It turns out I am going to breakfast with my parents. See you later.
Cold and fog mark the weather this morning. Before my parents drove away, I helped them wipe the condensation off the car windows with spare paper napkins from a fast-food joint. They handed the dirty, …
My parents came over and spent the night because they went to my sister's employer's annual banquet. I declined to have breakfast with them and my sister this morning. Maybe the best way to keep …
My dad doesn't like that I posted that poem about him. What else is new?
Tonight Leonard and I are going to see The Man Who Wasn't There, the new Coen brothers flick, at a free campus preview. Ads and reviews describe the film as a noir sendup. We'll see. …
I find David Denby's Slate article on how Americans can spread the good word (We aren't so bad, here's what's good about our culture) inspiring in a way I have never been inspired before.
Ooh ahh, ooh ahh, ooh ooh diddy, tell me about the anthrax found at a mail processing facility in Kansas City. In retrospect, I was kinda foolish to hope that anthrax would confine itself to …
Philip Zimbardo and Stanley Milgram went to the same high school. Also, a band exists entitled "Stanford Prison Experiment." One reason I was poking around for information relating to Zimbardo: I've recently started using the …
I found myself, over the past few days, repeating "Happy Halloween!" in a strange, half-macabre voice. Yesterday, I finally remembered why. When I lived in Freeborn Hall, I knew Mike Carns, and his aunt had …
I wrote a poem a few weeks ago. Here it is. Consistency Bias Negotiating with a terrorist! I did it every day -- no gracious dance Would save me from my dad. There's no romance …
