Sy Safransky
Sy Safransky is founder and editor emeritus of The Sun. He lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
Kicking The Corpse, Or Is This Love?
I’m having a hard time writing this. I think I’ve figured out why. I want it to be a eulogy, but I can’t stop kicking the corpse. I want you to care that another American newspaper has expired. But I wonder if I care.
July 1977Shotgun Vision
Book Review
Mike Rigsby, whose poems we’ve published before, asked me to say something about his new book, Shotgun Vision.
June 1977The Sacred And The Profane
Shall we throw Hustler and the Times into the fire? And, years from now, when these words and this argument are forgotten, shall we make into a funeral pyre the “spiritual” tracts we now so revere, those that spell out for us the right way, when we’re all heading the same way?
June 1977Six Stories
The life insurance salesman will be here soon. He will put it to him bluntly: he has responsibilities. In his case, there are photographs of the funeral. He is a handsome corpse. He feels flattered.
May 1977Dirty For Dirty: The State Vs. Larry Flynt, Or All In The Bloody Eye Of The Beholder
Hustler isn’t sex, but an advertisement for sex. And, like all advertisement, it must be judged, like it or not, as art.
April 1977About Time
I am running out these hours like a man condemned to live them. But life is eternal, sings the wind; everlasting, whispers the rain.
March 1977
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