The murder of meaning is a crime Nelson Algren spent his life trying to get people interested in, and it scarcely ended with his death in 1982. Shortly after that year, in fact, one of the greatest admissions of that crime began appearing on t-shirts nationwide. They said, “The one who dies with the most toys wins.” To which Algren’s great love, Simone de Beauvoir, had long ago replied, “’It
California is one of America’s leading agricultural-producing states. Losing any of California’s food production would lower the economy and the support of a growing population. However, an increasing problem in California is decreasing soil health, leading to unusable fields. Many causes result in reduced soil health, but the main one seen in the San Joaquin Valley is salinization or increased salt concentration in the soil. Salt in the soil ruins
We hit the town fast and hard, just as we have done before, just as we will do again. Fly in on a CH-47 Chinook, secure and search the town, and get out. As soon as we dismount the helicopter and it takes off, we run towards the outlying buildings 200 meters away. This town is like everywhere else I’ve been in Iraq; it could be Baqubah, Tikrit, or Tarmiyah.
The simplest definition of “sacred” in the Oxford English Dictionary has always seemed to me to be “set apart,” and that’s probably why I’ve never felt very happy with the word. I’ve never much liked the idea of things being “set apart.” Somehow, in my staunchly Republican family, I acquired a stubborn egalitarianism. But I grew up in places that I’ve recently come to think of as sacred. I grew
I slip around the edges Touching briefly then slipping away. I dance around the edges Bowing to a partner or two then skipping away. I pace along the edges Sharing a fire or a meal then drifting away. I wander the edges of the world Watching just outside the fire’s light then walking away. *** Tracy Linder considers herself the proverbial “Jack of all trades, Master of none.” At any one
Moose rose from his stool in Mother’s Saloon at last call and tossed four twenties on the bar, not knowing how much he owed and not caring. He strolled out the front door and onto Ocean Beach. He peeled off his t-shirt and tossed it in the sand, then lumbered toward the water in his shorts and sandals. Thirty feet from the shoreline, he laid down, inhaled the salty night
