Since Christmas of last year, I am down 60lbs to about 205 lbs, which is incredible to me in the first place. I could probably stand to lose another 20 lbs, maybe more, but I don’t want to look like I’m dying of some sort of wasting disease. I should…
The Tao Of My Rage
Attempting to navigate the world with all its insolent depredations.
The Art And Obligation Of Responsible Criticism
Navigating the minefield of creative enterprise and the fragility of artistic souls.
Taste A Little Of The Summer
“Peaches on the shelf, potatoes in the bin. Supper’s ready, everybody come on in, now taste a little of the summer, you can taste a little of the summer. My grandma’s put it all in jars.” Greg Brown An excursion of the senses, exploring life at the Jersey shore It’s August.…
Killing Time Waiting For A Friend
I spend a little time out in the world and find it lacking I am sitting at a Denny’s in Northfield, NJ, having coffee and waiting for my breakfast. I haven’t been to a Denny’s since I was in high school. If you’ve not spent time in America, Denny’s is a nationwide…
And The Band Plays On
Avoiding apathy on my way to acceptance I have always considered apathy a weak position based on ignorance, selfishness, or cowardice. You didn’t care: either because you didn’t understand, couldn’t be bothered, or were too frightened to act. I believe there was a time in our recent history when this was true, and…
Everyone Is Wearing Shorts
Closing a chapter on what we choose to crow about All morning, I kept hearing that song “Funeral” by Phoebe Bridgers. “I’m singin’ at a funeral tomorrow, for a kid a year older than me, and I’ve been talkin’ to his dad, it makes me so sad, when I think too…
I Was Told There’d Be More
Ghost signs, finite energy, and the weight of souls “Fuck you,” the voice cries out from below in the darkness. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” It is quiet for a bit, then the sobbing that ends in a wail rises up, before falling into the now familiar refrain, “Fuck you,…
What To Do With What’s Left
A meditation on life and death, and the meaning of it all Jane’s best friend lost her husband. This was just the other day, the day before yesterday, in fact. Jane is my wife. One minute, the husband was fine, or so everyone thought, and the next, he was gone. Collapsed…
Finding The Idea In Your Story
The purpose of writing is to present new ideas that have the power to change minds.