The Price of a Gun
What sets the Baldwin case apart is that not only he, the shooter, is being charged but both his armorer and the guy who handed him the gun are being held to pay
The Select Subcommittee Committee on the Weaponization of the Federal Government
The committee will be led by Rep. Jim Jordan from Ohio who knows a thing or two about suppressing voices.
The Bizarre Inflation of Crises Via Platform
Respectively, each of these horrors of the modern world can be found on: CNN, MSNBC, FOX, Faceborg, Twitter, TikTok, and a coupla podcasts. Each platform seems to prioritize a different threat to us all but none of them are what I’d call big issues.
I Believe... [Did You Really Live Your Experience?]
I believe... that the difference between experience and lived experience is the shift from that which all people have to branding for perceived authority.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 16, 2023
Setting up a new computer has a way of opening your eyes to new ways of thinking. Or, or… and hear me out… you can just put the same settings in place and keep on trucking the way you have been.
I Like to Watch | TÁR
The discovery of my years is that when you refuse to take sides in a dispute that has little to do with you, you present a litmus test for those with perceived skin in the game unintended.
I Spell Republican W-I-N-N-E-R Because I Don’t Know How To Spell
Not sure how I officially change from Dem to Republican other than to disable spelcheck.
The Critic's Choice
It is a fool’s game to attempt to interpret the work—any work— of an artist. Because there is no interpretation. Nothing to be interpreted. The intended meaning is just that—an absolute. The thing you see or hear before you is what the creator intended it to be. Even if that intention was to be ambiguous.
I Believe... ['Spare' Me]
I believe... that Prince Harry is merely an avatar for an entire cohort clamoring to declare “See? I’m a victim, too! Look over here! I’m truly traumatized! Follow me on my platforms.”
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 8, 2023
Jesus… the week of Elvis Presley’s birthday and his daughter, Lisa Marie, dies. The Universe doesn’t care about us, but sometimes, it feels that it does. And it feels like it’s a wry practical joker.
The Overdue but Perfect Response to the Outrage of the Minority
Disrespectful outcry will never, ever affect our actions.
Man Fights For Right to Marry Fictional Character
I’m open to different species, too. A big slug-like Hutt would be really interesting.
Controlling Anxiety is All About Perspective
I get the anxiety some now. Not in any 'deer in the headlights' sort of way but a low-grade mumble in the back of my every interaction that asks Are you sure this isn't bullshit?
I Believe... [TikTok Illness]
...that when being austistic is somehow considered a thing of pride rather than affliction, TikTok has gone too far.
The Privilege of Understanding Self-Loathing
I’m starting to think self-loathing, like braces, doesn’t look as cute the older you get. That’s because as you get older—ideally, anyway—you find your station, your purpose. You’ve pruned back the dead branches and settled nicely into the garden you’ve made for yourself. It could be a job, a family, friends, hobbies, passions. You’ve been at this for half your life, you’ve orchestrated all of this, and you don’t hate it. Some of it you actually enjoy. So, why all the self-loathing?
I Like to Watch | Babylon (2022)
It's rare to meet a genius.
The term is overused like hero or trauma or dangerous. To meet a bona fide groundbreaker, a genius in his own right, someone who created something that history has dictated is important scientifically or culturally, is rare.
McCarthy Declares Victory, Claims Votes Rigged
McCarthy has asked representatives from Georgia to find him just 20 more votes.
I Believe... [AI Hypocrisy]
...that design artists up in arms about the AI art programs need to check their Spotify and BandCamp app libraries.
The Last Roll of the Dice Not Taken
There is that hope with feathers but my hope looks a bit like a scraggly chicken, one eye pecked out and a mangy rash on its neck, desperately foraging for seed amongst the rubble.
The Wonder of the New Year
I wonder how love will bloom this New Year’s Eve. I wonder what kind of chaos will ensnarl itself in this year’s revelries. The hours leading up to the countdown and those first few fleshy pink hours of 2023 are critical. Critical in our human minds, anyway—Time and Space cannot care. And I wonder which way those hours will go and for whom and what it will eventually mean.
Her fury, her hurt, her fear and shame was pure focus. She dug deeper into her legs. The blood began to run down her thighs, soaking through her dress and forming a small puddle in the pew.