1. Outside my window there is a shaft of sunlight streaking across the fence. The fence is dark brown, a color that hasn't been popular since the 1970s, and the local paint store keeps a formula in the notebook just for our condo association to paint the fences and trim. They call the color "Westwood… Continue reading What am I doing Here?
Quercus nigra There is a tree in the small stand of forest where I take my lunch at work. It has grown from two woody solitudes, twisted in convergent forms like twins battling for supremacy of the same body. One of the twins has emerged triumphant since the plant took root, standing tall--as tall as… Continue reading Water Oak
A large Diet Coke and a medium fry. It is the second day of January and I am on the 5th day of a “vegan cleanse.” I’m not quite sure of what I am cleansing myself. I agreed to the cleanse because it felt, somehow, like cleansing myself of the worst parts of American capitalism.… Continue reading McDonald’s: Communion
Not long after the guns of the Civil War fell cold in the 1860s, John Muir opened a notebook and inscribed his name on the frontispiece. “John Muir, Earth-Planet, Universe,” he wrote, situating himself as firmly as any of us may hope to do so. And then he started walking, a thousand miles or so,… Continue reading Muir’s Notebooks: Thinking and Working in the Age of Distraction
Well, it’s all over now save for the thinking. Of course, what is anything but thinking? Walking, eating, even breathing, are just thinking in motion. Travel is no different. The sights, sounds, smells, and feelings we seek by traveling are, at bottom, just another way of thinking through the world. The trip I’ve been thinking… Continue reading Chicago in the Rear-View
There’s a problem with the universe. Some people here in my hometown feel that way because the Seminoles are losing football games, but I’m talking about the real universe, the one out there. Right now, scientists who study the universe are puzzling over the answer to a simple equation, Ho=v/d. This equation has been with… Continue reading Willie Taggart and the Hubble Constant Tension
I spent a series of cold, foggy mornings when I was a young man of about twenty-one working at a door shop in Jacksonville reading On The Road on my way to work. It was my second time reading the book, but the first time I really got what Kerouac was trying to do. I… Continue reading Books and the Geology of the Soul
It didn't take an advanced degree in the humanities for me to realize that punk rock is a crock of shit. Just a sprained ankle. It wasn't sour grapes, either, but dedication that broke punk's fuck-it spirit wide open for me. For years I carried a big Fender bass amp--my only amp at the time,… Continue reading Punk Postures: Overlooking Punk’s Real Lessons