The Epistle Dedicatory to Arthur Bingham Walkley
I first read George Bernard Shaw’s Man and Superman, A Comedy and a Philosophy, starting sometime in 2010, and was not finished with the play until sometime (quite late) in 2011. I’m a slow reader,...
View ArticleThis is it
Boredom. Depression. Malaise. The sense that time’s just passing, the thought that It has designs on you, is going to fuck you up, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe just as soon as you stop...
View ArticleThe Pedagogy of the Oppressed
The title is shared with a book I picked up on my last visit to Northern California; my Dad had reserved a shelf of his bookcase to volumes that had been owned (and predictably underlined,...
View ArticleYour Feelings are Out to Get You
I couldn’t tell you when it happened, exactly, and in truth there’s no reason to suspect that its growth was unlike the spread of a fungal colony; deep underground somewhere, the notion that what...
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If at first you don’t succeed, scoop it into the garbage and ask how many...
I made a failed cake yesterday. I loathe few things more than failed foodstuffs, but like most anything, they require a bit of failure now and then to season a person into sanity. It was a pineapple...
View ArticleThinking you can infer the meaning of new words: still eviling strong
There’s a certain amount of danger involved in living in a place while you’re a little short on the language’s vocabulary. And by danger, I mean hilarity, and an occasional healthy dose of humiliation....
View ArticleIn which a city that never sleeps burns out.
It’d seem a simple force of nature if not for the presence of so much un-naturally stamped in blue-gray columns and rows ’round the rotting monuments of this mass they’ve had the gall to call...
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