In The Northern Liberated Provinces of Korea
Wu Ran-sang heard himself sigh. In this sigh, there were many feelings.
His heart and body hung between the sky and the dun ground along the northwest wall of the tallest building in Onsong. Nine stories. A recovered textile factory in the process of retrofit.
Ran-sang, an electrician of a singular talent, looked out at the view which the height afforded him. A warm mid-spring sun hung in a wide open sky of astonishing blue. The diamond pearls of the Tumen River glistened in their long band not too far off. This was now the Sapphire Coast and Onsong was in preparation to be a modest city of great culture and assimilation.
College Advice I Took (to My Dismay)
I just read an interesting opinion piece in the New York Times by Susan Shapiro entitled "College Advice I Wish I'd Taken" in their On-Campus section. I disagree with almost everything she wrote.
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting – Emergency White House Task Force Meeting
- “We’re hot!” said the president.
- “Because we are on fire.” Said Chief of Staff Kelly
The Estate Tax Forced my Family to Sell the Farm
The estate tax forced their sale. To my embarrassment, this event buttresses a specious Republican talking point. If you read my previous post about the Second Amendment, you'll know how I feel about context. It is everything. Knowing the context around the sale of this farm demonstrates why I whole-heatedly support the estate tax... and affirmative action.
The Scariest Movies of All Time (According to My 12-Year-Old Self)
I’m not much of a Halloween kind of guy. In fact, I don’t care for it at all. The costumes—meh. The parties are just another excuse for adults to get hammered and dress up in racially and sexually insensitive garb, writing it off as a spoof. The candy—well, I like the candy but I like candy anytime of the year.
But scary movies? I love 'em.
![I Believe... [The Monsters Are Us]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1508873330430-GKD1E66DBTZ54KSXNG6O/yorick_mask.jpg)
I Believe... [The Monsters Are Us]
...that if aliens came to Earth with any mission but total annihilation of the human race, 2017 would convince them otherwise.
We're All Going To Die!
If the experience of life has taught me anything, it has taught me that people like staying alive. Somewhere in the very essence of what it is to be alive is that special feeling that philosophers call “qualia of consciousness." Being alive feels like something. Here we are, inside our little meatboxes, looking out at all the other meatboxes and we know they’re feeling like they’re alive too. Most all of us like being alive. At the most primitive level, we hate that we won’t be alive at some point. The fear of not being alive anymore is huge. We don’t want to die.
A Neighborhood Story of Halloween Proportions
Just your average sweep thru the rural landscape to trick or treat on a night filled with the simplicity of finding room in your heart to call everywhere home.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Halloween Edition
• There’s nothing scarier than having your mom show up to your Halloween party dressed as a slutty caterpillar.
Until There's Only One
“After that, the people in my village believed the prisoner’s story, and everyone avoided the woods at all costs. And, if children were behaving especially badly, their parents would tell them the tale to punish them. And punishment surely comes.”
The nanny’s face was grim as she stared at the children. She rose from her chair and flicked off the light. In the kitchen, she poured a circle of salt around a chair at the table and rested there with her hands clasped in prayer.
Hagatha the Dog Witch
Hagatha, upon arriving in Chicago, had developed an allergy to cats. She tried Zyrtec, Claritin and Allegra, and all the potions and spells in her Witch Craft: Curses & Remedies book. Nothing helped. Her eyes watered, which made her face melt a little. Her nose ran constantly, and witch snot is essentially acid so she kept burning through her handkerchiefs and shirt sleeves. The only solution was to put her beloved cat, Gomez, whom she had had since she conjured him to life two centuries ago, up for adoption.
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting - Archangel Alliance
“Whaddup, motherfuckers? Don’t mind me. I’m not here. You go ahead and just do your thang. Your sweet, sweet thang. Seriously, Michael. Go on ahead. Ignore me. I’m cool.” — God
The Ease of Accusation and Biased Belief
This is likewise not to indicate innocence of predatory behaviors or to suggest that we should not give accusations of sexual misconduct and criminal behavior a full hearing. For most of recorded history, women and those in the minority have been systematically been disbelieved for no other reason than to protect a false hierarchy and thus demonize those accusers. Disbelief for reasons outside of the facts is just as erroneous and damaging as belief for the same reasons. Making the mistake of over-correction is still making the same mistake.
Escaping Hell
I had always wondered what the descent into hell is like. For the record, it was nothing like I had imagined. The drop was unknowing. It was innocent and comforting. I felt understood. The initial plunge into Satan’s lair was my first conversation with Frank.
![I Believe... [George W. is Enjoying the Trumpster Fire]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1508236878640-7DQL09PEJD0QXA6HRRC6/yorick2.jpg)
I Believe... [George W. is Enjoying the Trumpster Fire]
...that, if nothing else, at least the ineffectual pile of runny dogshit that is the Donald Trump presidency has managed to rehabilitate the image of poor, dimwitted George W.
Whitish Lives Matter | Literate Ape 2067
Dateline: Old Chicago, 2067
It’s been 25 years since that magic year of 2042 where, as predicted, whites were no longer the majority in the Reorganized States of America. Everything went as the social scientists predicted. Now, there are far more People of Color in the country. There are now far more People of Color in power throughout the country.
Gorski and The Goat
On a urine-stained olive green cot in the back room of Rosalda’s Cantina in Ciudad Juarez, I came to. Blacked out. Again. A smell I couldn’t quite put a finger on. Rank breath, a muffled gurgle and what felt like whiskers. I hope not our hostess, or worse, one of her chicas.
Make NOT Doing the Wrong Thing a Habit
"Me, too."
Following the explosive revelation of something everyone already knew about—the serial abuse upon countless women in Hollywood by Harvey Weinstein—the simple request online was for any woman who had experienced sexual harassment or assault to respond with “Me, too.”
The numbers of women who typed those two words was harrowing and maddening.
Most men online were either silent (that was my response) or typed in response “I believe you.”
Neither the declaration of contextless assault nor the insincere blanket belief is particularly helpful. It is the activism of the internet—looks good but generally doesn’t amount to much.
I was 13 years old in 1979. My mother had been married a couple of times by then and I had witnessed my first step-father, Dennis Coley, routinely beat my mother with his fists, with a belt, with a cast iron skillet. In terms of toxic masculine behavior, I had a front row seat to the freak show.
One would think that being audience to that would have an effect.
Notes from the Post-it Wall — Week of October 15, 2017
• My days go by so fast so often. That's a good thing because most of my days suck.
Deconstruction Of a Pledge
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America...
How do you want to be defined? By one action? By some opinion that could evolve? By a mistake, regrettable only with hindsight? Or by the sum of your parts? Okay, do that for other people. Start the trend.