The Korrektiv Iceberg

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Free Samples commented on Attached Earlobes and Criminal Tendencies

Words of the Day: Doggerel

A new book by Brian Jobe we sort of forgot to mention last year.

Sample here

Caraway Revisited

It’s Walker Percy’s Hundredth Birthday and We Suck

… but here’s the beginning of an epic poem about the time a young man met the man himself:

November 22, 1989

The day I met Walker, the rain had fallen
in Louisiana sheets, and I’d left
my tent illicitly pitched in the Bogue Falaya
State Park, along with a bookish bottle
of Early Times I’d taken a few swigs off of
in the dark the night before as pine cones pitched
and fell outside as if in triadic morse code
from Flannery in heaven telling me grace was in
the river. And alligators, too, I reckoned.
I walked the cracked sidewalks of Covington, aimlessly,
dazed by the wonder of seeing vines sprouting
through the cracks in a sacramental vision,
a concelebration of the namer and the named,
and lept across the flashflood puddles
as I made my way towards no destination
but found myself in The Kumquat bookstore
to oggle shelves bursting with signed copies
of The Moviegoer, The Last Gentleman, Love in the Ruins, Lancelot,
The Second Coming, The Thanatos Syndrome, Lost
in the Cosmos, The Message in the Bottle, books
that had changed (and continue to change) my life.
Oh Walker (Oh Rory) I was twenty-four
and pining for a woman I was also
on the run from in triangular
despair (yet thanks in part to you I also
was aware, at least a little — a foothold —
of the despair, contrary to that Kierkegaardian
epigraph, precisely pitched though it is).
Oh Walker: so I bought a stack of books,
some for me and some for those I loved,
and left instructions with the keeper of
the store to have you encode, in your
physician’s scrawl, your cracked prescriptions
where the vines of love and truth might grow from bourbon
and ink, the cumulative bliss of limitation,
where you and I might clear a space for being.

Today in Pseudonyms

Angelico Nguyen Likes This.




Thank you


Couplet for Ash Wednesday

Korrektivians enjoy (being bad) Lent,
to Easter as to Christmas is Advent.

Korrektiv Press considers name change


The Korrektiv Press board of trustees is set to vote on a proposed name change for the quasi-Catholic press. Rufus McCain, Korrektiv’s semi-reclusive director of prison outreach, has brought forward a motion to re-christen the confusingly-spelled media conglomerate as Glut Press. The small but feisty Kierkegaard-inspired publishing house–referred to elsewhere as a”loose affiliation of bad Catholics”–has a cult following that extends to heretics, pagans, Protestants, attached-lobers, and malcontents across the political and theological spectrum. The board will vote on the name change at their July meeting on Guemes Island in Washington State.

Thanksgivings Past

Webb Thanksgiving Day Turkey Dinner: A Family Recipe

One Large Turkey

Bake at 350 degrees for four hours or until done. Baste every 30 minutes.

God in the Streets of New York City


To add to the grief, Humpford’s grandfather (Humpford the First) died of a heart attack later that year, a few days after a dismal Thanksgiving, and only in his mid-sixties.

Happy Thanksgiving From Korrektiv

turkey hunt

What Have You Done for Me Lately?
(by Lickona)

Advent Meditation: Thanksgiving Edition (Guest Post by CNB)

Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive the early and latter rain. Be ye also patient; stablish your hearts: for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh. –James 5:7-8

A Platter of Live Turkey at Dinner!
(by Holland Potter, age 8)

Lucy and Charlie were looking out the window on Thanksgiving. They were waiting for their aunt, uncle, grandma, and grandpa to show up at their house. They were going to have a Thanksgiving dinner together.

When the grandparents got there, they all sat down at the table to prepare the Thanksgiving dinner. When they opened the platter to get the turkey, the turkey was alive!

The turkey ran around the kitchen and pooped in the pudding. Then it sat in the pumpkin pie and while it sat in the pumpkin pie it peed! Then it got up and barfed on the floor! Lucy got up, carefully to avoid the barf, and grabbed a knife and slashed the turkey right in the head! The turkey flopped right over and then its head fell off.

They went to the store and got another turkey, and that turkey didn’t cause any trouble.

Cooking with Mel


Driving home from the screening of The Counselor last night (ooofgoseeit), I found myself driving through a trail of pages. Not a cloud as in the clip above – just one, two, maybe five at a time, strung out over the course of a couple of miles of interstate. I thought about pulling onto the shoulder and picking one up, just to see. The thought made my heart break a little, and I kept driving.

Let’s get some good work done for Gerasene ’14.

Check In


Temporarily Not For Sale


Mission statement (2nd draft)


Note the K.

The Korrektiv Mission Statement [draft]