A cake of ice flowed
Towards Joe on his birthday morn
With forty-five flames.
A cake of ice flowed
Towards Joe on his birthday morn
With forty-five flames.
A nod to Kierkegaard and Walker Percy: existentialist tomfoolery, political satire, literary homage, word mongering, a year-round summer reading club, Dylanesque music bits, apocalyptic marianism, poetry, fiction, meta-porn, a prisoner work-release program.
Søren Kierkegaard
Walker Percy
Bob Dylan
Literature & History
Letters from an American
Beau of the Fifth Column
This American Life
The Writer’s Almanac
San Diego Reader
The Stranger
The Inlander
Adoremus
Charlotte was Both
The Onion
From Empty Hands
Ellen Finnigan
America
Commonweal
First Things
National Review
The New Republic
All Manner of Thing
Gerasene Writers Conference
Scrutinies
DarwinCatholic
Catholic and Enjoying It
Bad Catholic
Universalis
Is My Phylactery Showing?
Quotidian Quintilian
En pocas palabras
William Wilson, Guitarist Extraordinaire
Signposts in a Strange Land
Ben Hatke
Daniel Mitsui
Dappled Things
The Fine Delight
Gene Luen Yang
Wiseblood Books
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See also
Happy Birthday JOB. Enjoy your cake made with deer lard frosting.
He’s a Capricorn, like Our Lord.
To my senior partners, I tip my hat.
The heartbreakingly worst thing about turning 45 is that no one who raises a glass and says, “Here’s to another 45 years!” actually believes it will be the case.
JOB
Sure, but isn’t it some consolation to hear the Great Cloud of Witnesses cheering you along the home stretch?
Anyway, here’s to another 45 years!