The word seminar always sends shivers up my back, hearkening to mind the countless times multi-level marketers have used the term to somehow legitimize their cultish gatherings around Power Point presentations.
In Search of Summer School
I'll admit it. I'm one of those people who has a tendency to overthink things, argue for and against a point or an objective until I'm purple in the face.
Apocalyptic Optimists
Don't you just hate it when you can't successfully trace the genealogy of a particular quote, one that's been bangin' around inside your head?
Galactic Mocha
You know how some movies are purportedly historical? Inspired by actual events is the tagline I'm recalling. Well, consider this post basically the same. These things actually happened, but I'm going to take liberties with the prose to make it more readable, more blog worthy, if you will.
Read The Damn Article
I was once returning home from a day trip to Sydney, BC, when I passed the billboard for a local used-car dealership. "Sometimes when following the masses, the 'M' is silent," it declared, suggesting that conformism in certain cases equals idiocy.
Florescence
It's been a while since my last post. In retrospect, I look back upon it as being of somewhat dubious literary value, something more akin to what the British might call a quota-quickie; a literal means to an end.
Into LA
I'm tired by the time the wings begin to deform, flaps extending, the engines perspiring columns of heat that warp the image of the earth below, lending a diorama like perspective on the office towers clawing into the sky. I can see bodegas, corner stores, tennis courts, all rushing up to see me.
I Forgot My Comeback
In the automotive industry, there's a term that describes the action of veering adrift when encountering uneven surfaces: bump-steer. It seems to describe my life at the minute.
Ten-Sixteen
I vowed this year would be my best, but instead it had been godawful, just terrible, maybe the worst since my brother up and died on me, in that cold ward at the Kaiser Permanente, six years before.
Winter and Serge
For a while now, the weather report had suggested things were going to warm up, to thaw. The winter had dragged on hesitantly, and although the skies had recently given way to brighter shades of blue, the temperatures had taken a plunge deeper, like the season had gained sentience and dug in claws made of ice.
