Archive For June 13, 2022
One lives in the hope of becoming a memory. – Antonio Porchia Pardon me if I ramble a bit. Even more than usual, I mean. All my life, people have been asking me, what the hell do you do all day? Happened again and as bad as my memory might be, I thought, I’ve been here…
Don’t be so overly dramatic about it, Chuck. You’re saying it’s a falsehood, and they’re giving — our press secretary, Sean Spicer, gave alternative facts to that. – Kellyanne Conway The flags started going up more than a couple of years ago and I did not like it. Even if I agreed with the ideology,…
It was all so very businesslike that one watched it fascinated. It was pork-making by machinery, pork-making by applied mathematics. And yet somehow the most matter-of-fact person could not help thinking of the hogs; they were so innocent, they came so very trustingly; and they were so very human in their protests – and so…
The past is what you remember, convince yourself you remember, or pretend you remember. – Harold Pinter This seems a good time for a flashback in case your memory, like most Americans, has gotten hazy. Remember Auqilino Gonell, the U.S. Capitol sergeant who testified about the attack on January 6? “My fellow officers and I were…
A delusion is a false fixed belief that is not amenable to change in light of conflicting evidence. As a pathology, it is distinct from a belief based on false or incomplete information, confabulation, dogma, illusion, hallucination, or some other misleading effects of perception, as individuals with those beliefs are able to change or readjust…
Childhood is that state which ends the moment a puddle is first viewed as an obstacle instead of an opportunity. – Michael K. Williams Imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, ‘This is an interesting world I find myself in — an interesting hole I find myself in — fits me rather neatly, doesn’t…
Once you decide you are an artist – and mean it – the rest falls away like the clothes of a lover. – Barker Ajax The nerve of some people. Just because he says he’s my doctor. He asked me a question I often ask myself, why do you write? Good question. That’s why…
They were no longer travellers without baggage. They were no longer twenty. They’d both been around the block a bit and had suffered without the other. They’d both lost their way without the other. Each had tried to find love with other people. But all that was now finished. – Guillaume Musso, Que serais-je sans toi?…