The New York Review of Books is not where you'd expect a distinguished littérateur, MacArthur genius, Pulitzer winner, and recent U.S. poet laureate to go all Howard Beale, even in a Web-only feature. But Charles Simic did it there, today. If you're in the mood for rubbernecking, check this out.

I would strongly urge Mr. Simic to reach into his refrigerator and toss out whatever it was he ate last night for dinner.