Stories, Meat Sacks and Pagliacci Suspenders

Stories, Meat Sacks and Pagliacci Suspenders

“What's wrong with death sir? What are we so mortally afraid of? Why can't we treat death with a certain amount of humanity and dignity, and decency, and God forbid, maybe even humor. Death is not the enemy gentlemen. If we're going to fight a disease, let's fight one of the most terrible diseases of all, indifference.” -Patch Adams * * * I used to have a really cool pair of suspenders. I wore them whenever I had the chance and along with my Wonder Woman Underoos, they were probably one of the most special items in my wardrobe. Maybe, if you were a kid in the late 70s, you had the same pair. If you did have a pair, or even if you didn't, you probably knew why some of those weird kids were into rocking the rainbow suspenders. Because Mork rocked the rainbow suspenders. And Mork was awesome. In 1982, the year that Mork and Mindy came to an end, my mother and...
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Hey, Mourning Famous People is Totally Okay

Hey, Mourning Famous People is Totally Okay

Somewhere in 1986, there's a younger version of me. A version of me with skinny legs, knobby knees and no realistic sense of the future or adulthood. That version of me sits in her room, reading books and staring at the posters on the walls, of which there are many, daydreaming and imagining the future she wants. Like a lot 13 year-olds, she has mad crushes on golden movie star faces. River Phoenix was my dream guy. I watched Stand By Me and fell in love. I got older. He got older. I kept watching. When I saw him as a young Indiana Jones in The Last Crusade, I got so geeked out and giddy, I thought I might swallow my fucking tongue. Somewhere in 1993, there's a 20 year-old version of me sitting in a sparsely furnished apartment. The couch stinks and is covered in stains. The bathroom ceiling is black with rot and mold; pieces of it fall into the...
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Survival is Triumph Enough

Survival is Triumph Enough

  “Being a fiction writer is a good way to go crazy, it’s a good way to be a nervous wreck, it’s a good way to become a drunk. You continually pick at yourself, the little sores that you have. They scab over and you pick them open again. Other people not only let them scab over, they let them scar over. They leave it alone. Writers don’t do that. They can’t keep their fingers out of the sore. They’ve got to keep it bleeding. And it’s off that blood that they make their stuff.”  -Harry Crews     "You have to go to considerable trouble to live differently from the way the world wants you to live. That's what I've discovered about writing. The world doesn't want you to do a damn thing. If you wait till you got time to write a novel or time to write a story or time to read the hundred thousands of books you should have already...
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There Is Nothing More

There Is Nothing More

“Do I fear death? No, I am not afraid of being dead because there's nothing to be afraid of, I won't know it. I fear dying, of dying I feel a sense of waste about it and I fear a sordid death, where I am incapacitated or imbecilic at the end which isn't something to be afraid of, it's something to be terrified of.” "The only position that leaves me with no cognitive dissonance is atheism. It is not a creed. Death is certain, replacing both the siren-song of Paradise and the dread of Hell. Life on this earth, with all its mystery and beauty and pain, is then to be lived far more intensely: we stumble and get up, we are sad, confident, insecure, feel loneliness and joy and love. There is nothing more; but I want nothing more." "So far, I have decided to take whatever my disease can throw at me, and to stay combative even while taking the...
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Cruel Summer

Cruel Summer

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." -John Lennon * * * "This is going to be the best year EVER," Olivier said, holding up his pinky finger. "Hell yes," I said. "This is going to be OUR year."  I wrapped my little finger around his and we sealed our pact.  We had just returned from our turbulent holiday adventure in the U.S. and were only a couple of weeks into the new year. He patted me on the leg. "2010 is going to be awesome." "Fuckin' A right," I said. So it was decided, then. We had endured some stress last year. Nothing that we couldn't handle. Most of it was the usual shit that everyone else gets stressed about. Sure, at the end of the year, there was travel & holiday stress coupled with some family drama, but... no biggie. Next year would be better. It would be OUR year. Much like George Costanza, when he triumphantly declared, "This will be...
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