Sometimes, when I read other writers, I feel small. Who am I to think I can do anything with my writing voice? I’m not classically trained. I didn’t go to a fancy college. I spent a good chunk of my life making terrible mistakes. Who the fuck am I to think I can do anything with this? Especially with so many other talented writers out there. It makes me think that maybe it’s time to consider a career in retail…
I was born in a crossfire hurricane. No I wasn’t. But I’ve always wanted to use that Rolling Stones line – and so I did for Good Men Project.
AT&T mobile is like a swimming pool in May, and its 3G coverage like little warm spots that come and go. Before you go any further, I don’t mean piss. But I see your point. What I mean are those floating oases of relief from the chill that you can’t predict or count on. That said, I just I just re-upped with the carrier through 2012 as part of my successful preorder of iPhone4. I pick it up June 24…
Last week I noticed a robin’s nest in a dogwood tree in our backyard. It’s only about seven feet off the ground and two robins vigilantly keep guard. The last few days we’ve had a series of nasty storms roll through in the blistering heat of the afternoon. One even toppled the dogwood next to the one with the nest. But still, the robins sat guard. And it made me think about birds. And how tough they are. Sure, they…
If you want to see how protests are done, check this quick video of Midnight Oil playing the Exxon building in Manhattan in 1990.
What if you could have dinner with any writer in history – how cool would that be? Who would you select? I can’t decide. Whitman’s probably too gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that – I just mean that he’s almost *too* connected to things around him. He’d observe a hawk and drone on about its connectedness to his loins. I’d feel like I was in a trance. Dickinson would be fascinating, but of course she’d become fatally distracted…
