Wisdom of the Creatives | From the Archives
Contributor Contributing Writer Contributor Contributing Writer

Wisdom of the Creatives | From the Archives

Long perched upon my living room table is a book gifted to me by an old friend called The War of Art, a play on Sun Tzu’s Art of War—only geared toward the creative process. Glancing through it once again this New Year's Eve, putting it down I resolved to seek more inspiration in my life, which in turn makes me more creative in my own life.

Read More
[Archived But Fresh] Humans are Scum
Contributor Contributing Writer Contributor Contributing Writer

[Archived But Fresh] Humans are Scum

I cannot express how excited I am. Because over the past couple weeks since I was assigned this topic, I’ve been overwhelmed by this deep, dark despair. But in the next few minutes, I get to unload it all onto you, and then I can resume the carefree complacency to which I’ve grown accustomed.

You. People. Suck.

 It’s true and you all know it and here are seven reasons why.

Read More
[From Back in the Day] All Art is Political
Contributor Contributing Writer Contributor Contributing Writer

[From Back in the Day] All Art is Political

But where, might you ask, is Art in all this. Well, if the concept of Politics precedes everything, guess what, Art, informs everything that politics and language created because 70,000 years ago, Homo sapiens developed an ability no other animal possesses, the ability to imagine that what which can not be seen. In other words, Imagination. If there is a dividing line between art and imagination, I’m hard pressed to find it.

Read More
Face the Music
Contributor Contributing Writer Contributor Contributing Writer

Face the Music

Instead, I find myself more concerned with my place in all of it, attempting to situate my past, present, and future comfortably into a sequence that doesn’t make me feel any worry, regret, anxiousness, or fear.

Read More
I Give You Nothing
Contributor, Fiction Contributing Writer Contributor, Fiction Contributing Writer

I Give You Nothing

She was America’s wet dream, white, blonde, and beautiful. Of course, these physical characteristics were used against her, primarily by those who had not achieved a fraction of what she had earned. Her accomplishments were never, according to these people, the fruits of her natural intellect and hard labor. Rather, they were the inevitable conclusion derived from the size of her breasts/ass/stomach, as well as a particularly nasty rumor that had been circulating since sophomore year concerning an alleged handjob she had given to Mr. Howley—the English teacher who organized these events—behind the bleachers in the old gymnasium.

Read More
Extinguished Light
Contributor, Fiction Contributing Writer Contributor, Fiction Contributing Writer

Extinguished Light

He broke into a piece of the earth with his shovel. The burial, he had decided, would take place in front of the farm. The surrounding soil was fertile enough, so the dig wouldn’t be too taxing, physically speaking. Halfway through, the father appeared to lose control of his basic motor skills. He dropped the shovel and immediately fell to his knees and began to dry-heave. The heaving gave way to a sudden and hostile appearance of vomit that expelled out of his mouth with a force that could only be described as audacious.

Read More
A Christmas Classic: The Day I Almost Died
Contributor Contributing Writer Contributor Contributing Writer

A Christmas Classic: The Day I Almost Died

The day I almost died…

The year was 2008 or something like that. We decided we wanted to be taken more seriously as performers. Our solution to this was to emulate the icon that was the ‘80s business master. We would wear suits every day and do lots of cocaine.

Read More
Las Vegas Tour Company
Contributor, Poetry Contributing Writer Contributor, Poetry Contributing Writer

Las Vegas Tour Company

on the corner
of Casino Center and Colorado with the studded thongs and the leashes around their slim necks and those high- waisted hot-pants hiked up to that sinched waist terrified by the possibility of beauty, while forgetting what
it might
be
...slowly
losing
life

Read More
I Was a Teenage Space Billionaire
Contributor, Poetry Contributing Writer Contributor, Poetry Contributing Writer

I Was a Teenage Space Billionaire

I built a city in the desert.
Lithium and plastic and dry cellulose.
Autonomous flying cars.
Drone-delivered impossible everything,
Nourishing our body-positive bodies.
Streaming, bingeable Obama-produced documentaries
In every remote classroom.

There was even a monorail.

Read More
Commitment
Contributor Contributing Writer Contributor Contributing Writer

Commitment

The next part I'm not really sure of. I don't know if she was trying to drug me...or if one of the local neck beards was trying to drug her.

Read More
One Act by a Dead Man
Contributor Guest User Contributor Guest User

One Act by a Dead Man

Amy: I’m sorry if I sent mixed signals, but I’m not attracted to you. You’re wasting your time and your feelings.

Peter: Feeling things isn’t a waste. Why must you continually divert all power to shields?

Amy: I’ve been hurt, so I protect myself. Isn’t that my right? The psychic in New York told me that I’ve probably been abused in several past lives, not just in this one…

Peter: I thought the psychic in Bucharest told you that?

Read More
We Killed Jason Todd
Contributor Contributing Writer Contributor Contributing Writer

We Killed Jason Todd

In 1988 my friends and I killed a kid.

He was just a boy really. We had help it wasn’t just me and my pals. there were adults involved, lots of them. I mean we were young we were just thirteen and really couldn’t comprehend the ramification of our actions, the adults knew what they were doing. I’m painting it to sound way more sinister than it was, and in today’s society, wouldn’t trend on Twitter but maybe in the ’80s, it was probably considered quite ominous.

Read More