Once, while waiting to sit down for dinner at a local bistro, I realized something unprecedented had happened: I forgot to bring a book. As I dine alone whenever I dine out, this is a relatively serious problem. In the pre-smartphone era, I didn’t have the option of fiddling with a clever cellular app. I . . . → Read More: Check, Please!
Check this out: How Dare a Museum Offer an Eclectic Selection of Art?!
Asked in the article is this question: “If it’s wrong for the government to take the taxpayers’ money to promote religion, why is it OK to take taxpayers’ money to assault religion?”
I’m going to sit down with all the folks . . . → Read More: “It’s a Bad Week for Rationalism,” or “Why I’m an Antitheist”
“Professor X is tired of hearing people say the reason so many children enrolled in city schools across the nation are failing is because the teachers are bad.”
Prompted by this professor friend’s Facebook post, I considered this morning a number of reasons that the American education system—in which I will very likely some day . . . → Read More: The Disengaged Have Disengaged the Engaged
“Inappropriate salutation! Excitation! Homo- erotic gesticulation—red wash of shame. Giggle, giggle, snort. Jovial little jibe; allusion to an ex-lover’s diatribe.”
“Emasculating assault—chortle— playful slap upon the cheek. Malapropism; mispunctuation evident even in speech. A round- assed passerby’s objectification! (Phew: at last, distraction.)”
“High five—chuckle, stutter! Braggadocio and rodomontade! Stutter, stammer, profanity— profanity! A masturbatory mouthful . . . → Read More: Eavesdropping on Suburban Whites
God grant us the liberty to consume, defile, and fuck, fuck, fuck; treble in size, then consume what’s left. God grant us our right to leave the kids babysat by TV. Cede the FCC eight bucks an hour and two Cokes from the brand new fridge.
Praise be to aetataureate excess of every single sort. . . . → Read More: Fourth of July
Angie’s seen him adjust himself two times today; he doesn’t want to risk a third. Of all people, she would file a complaint. Garrett takes little steps, scampers into the furthest aisle between 1990 and the brick wall. There, he reaches down to fix himself again.
He pinches the bottom edge of the fabric between . . . → Read More: Contretemps
It could have been happening for days by the time he noticed. Happening for days before anyone like him, anyone in his situation, would ever have noticed.
By his mid-twenties he wasn’t fooling anyone with a comb-over, a comb-forward. His wife told him so. He bought an old electric razor at a yard sale, began . . . → Read More: Malady