Ivan Kirwan-Taylor
franz kafka goes to toads

When Gregor Samsa woke one morning from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed into a monstrous freshman.

LOVE And Laughter between 125th and infinity

George Wolfe’s “The Colored Museum” begins on the Celebrity Slaveship, amidst the flickering projections of antebellum and early-20th-century photographs and newspapers. Little is discernible, but […]

Donald Trump Goes to Toads

I think my strongest asset is by far my tolerance. I have a very strong tolerance. For alcohol, I mean. Not for women presidents. I […]

Walt Whitman goes to toads

I fuck myself up, and what I consume you shall consume, for every beer belonging to you as good belongs to me. I chug and […]

Marcel Proust Goes to Toads

For a long time, I was desirous of meeting St. Thomas Aquinas.

KIRWAN-TAYLOR: Hemingway goes to Toads

In the winter of that year I had come into some money as my father had died. I had squandered too many evenings drinking alone, […]

Geneaologies, Old and New

It has been a very good week for art at Yale. First, the joyous, vibrant and utterly packed reception of Black Pulp, curated by Yale […]

Their Youth, and Ours

“This Is Our Youth” ticks all the boxes. One may begin with the set: cluttered, noisy and painstaking. The crew took their time. Zappa and […]

Junglepussy and a Vision for Bodacious Self-Love

It’s a soggy Tuesday afternoon, and St. Anthony Hall has never looked so sexy.

Holden Caulfield Goes to Toads

You probably want to know how a goddam jerk like me got into Yale. What my Common App was, that crap.

Zishi Li