Fate's Power Animal
Ensconced meanwhile on all sides up the walls amassed a seismic epic fuckton of cultural memorabilia. Oversized indigenous masks carved from rare redwoods slung up beside deactivated German lugers and grenades of every issue. Microphones, pygmy skulls, framed tattooed pig skins, and shells of bass guitars that looked burnt. Lemmy is the high prince of a really metal tiki bar.
Hope Idiotic | Part 28
Each week they walked a few blocks to the therapist’s office. His name was Adam, and he specialized in couples. Adam was part of a practice of three other couples’ therapists who saw patients out of that location, and the waiting room was a revolving door of jilted lovers. The awkward efforts of the couples to not make eye contact with each other were exhausting ocular acrobatics. Lou missed the intimacy of Dr. Milner. The sessions were hour-long free-for-alls during which Michelle purged her frustrations with Lou’s faults. Among the faults: “Sometimes he’s too driven toward things that I just don’t understand.”
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting | My Emotional Support Alligator
Nick the Gator may not be fuzzy, but look at those eyes.
All Art is Political
But where, might you ask, is Art in all this. Well, if the concept of Politics precedes everything, guess what, Art, informs everything that politics and language created because 70,000 years ago, Homo sapiens developed an ability no other animal possesses, the ability to imagine that what which can not be seen. In other words, Imagination. If there is a dividing line between art and imagination, I’m hard pressed to find it.
Real Life Ghost Stories: Scary Sleepovers
Then Amanda began telling me a story unlike anything I’d heard before. The sincerity of the story, the lingering fear that lived her words, could only lead me to believe she was telling me the absolute truth.
I Believe… [Chaos Is Less Fun Than Revolution]
…that those who seek revolution would be wise to have some sort of vision of what will take the place of the system destroyed. Without that vision, the house burns down and chaos reigns. Sounds good until you have to face chaos.
Hope Idiotic | Part 27
It was hard explaining to Lexi why he hated going to Indiana so much. To her, Indiana was where her heart was. But she had a lovely family; one that got along and didn’t live in filth or rely on a broke, recovering alcoholic to support it. Chuck and Lexi were from the exact same place—grew up just two blocks away from one another—but they were from completely different worlds. She would never see Cayuga from his point of view, and he would never see it from hers, even if he wanted to.
Fifteen Years Later
I finally met my mildly reviled neighbor . . .
Reflections on My Year as a Windy City Empire Duchess
So I became Empress Kate’s Duchess for Empire 15 of the Imperial City Court of the Prairie State Empire, or Windy City Empire for short.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of November 24, 2019
We can’t predict the future. Therefore, we can’t predict how history will play out. We can, however, make informed estimates on how history will play out based on history itself. But that leaves a lot of room for a large margin of error. Squeeze that in among all of your certainty.
Hope Idiotic | Part 26
Chuck’s mother was sick again. A massive heart attack. She was in the I.C.U. for three days. Chuck arrived three days later. Neither his father, nor his brother thought to call him with the news that his mother was on the brink of death.
“She got home all right,” Darryl told Chuck over the phone.
“You people are unbelievable,” Chuck said. “I’m coming home.”
Thanksgiving: It’s All About Football and Farts, Bro
But Thanksgiving morning—oof. That’s the best. Since I was in third grade, every Thanksgiving morning, my childhood friends and I play seven-on-seven football. It’s the best. We freeze our nuts off at Willow Stream Park and all pretend we’re the next Tom Brady. You know, the Jewish one. Some of us don’t give a shit about the game and smoke doobies on the sideline, while others get overly competitive and call plays like the Annexation of Puerto Rico. We come home with chapped lips, bruised elbows, muddy clothes, and churning stomachs. Turkey Bowl is the most fun I have every November. Not because of the game itself, though, but because I get to see friends who’ve moved to San Francisco, San Diego, New York, Seattle, and even Beijing. Our annual game is my real Thanksgiving celebration—and I’m thankful for it.
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting | The War on Thanksgiving
I say we call it Thanksgetting.
You Know You Love White People Shit
You love Guy Fieri. You love Shark Tank. You love Nora Ephron. You love 5Ks. You love The Crown.
They’re Getting Rid of Time Out Rooms and Now There is No Legal Consequence for Dealing with Disruptive or Violent Students
I’m a bona fide Leftie with all my liberal merit badges but even I am aghast for teachers today. Without even the possibility of removing students from a room full of kids to calm them down or punish them with a bit of isolation from the very attention they so desperately crave, educators are fucked.
I Believe… [The Great Human Leveler]
…that without regard for political ideology, activist dogma, religious belief or sexual identity, we are all leveled human by the flu.
Hope Idiotic | Part 25
Lou shot straight up in bed. What did she just say? Am I drunk? Dreaming? Am I being punked? he thought. Lou could only recall one instance in their entire relationship—including their friendship before they dated—in which Michelle apologized outright like that. It was back in college, and it was for hardly anything worth apologizing. She got really drunk at a boyfriend’s frat house, fell in the pool, got into a fight with the boyfriend and called Lou for a rescue. They spent the night in his bed like a brother sharing space with his sister. The following morning she apologized with shame in her voice. This apology on the phone was something else entirely. And he needed to know more.
Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah: How to Square the Circle of Disney’s Past With Today’s Need For Revisionist Cleansing
“It may contain outdated cultural depictions.”
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of November 17, 2019
Political/social stridency is about as attractive a trait in a person as Jimmy Fallon fandom.
Muffled in German Luxury
It was noon and the streets were jammed with stylized fashionistas in hybrid SUVs driving their car-seated darlings who’d been born in our Taj Mahal Birthing Center to ballet, voice, or parent-toddler yoga.
Jake and Caroline’s first date was at The Whistler. They talked about Ronnie, how much they loved The Diplomat, and debated the better ride-share service, Uber or Lyft. She was Uber, he was Lyft. They got wasted on Sazeracs and had sex at her apartment. It was incredible for both of them. Caroline stopped taking sex advice from Ronnie.