Last month the high-flying poobas of the world donned their UNGA-wear and boarded private jets to attend the United Nations General Assembly. Oh! How they did clog the streets of Gotham in pursuit of... What exactly is it they pursued beyond a display of wealth and power? And now the UN---it's very name suggestive of nothingness, the opposite … Continue reading UN-der Woman
This story tells itself. A first grader gives his socks real personality. And attitude.
With an hour til tip-off, here's how my money rides. The number of times Trump does the following ten things: Sniffs the mic: 120+ Makes a tiny circle with his thumb and forefinger: 30+ References rigged elections: 20+ Notes Hillary's lies: 15+ Notes Hillary's corruption: 15+ Says "Crooked Hillary": 12+ Lauds his business smarts: 12+ … Continue reading Debate Predictions
Here I sit, brokenhearted Came to vote but only farted.* How the air is thickening! Oh, the stink is sickening! I have to choose between these two? I'm on the throne just let me poo! I'll never again vote absentee While squatting here, in luxury. Don's soft wipe will be mine soon That hair of his … Continue reading Absentee Ballot
Deep oppression pervades Brian Booker’s collection of seven stories Are You Here for What I’m Here For? (Bellevue Literary Press, 2016). The mood is confining, suffocating, maddening, the writing evocative of a heart pulsing beneath the floorboards of a cabin far from anywhere. Booker awakens---allays---awakens---allays---and awakens again profound tensions: Something is wrong. Everything is ok. But something is … Continue reading Short Stories from the School for Damaged Children
Memoir’s a tough genre. For memoir to appeal to a broad audience its got to succeed in one of two ways. Either the voice asserts some irresistible quality: rich, engaging, dynamic, inspiring, insightful without being pedantic. Or the narrative relates circumstances of an extraordinary nature: the subject is a half-Kenyan young lawyer who rises to … Continue reading Memoir: Set This Submarine on Fire
Yesterday a friend of mine posted our first-through-fourth grade photos online. Got me thinking about this old story in the hopper 20 years. I dragged it out and dusted it off and submit it now for your entertainment. It's all about that first cigarette. This is to the memory of those no longer with us, Trevor and … Continue reading Joe Camel, Still Cool