Exquisite Corpse

A sometimes surreal exercise in cooperative writing to be performed by a rotating cast of Torontonians, one hundred words at a time.

Friday, April 27, 2018

A time for semantics (part 2)

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“Van attack” has a “short sharp shock” metre going for it, but, for assonance, “van rampage” – the name the Toronto Star and Huffington Pos...
Thursday, April 26, 2018

A time for semantics (part 1)

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Some earlier mass killings-by-vehicle, e.g., “the Berlin Christmas Market attack” or “the London Bridge attack” are named for more specific...
Wednesday, April 25, 2018

In a Surreal World

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Is Exquisite Corpse dead or merely moribund?      The Corpse’s last post was made in November, 2016. Since then, Donald Trump has become U...
Thursday, November 10, 2016

Another Cent-less Loss

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On February 4, 2013, in a typically arbitrary and mean cost-cutting move, Steven Harper’s Conservative government withdrew the Canadian pen...
Thursday, October 20, 2016

The Typeface Families, part iii

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Arial Baskerville wished she’d never signed up for speed dating. The first man to read her nametag asked if her parents liked Shakespeare. A...
Tuesday, October 11, 2016

The Typeface Families, part ii

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Baskerville has a thick old face, and his whole Roman-nosed clan seems stolid and button-down. A bit constipated. They bring to mind a mante...
Friday, October 7, 2016

The Typeface Families, part i

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The Morisons lived as if in times that were Roman – yet new. Stanley Morison embraced a Mediterranean fusion diet. His signature dish: a st...
Sunday, September 11, 2016

Bobblehead Ernie and the Pennant Race

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The Blue Jays’ recent swoon coincides with a serious injury to my bobblehead Ernie Whitt, suffered in the course of an overzealous clean...
Thursday, August 25, 2016

Pane E Sciroppo di mais

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Few images have stayed in my mind as indelibly as a scene from Franco Brusati’s Pane E Cioccolata . Here a group of illegal migrant workers ...
Monday, August 1, 2016

Gold Star

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It’s well-established I'm shallow but “Gold Star?” Seriously? Gotta wonder what were the other contenders for this label?      My T...
Saturday, June 11, 2016

Pasta al packer

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The rest of the spaghetti noodles Half a Belgian endive The rest of the crumbly low-fat goat cheese, maybe it’s crumbly b/c it sat out ...
Friday, May 6, 2016

A Letter to my Future Self

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That two-pound tub of tahini you just purchased won’t expire till 2019, so there’s every chance you’ll forget where you finally did find...
9 comments:
Tuesday, February 2, 2016

The Last Days of Mon Patou, Part III

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I finally got my answer to how Riley's dog was faring among the trampling cows at his new home. Turned out, he’d never reached it. Whil...
Sunday, January 31, 2016

The Last Days of Mon Patou, Part II

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Riley was writing happy emails about moving in with her beau. But she never answered when I asked how her dog, Mon Patou, was doing. I tr...
Friday, January 29, 2016

The Last Days of Mon Patou, Part I

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I adored Mon Patou. We’d taken to each other instantly, lunging and feinting as we played in the new snow. He’d used to work with a whole...
Sunday, January 10, 2016

Your report on the subway

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I saw your report on the subway. The one from the SickKids Neuroscopy Department. You’re sitting sleepy in your parka, between a man and a ...
Tuesday, November 10, 2015

What We Remember Depends

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Nola’s kindergarten class made felt poppies on Friday to teach them about Remembrance Day, and to wear to the concert put on by the older ki...
12 comments:
Sunday, November 8, 2015

Men of Tin, Take Pity

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In fields of Oz the poppies blew, succumbing the blood of beast and man to luscious slumber. Dorothy slept, and Toto too, and their burly...
10 comments:
Monday, September 21, 2015

More Reasons to Throw Them Out

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Won’t meet with premiers. Won’t meet with chiefs. Stifle dissent, vilify opponents, exploit anxiety. Leave a vacuum then excoriate those f...
Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Bobby Martin IX: Guacamole

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Mrs. Terplitsky brought over guacamole this time. Cally wondered how to eat guacamole when Theo had died, alone and upset. He’d been worr...
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