Thank for Visiting

Thank You for Visiting

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Hang the Head of BP

What shall we do with the boyish head of BP (the S.O.B who said: “I want my life back.”)? Here is an idea: Until death he must pick up tar balls off Louisiana's shoreline; and when he is done with that, he can move on to Alabama's, and then on to Florida's, and then farther afield. ... A better idea, however, and I shouldn't say this (actually I do.): let's hang him—only if we were China. Now you know how I feel.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

I Appreciate The Little Things In Life

At the moment I am at the neighborhood's coffee shop. I sit down to read. ... But instead I find myself writing. ... By the window a young man is confessing his love to a shy girl, she looks uneasy. To my left a man and a woman, with age and pain creased on their faces, hold hands as they bow their heads to say a prayer, before they take a sip of their lattes; they gaze at each other's eyes as lovers' first sight. Across from me sits a woman, oblivious of her surrounding, with her exquisite legs well displayed under her yellow skirt, typing on her computer. ... And I read, “Drink to me only with thine eyes. ..." It's an intimate evening, and I am happy to be here.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Oil Spill

As the Gulf blackens, and the fishermen don't fish—but disperse chemicals on the dark waters of the beautiful Gulf they once fished—and their tears darken by the hour, there is no one to blame but us: Our sybaritic life and, therefore, hunger for oil. And in the spirit of our mediocrity and I-only-care-about-me patriotism, I intend to go have a glass of wine and listen to Mozart.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Coalesce Around Our Common Virtues

I am disheartened by the division of our country: Democrats versus Republicans. We must set aside our differences and coalesce around our common virtues.


As long as you're not always stock with misfortunes, life is good. But the cruelty of life ordains that someone has to be at the very bottom of the pit. You just hope it's not always you or your tribe. No humankind eludes injury, whether physical or emotional; the Cruel God makes sure of that. To hurt is to breath, and to breath is to live.