‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. “Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!” He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time …
It’s time to reinstate the draft. Not the traditional one, where we send kids to die in the name of suchandsuch in the middle of Whogivesafuckistan. Instead, the draft needs to reverse polarities; people would be drafted into political office. Think about it. You would decimate PACs, which should be as illegal as yellow-cake uranium. …
Aside from mom and sis, there’s little I miss about the East Coast since leaving there 15 years ago. Space and free time are as rare as plutonium. There’s a palpable tension and gruffness. East Coasters love to bitch about how out of touch California is with real Americans. But I defy anyone to …
It’s been a rough year for Breaking Bad junkies. First, we had to go cold turkey when the finest drama on television concluded its remarkable run. Then Aaron Paul starred in the abysmal Need for Speed. Bryan Cranston took a forgettable role in Godzilla (though he redeems himself playing a legendary screenwriter in Trumbo). And we …
On all grounds, legal and ethical, I should have been murdered for the Rubber Baby Joke. The Rubber Baby Joke was borne of a documentary I saw as a kid on sharks. The show said that shark skeletons are made of cartilage, the sinewy gristle that comprises our noses and ears. Human baby bones, …
Hey bro, It’s been too long since I’ve written you, but not a day’s length since I’ve thought of you. I can’t imagine you’d tolerate any place without Wifi, but, just in case reception is spotty, a quick update: I thought of you this weekend, kickoff of the NFL season. Why did we know …
Dedicated to K. Vonngut (11/11/22-04/11/07) So I’m sitting on the shower stall floor. Again. Hot water seems the only failsafe when nausea has me in Her viselike grip. But She hadn’t yet let go. So I sat and listened to music and looked at my toilet. I doubt I would have given it much …
O Me! O Life! Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring, Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish, Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the …
Perhaps because I’ve felt as if I’ve finished a couple, but my eyes have been drawn to marathons of late. Maybe it’s that irritating commercial from Marathon Oil, whose new jingle implores you to “put a tankful of freedom” in your guzzler. (Does that make the Prius the official vehicle of the Socialist Marxist Party?). …
The Hollywood Bowles 