The Unhinged Prince of Hollywood (…Or, How Will Smith Auditioned for the Brett Kavanaugh Biopic)
Smith displayed the most overused and exhausted Hollywood trope in real time in real life: toxic masculinity. Swooping in to defend the honor of his fair maiden. There was nothing valiant about it. Maybe Jada thought so, but the rest of the world didn’t. So maybe it’s best to keep their antiquated gender dynamics in their bedroom.
I Believe... [Bullies Always Gotta Punch the Little Guy]
I believe... that Chris Rock was the victim of assault and still held his poise. Will Smith was the much bigger kid hitting the class clown for making fun of his wife like any other garden variety bully. And the room gave him a standing ovation for it like the cheerleaders after the high school quarterback punches out the drama kid.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 20, 2022
The GOP sure does talk about pedophilia a lot. I talk about sailing a lot. Because I love to sail. So, you know… Maybe there’s some interest in kid-sex from the GOP.
American Jobs | Waiting Tables for the Son of Satan
"So what's the worst customer story you have?" I asked.
GOP Senators: Homicide
Hawley: If you had to choose between killing a pedophile, a rapist, or a baby, why would you choose the baby?
[Excerpt] Making an Impression at Club Med
The following is an excerpt from the latest book of essays by Erik Lewin, None of Your F*cking Business: 20 True Stories for My Amusement available here.
I Believe... [Cartman as Greek Prophecy]
...that South Park turned out to be the funny Cassandra prophesying our fate.
American Jobs—The Diamond Standard Station
For seven months before my freshman year in college, I worked at a gas station. Diamond Standard Station, proprietor, L. D. Diamond.
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.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 13, 2022
There is truth in stereotypes. Do your best not to be a stereotype.
I Like to Watch | Nostalgia Porn
As a GenXer, I've started to notice what can only be called Nostalgia Porn as it is the practice of taking cherished memories of movies and recreating them with the same actors playing the same roles with a fresher coat of technological paint.
A Letter from Uncle Sam
I’m the guy with the white hair and beard who dresses like he’s on his way to a Trump Rally.
Excerpt: My Kind of Corporal Punishment
The following is an excerpt from the book "Strippers, Guns, and The Holocaust Museum: OR: How I Survived My Time as a Chicago Public School Music Teacher"
I Believe... [Public Education, My Ass]
I believe... that you either give teachers appropriate compensation or authority in the classroom. One or the other. Take away both and you get completely unqualified babysitters searching on their phones while your kids become a modern version of the boys in Lord of the Flies but with TikTok.
Things Discovered Upon Quitting That Cushy Gig
The easy road is to accept that age is a prison. You become obsolete over time. Just resign yourself to that obsolescence and retire to a corner, whittling stick figures and rocking in that chair. I've never been one to take the easy path and I'm starting now.
The David Himmel Method for Getting Over Breakups
You’re going to be okay. You’re worth more than your broken heart has you believing. You’ll live to love again. Or you’ll live. And that’s enough. Because you are enough. Be it for yourself or someone else. Someone who won’t leave you in a puddle of misery the next time around. And if they do, you’ll be ready for it.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 6, 2022
There’s a cop who lives down the street from us. They fly a Blue Line American flag. This week, they swapped it out for a green American flag with one of the stripes replaced with four leaf clovers with the Ireland flag colors in them. So, not only does this officer of the law degrade the American flag by flying ones with manipulated colors, they’ve incorporated another country’s flag into our own. Patriotism is strange. But what should I expect from an Irish Chicago cop?
Evolution?
“I’m not happy with you two. You guys missed the target altogether! What you put together will soon destroy itself and now we have to start all over someplace else.”
You Don't Mess Around with Jim (after COVID and he has a gun now)
And you don't take a completely irrational population, after spending a few years in lockdown in fear of an invisible virus and prone to yelling at each other for either wearing or not wearing a cloth mask in a Sbarro, and give them unfettered access to the largest arsenal of personal weapons in history. It's just dumb. It's dangerous. It's catastrophic.
Darkness
“You alright?” asks the cop.
I try again. It’s harder and harder to breath. My chest.
“I can’t breathe. My sternum. It’s bursting out of my chest.” I lean on his car.
“Whoa there, fella, I just got it washed.”
“Please. Help me.”
The cop laughs. “Looks like you’re dying.” He stretches his arms back with a yawn, then straightens his hat. “Time for me go.”
“No.” Another gasp.
For Thanksgiving in 2012, I was single and Mom decided that I should come out to my step-sister's place in Branson, Missouri for a good old-fashioned country Thanksgiving. The carrot was family. The stick was Missouri.