An Analog Man Logs In
My early childhood was haunted by a nightmare in which skin on my body progressively thickened till it turned as dense as crocodile hide. Every sensation then proceeded to disappear—I could no longer feel a thing.
NEVER FLY WITH NO WINGMAN
The myth of the solitary artist is exactly that—a myth.
On All Parades Some Rain Must Fall
It’s no use trying to divide life into good and bad parts, into the painful and the pleasurable, or—more palpably—into the stuff you prefer to accept versus that other crap which you feel must be shunned at all costs.
Research at the Gates of Hell
Adolf Hitler sought to cloak his brutal regime in a warm and rosy aura when he mounted the 1936 Olympics.
When You Snooze, You Lose News
“We must remember that we cannot abandon the truth and remain a free nation.”
