All I wanted to do was listen to a wonderful pipe organ. A church got in the way.
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References to Charles Dickens abound as the spirits of past years are summoned in search of a hopeful spirit for the holidays.
I talk to myself because sometimes I need expert advice. This is one of those times.
All predictions were that we would be a great society by 2020. Those predictions were wrong. 2020 is already disappointing.
It’s my birthday, but how many of us will be here for the next one? We’re dying too quickly and that’s a problem!
The New Yorker scooped my planned topic so we got all depressed and went this direction instead.
Being creative and maintaining that creativity raises a lot of questions and doubts and the fear that we’re all going mad.
[Annoying copy reminding people I need to eat at least once a week. Either buy something or drop us some cash.] An editorial reminder that links in this…
There is a lot of fear in our lives and many are unnecessary. We look at five fears you no longer need.
Rhetoric is irrelevant; climate change now threatens everything, eliminating the opportunity for a measured response. Note: I realize that since we’ve spent 20 weeks with the novel there…