that Emmoloch should heed).

That’s Lucius at the end, despondent at his ongoing inability to go hunt mice out by the compost bins.