Er, sorry. That’s a bad, bad title. I’ll try again? Dear Apple. Dear Apple, I hope you’re well. Congratulations on slobbering all over my tech experience in the best of ways. For years, I’ve chosen your products. I’ve purchased your stock. I’ve even crossed my fingers that the people who manufactured my products are not so horribly treated as is sometimes reported. Crossed my fingers, of course, because what else could I do? Not buy an Apple product? They’re so much prettier and so much smarter and so much easier to accept as my second, third, supplementary brain. In...
Posts Tagged ‘ New York Times ’
Exercise #2 and America. Fuck yeah.
What happened to Exercise #1, you might ask. Yes, well. You’re right. Traditionally one comes before two so first would come first. But I won’t be bullied by sequence. I’m no numbers person. What the hell do they mean anyway? As anyone confounded by Dobris’s property lectures, first in time doesn’t have to be first in right. Or maybe it does. While I got a B in the class, Dobris and I have come to an understanding that we each deserve As for all other mutual endeavors. He writes very funny emails. Presently (thanks in large part to Dobris),...
How did we get here?
Trivial things first: big storm coming in. The newspaper anticipates it like it’s an imminent act of terrorism. “Weather bomb” says the headline. Please check in later to see how we go. Now on to more pressing matters: I ask you, what the fuck is up with the excessively uncomfortable prurience of America these days? Not that we’ve ever settled in with the itch. It would be so nice to be French or Italian and to recognize that most people behave… you know… like humans in the bedroom (or even… dare I say… other rooms). But no. We were...
Three things
1. Almost every morning, as I take my dog Dot to her personal Arcadia/shit spot, I pass a portly man lugging a bucket of rocks on a luggage cart. He wears his pants high on his stomach and keeps his sweater tucked in. He never meets my eyes though I tried for several months until I stumbled upon him at one end of the beach taking a dump. Just like Dot! It IS a magical spot. On clear days, the early morning sun floods the bay so the light could be skimmed off the gold-tipped chop. On more mercurial...
My Mission.
I’m going to cut 16,010 words out of my 166,000 word book. Fuck, that’s a lot of words. I don’t know where all these words came from and I’m not sure where they’ll go when I send them away but it’s not my concern. I’m sure it’s good and right to pare this beast back– to rip it of a little pelt, I guess. I’d like to see the smooth, pink skin that remains. So far, 5000 words have been set free. Fly, useless words. You did nothing for me, in the end. Another thing: how the hell did...
Here’s something we can (should) all agree on…
Hey! It’s foul times in politics, eh? And of course, because I’m American (though non-resident), when I say politics, I mean the dog pile comprised of egomaniacal American dipshits who somehow forget that they are supposed to be masquerading as representatives of the American people. I’m loyal like that. It’s one helluva stinky dog pile these days. The National Defense Authorization Act for Fiscal Year 2012 was signed by President Obama a few days ago. Nothing too surprising in that it’s a bill designed to provide for the military and the national security interests– think Pentagon, troops, military infrastructure....
You said what now?