Category Archive: better conversations

I’m glad the alt right is coming to San Francisco

The white supremacist, with his full grown body, stunted intellect, and all the moral development of pond algae thinks that he is oppressed. He feels his heritage, status, and very understanding of the… Continue reading

A Paris evening

A drunk woman is vaguely howling along with the Arabic music pumping from the radio she holds to her ear. The guys she with seem uninterested. African immigrants and refugees fill the shadows,… Continue reading

Living the dream

I had a dream when I was a kid. A literal, “I’m asleep” kind of dream, that is. This isn’t an inspirational post. In it, I’m swimming along the bottom of the pool,… Continue reading

I miss my friends

Well, the good news is, almost everybody got a job. I’m trying to focus on that. The woman in her early 40s with the big smile, and the shy younger woman (who swears… Continue reading

No taxation without consternation?

The amicable woman behind the desk swiped my credit card and with my $75 copay I received another view of the great fallacy of American capitalist propaganda. In Belgium’s universal healthcare system I… Continue reading

The Dutch oven of modern politics

It’s disappointingly easy to convince people that The Outsiders, the They, are responsible for all your troubles and are a threat to your safety. Terrifyingly reliable, century by century. So I watched this… Continue reading

I want more women in my pocket

The pulled pork sandwich was delicious, the bun warm on fingertips rubbed safe-cracking sensitive by a good night of rock climbing. Then the best part of these nights: sitting around a table with… Continue reading

How many lawyers does it take to change an Islamophobic lightbulb?

No. Today is too beautiful for what I wrote last night about the plotlines of a dystopian novel are running off the page and into the headlines. (When Homeland Security wants to require visitors… Continue reading

A gift from a fellow traveler

It was another vacation weekend. Sitting on the beach with two of my favorite people, my telephone far away, unchecked, the madness of the modern moment unimportant before the relentless majesty of an… Continue reading

My experience with refugees

Refugees don’t come to America for a handout. They don’t come to take anyone’s job. They come because they are like you and me.