Glenn Lowry is, among other things, a public intellectual and an academic economist.
He's just published a memoir that is unlike anything I've ever read.
And I'm guessing unlike anything you've ever read either.
It's called late Confessions of a black conservative.
Here's the first line of Lowry's book.
We are playing a game, you and I, reader and author.
And what are the rules of Lowry's game?
Here's how I'd describe it.
The writer will tell the reader things about himself that most people would never admit publicly.
And the reader will try to determine if these admissions are what Lowry calls a cover story meant to obscure something even worse, or if the writer is being honest.
Why?
To what end?
The book is to some degree an exercise in game theory, which is appropriate given that one of Lowrys mentors was the pioneering game theorist Thomas Schelling, who helped create us nuclear deterrence policy during the Cold War.
The deeds and misdeeds that Lowry confesses to in the book, you may be inclined to not believe them.
Having read the book and now having spoken with Lowry, I am inclined to believe them, which doesn't necessarily make things any more comfortable.
One thing that strikes me, during all the troubles you've had and all the double lives you've led, it seemed as though you were shockingly bad at self reflection.
There are all these moments reading about your life where the reader just wants to say, no, no, no, don't do that again.
It's like watching the bad horror movie.
Like don't go into the basement where the guy with the chainsaw is hiding.
Don't do that.