Revisiting the Saddest Thing to Ever Happen to You 15 Years Later
We shared the same boiling passion for knowledge, action, adventure, living life hard, fast, and for the sake of the story. We also shared a boiling disgust for hypocrisy, hubris, mean-spiritedness, and, at times, for ourselves. We were constantly brawling with the crazed beasts living within our psyches and our guts. We came from very different places with very different experiences, but when we arrived to one another, we found that we’d been forged in the same style and together, we’d have to do better personally, professionally, and in a way that could leave the world a better place.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of October 16, 2023
When you stop missing the dead, that’s when their life loses meaning.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of April 23, 2023
“I just have so many acid stories,” is my favorite thing I heard this week.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 5, 2023
When we almost die, we “cheat death.” It can also be said that when we die, we’ve “cheated life.”
Santa's Gift
Ricky stood in the snow with one sneaker untied and his backpack hanging far too low on his back. His breath misted in the frigid December air. He shook, but not from the cold. His mother taught him to layer up, making it almost impossible to catch a chill.
No, his shivers were from fear. A fear he had every year. But this year was going to be different.
![[From the Archives] Required Watching: Mr. Death: The Rise and Fall of Fred A. Leuchter, Jr. (1999)](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1535416790796-Q21IJGI223JBESLOLIHU/Mr+Death+movie+poster.jpg)
[From the Archives] Required Watching: Mr. Death: The Rise and Fall of Fred A. Leuchter, Jr. (1999)
Time for another installment of Required Watching where we knock you out of your comfortable routine of TV and movies to show you a documentary that's weird for the sole purpose of making you a better person. Knowledge is power.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of August 14, 2022
The older kid is heading off to pre-k in Chicago Public Schools next week. So here we are… I’m handing off my child to one of the most dysfunctional government organizations in our dumb nation. I can’t help but feel like a terrible parent.
The House on Deer Creek Road: Part 6
The final horrors await you just inside the door…
Running from Grief
There’s an odd disconnect between dealing with legitimate grief and typing “budget cremation wichita” into the search bar.
The Fourth Meeting With Death
Death liked Nelson, but Nelson wasn’t exactly sure why. Perhaps because they’d spent a lot of time together. At their last meeting, Nelson asked Death how he was able to remember their meetings. He’d done weeks of research, trying to find others who claimed they’d met Death. He had only found whackos.
The Conundrum of Age: As Times Passes, Our Fellow Passengers Disembark
We tend to take it for granted that living a long life is an inherently good thing. A desirable outcome to living is to live as many years as we can get.
Santa's Gift
Ricky stood in the snow with one sneaker untied and his backpack hanging far too low on his back. His breath misted in the frigid December air. He shook, but not from the cold. His mother taught him to layer up, making it almost impossible to catch a chill.
No, his shivers were from fear. A fear he had every year. But this year was going to be different.
Hope Idiotic | Part 29
A week later, Pop was in the hospital. Benjamin called Lou that morning and told him. Lou drove out that afternoon. Benjamin, Grams and Aunt Elise were sitting around Pop, who was lying in the bed. The room was full of forced casual conversation. Dr. Caplan, Pop’s doctor, came in. He was the son of a close childhood friend of Pop’s who was also a doctor, but had retired from practicing medicine a few years ago. The younger Caplan inherited many of his dad’s patients, including Abraham Bergman, who used to give him rides to school.
“Here’s the deal, Abe,” Dr. Caplan said as he tossed Pop’s chart on the foot of the bed. “There’s cancer in your leg. A lot of cancer. It’s bad.”
Losing a Best Friend 10 Years Later — Remembering Mike Zigler
On Friday, October 16, 2009, one of my best friends, Mike Zigler, died.
It was a stupid death. One that was completely avoidable if Zigler hadn’t been the man he was, and maybe, if I hadn’t left Las Vegas two years before to continue my life in Chicago. When people ask me how he died I joke and say, “With his hands at two and ten” — the textbook instruction on where a driver should place their hands on the steering wheel. Zigler died in his car, in the garage of my Las Vegas house, which he was renting from me.
The Earth is Flat and Not Everyone Dies
Yes, lots of people have died. But we can’t say for certain that everyone dies because everyone hasn’t died. If someone lives long enough they could live forever.
People dying is just a tool of Big Death.
Almost Had to Say Goodbye
I had been writing a piece for Literate Ape about how New Years resolutions are complete bullshit and my utter disdain for making promises to oneself that one will just forget in a month or so. But I tossed it. In the light of recent events, the piece is tacky and negative. I don’t care about much right now except my mom making it through surgery and my dad keeping it together.
The Passing of the Hat: A Halloween Story
The harvest moon hangs heavy in the velvet embrace of the sky. Near the curled shoes of Bella Baker, a toad jumps into taller grass. The song of crickets rises and falls. The crisp air of Samhain finds all exposed flesh and gives it a little nip, just enough to remember that one is alive.
Required Watching: Mr. Death: The Rise and Fall of Fred A. Leuchter, Jr. (1999)
Time for another installment of Required Watching where we knock you out of your comfortable routine of TV and movies to show you a documentary that's weird for the sole purpose of making you a better person. Knowledge is power.
I Wouldn't Give a Shit if Mark Died
Hi. I’m Bob. Mark was my big brother, and I distinctly remember realizing one day that I wouldn’t give a shit if Mark died.
Just Hoping My Boss Doesn't See This One
Her eyes popped, her arms flapped and flailed like a person drowning. She was staring at me as her tongue began to bulge from between her lips, pleading with her eyes for rescue. All the while, making the worst grunting screams I’d ever heard.
The concept of the New Year’s resolution is as American as apple pie and arterial blockages—a ritualistic spectacle of good intentions dressed up in cheap tinsel and wishful thinking.