There are many good things to say bout the Goulet Pen Company, but one of them is the degree of care they take in packaging items for shipment. Most bottles of ink are individually wrapped to insure against leakage, then are wrapped in several layers of bubble wrap to prevent them from getting banged around, and then again in plastic wrap to protect them against the elements. As you might expect, I’ve never had any item arrive in a damaged state, despite packages being left in the rain, left in the snow, and left in the rain/snow combination whimsically referred to as a “wintery mix.

“Hola, Señor.” “Hello, cat.” “It is a lovely and glorious day today, is it not? The sun is shining, the birds are chirping…” “You’re not supposed to be on the table. What do you want?” “Well, speaking of birds – since you won’t let me outside to eat them, would you instead treat me to a bite of your pizza?” “No.” “No?” “No.” “I see. Well, these are tumultuous times that we live in.

When someone gets bitten with the fountain pen bug, they often become overwhelmed by all of the available choices, and then quickly ask a number of questions: What is the difference between a cartridge, a converter, a piston, and a vacuum fill? What’s the difference between a steel and gold nib? Who makes the best ink? What kind of paper do I need? What’s more, where do I get all of this stuff?

I would burn for you if you asked me to. I would douse myself in kerosene, Light a match, and wrap myself in flames So that I might join you in solidarity – That I might join you in protest Of a brutal and blameless man, Who left you bruised and beaten outside and Battered and broken inside and Burning – so brightly burning – all over.

I wish I could fragment myself, Split myself in two, In twelve, In one hundred and forty four thousand, In order to take on the suffering Of each and every one of them: The disaffected. The disenchanted. The disenfranchised. The depressed, the isolated, and the melancholy. The used, the abused, and the broken-hearted. The maltreated. The malnourished. The maladjusted. To each and every one of them, To each and every one who hurts,

My infatuation with Noodler’s bulletproof ink continues. This time, it is #41 Brown – an ink named after the junior senator from Massachusetts, Scott Brown. I’ll get to the political meaning behind the name later, when I discuss the label - but for now, let it be known that the ink is a rich, dark brown with golden overtones. It is highly saturated, like most Noodler’s inks, which results in a solid, clean line with little shading.

De Atramentis Aubergine is a wonderful, juicy purple that is more red than Diamine Imperial Purple, but less so than Iroshizuku Yama Budo. It’s one of those inks that possess a name that’s far more evocative than anything I could come up with. They weren’t kidding when they named it Aubergine. The color fits nicely into the purple family – filling a gap in my ink collection that I didn’t even know existed.

Rohrer and Klingner make wonderful inks – I’ve enjoyed Morinda, a vibrant, juicy candy-red, and Verdigris, a dark, weathered blue-green. I also really liked Scabiosa, a dusky purple, and one of the only non-blue-black iron gall inks that I’ve ever seen. Salix is R&K’s other iron gall ink, and it, too, defies the traditional iron-gall color scheme, though not as significantly as Scabiosa. Salix goes down on paper a bright oceanic blue and then darkens as it dries.

…or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb Noodler’s Black was the very first bottle of fountain pen ink that I purchased. I’d heard people rave about the ink – how smooth it made any pen write, how solid a line it produced, how little it feathered on nearly any surface. When I set out to use it though, I was unimpressed. I reviewed it unenthusiastically, citing its long dry time and lack of character as reasons I didn’t plan to use it frequently.

The fog devours the world today, Gray and voracious, Like a swarm of mosquitoes feasting On the salt-streaked flesh of summer revelers It eats and eats and eats and eats, Whatever thought or care, Whatever sympathy or empathy It might otherwise have for its prey Completely subsumed by the desire, The burning desire, The endless desire, The burning and endless desire To sate its burning and endless hunger What was there now is gone,