Grey ears perhaps. The AR ponders in Winter the Fall, the season of, and other implications . He thinks of a wily Ionian warrior and Lord Tennyson. He thinks of his Beloved DIK. ******* Ulysses It little profits that an idle king,  By this still hearth, among these barren crags,  Match’d with an aged wife, … More To Strive, To Seek

(Author of Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell) The Authorial Rabbit, himself once a young buck, a boy creature, having just read Michelle Goldberg and David Brooks in the New York Times and Conor Friedersdorf in The Atlantic, all reviewing Richard Reeves On Boys and Men about this troubling time for boys and men, … More Boys

“Selfish!” I said to Titmarsh, whose reaction caught me by surprise, for one doesn’t always think before speaking. “Over what?” he said, his face shocked. I realized my error. “No, no, no,” cried the Authorial Rabbit. “The subject. Not the object, i.e., anyone.” Thinking I could use a bit of mild humour to get us … More Selfish

The AR bows down before the DIK, not a DIK elect, as G&S had it, but a wise female, having gone where only women have to go and survived, learned, loved and still loves, so hopes in his case the AR. The Taliban now and again are requiring women to drape themselves completely in public, … More Women First

“It’s all about stories,” said the DIK, the Doe I Know. I am the Authorial Rabbit, the AR, and I have not told any stories in this format for some time, its having been so astounding a period between my last post and now. “Stories?” responded the AR, shaking his shaggy head with its comic … More Stories, Madness and the Heroic Struggle

A whispered “Hello. Guten tag.” “Who is this?” — as if I didn’t know. It is K., my reclusive, one might say paranoid, dear friend. He uses an encrypted cellphone, no number showing, no possibility of tracing. “Freedom. Freiheit. It is to laugh.” K. has been close to me, the Authorial Rabbit, for years, decades, … More Freedom

“What’s wrong with kids these days?” asks the AR of his friend Titmarsh. “Why can’t they be like we were, perfect in every way?” When the AR was young, long ago, he goes on raggedly, cubs were polite. It is not that the AR has had a run-in with a young person. To the contrary … More Manners

“How’s that leg?” queried the Authorial Rabbit of his friend Titmarsh. “Oh, it goes, it goes.” “Goes and goes, slows and slows,” intoned the AR, providing the echo of sympathetic companionship among the aging. The two friends strolled near the beach, where today in white sunshine, young does lay on towels displaying more haunch than … More Old

In Fellini’s late-career 1972 film Roma, the director, who appears as himself in one segment, speeds around his beloved city at night with a camera crew and in the worst weather; and at the end of the film sends a troupe of motorcycle riders on a noisy frenetic tour past the city’s great sites. He … More Roma

The jab reveals. (The AR awakens from his months long sleep and greets his readers once again.) In socially distanced conversations or otherwise, at the workplace, on Facebook, gossip by phone and text, in mainstream media or the media’s fetid shallows, whether one has had the jab(s) or what one says about it/them is not … More Jabs