It had been a rough week for Angie Everglade. Monday’s job interview disaster with some young pup who seemed to equate rich life experience with imminent dementia. Wednesday’s OkCupid date with a man so full of himself she feared he might actually burst, splattering her new outfit with his ruptured innards. And now lab work that suggested a new incurable malady of which she already enjoyed several. After having a ripshit tantrum in the privacy of her own apartment, Angie pulled herself together. Read the rest of this story »
so long and varied as to comprise a statistical impossibility
I cling to the tenuous hope that
my life cannot get worse
then my computer crashes
and I am plunged headlong into a canyon of despair
deep and unfathomable as string theory
landing with an inelegant splat, I am an upended bug
flailing fruitlessly and beset
by larger insects who gnaw greedily on my exposed viscera
there is no point trying to resurrect this heap
rogue elements in my brain disagree
they concoct an army of lively
drum-beating, cymbal clashing, sword wielding
cruel thoughts in crimson uniforms, shiny gold buttons
Very insistent that I obey
that I worry my ass into a perma-pucker
about everything else that can possibly go wrong
when did I last back up?
how many poetic gems did I lose?
how long will it take to reconstruct my digital life? Read the rest of this poem »
I don’t trust anything that I look forward to too much. And topping that list is the double-edged sword of prestige television. For over half a century, critics have railed against what we used to call the “boob tube,” usually objecting on moral or political grounds.
If they knew dopamine like I know dopamine, they could have made a stronger case.
I’m neither a Puritan nor a Luddite. I’ve thrilled to the Emmy-winning dramas of television’s new Golden Age. And like so many others, I fell victim to what TV critic James Poniewozik calls “The Suck“: “that narcotic, tidal feeling of getting drawn into a show and letting it wash over you for hours.” But after spending too many precious hours with my neo-cortex on hold, I had to reassess my priorities. Continue reading.