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Audibles

Monday, January 6, 2025

I had plans for this morning, plans I’ve managed to turn into something like a habit over the last few years. Part of those plans was to take a walk. Except that it’s in the low 20s with a windchill that puts it closer to 3 degrees. Not walking in that. So I called an audible: updated some things in the writing workflow, found somewhere to put the boxes Amazon keeps sending for some reason, and moved some furniture to accommodate my new life as a treadmill desk user.

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Monday, January 6, 2025 →

Today’s 1000 words:

Four years ago today - Their Führer is going to pardon them all in a couple of weeks.

He Is Risen

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

I went to bed early last night, hopeful. As a A Man Of A Certain Age, that’s not terribly unusual, and with the time change, I’m following the majority of voters in this country into the 19th century, except I’m just ready to go to sleep when the sun goes down, and they’re ready it to be 1859, or whenever they think this country was last great. My own Wayback Machine is taking me to 2016 and another November in a country where the isolationist policies of the last Trump administration led directly to its precipitous downfall, albeit with extensive help from every other American president that fomented the multi-decade debacle that was Afghanistan.

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The system didn't fail Brendan Depa

Monday, May 6, 2024

We hear it all the time. The system doesn’t work right. The system’s broken. The system failed. Those are comforting words. Words designed to instill belief that something is in place. That if we just tweak it enough, it will save us. The problem is that systems don’t break. They don’t fail. They work right. All the time. Because systems are designed, as it’s been explained to me, “to depress, oppress, and repress”.

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I, Lazarus

Saturday, April 27, 2024

Hi. Lazarus here. Of Bethany? Yeah, that Lazarus. Had a couple of sisters, Mary and Martha. Fun fact: I’m the only one mentioned by name in a parable. So that’s cool. Not sure why Jesus cast me as a beggar, but you know, He is the Son of God, so. I guess He gets to do that. Figured it was time to clear up some things about what happened. I mean, I died.

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They have the meats

Saturday, April 20, 2024

Hansen tried to forget the last time he’d been in an Arby’s. The memory was nearly there with the first bite of the roast beef sandwich, got closer after the curly fries, then swam into full focus when he took a sip of the Jamocha shake. It was after the Murray thing. Murray was one of the good ones. Hansen had always thought so. Then Clark played them the tape.

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How to talk to your 10 year old about consent

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Editor’s Note: I’m in the process of pulling in things I’ve written before, figuring out where it fits into the current site, and this was something I did back in April when Arizona was wanting to party like it was 1864 with an abortion ban. I’ve debated posting this for a couple reasons: As of September, that ban has been repealedA reluctance to wade into topics like women’s rightsHowever, it’s pretty indicative of my personal beliefs, my editorial tone, and it’s time I stopped sanitizing what I put out under my own name because I’m worried what people will think.

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In defense of day drinking

Saturday, April 13, 2024

In retrospect, the second grenade was overkill. He had said that he wanted it to be loud, make a point, let the neighbors know that something needed to be done, but she didn’t need both grenades for that. It was just a trailer, after all, and considering what was inside it, she could have gotten the job done with a couple of highway flares. But Charlotte was never one for half measures.

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Selling Kabul

Saturday, April 6, 2024

Rasul took another sip of tea, looking at the picture the tall American had slid across the table. There were two of them sitting across from Rasul in the lobby of the Islamabad Serena. Not that they’d asked, but Rasul liked the Kabul Serena better. It had been almost a year since he’d last been there. Avoiding the Taliban and their guests, he told himself. Nothing to do with being a real estate agent in a city turned ghost town, haunted by dead dreams and fading memories.

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They're coming for our calendars

Saturday, March 16, 2024

As the smoke clears after the fire that engulfed actress/model/eyebrow goals Cara Delevigne’s home last week, some things are apparent: Her cats are fineShe’s not wrong about ball pitsThe robots are coming for your calendarsI’m copping to a pop culture reference to make a point about society, because now that Buzzfeed News has gone the way of the dodo, the pet rock and the Hula Burger, there’s that critical gap between finding out whether you’re the couch in Central Perk or the one by the fountain in Friends and I aim to fill it.

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A love letter to Love's

Tuesday, January 16, 2024

As a Texas resident, I know the Buc-ee’s. I’m in awe in much the same way I’m in awe of strip mining equipment: I’m impressed by the engineering, a little sad that this exists. Because it’s the near-complete enshittification of the American road trip, taking what was once adventure winding through towns and cities that has been devoid of character and color ever since they finished the interstates. Don’t get me wrong: if the option is a Buc-ee’s, I’m taking it.

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