Yo Ivanhoe

I’m the guy who walked out of the building and the building fell down. That’s certainly the sort of experience that’s going to stay with you, but I sure as hell never thought it would come to define me to such an extent. A close call like that is all it takes anymore to make … Read more

Whom the gods wish to destroy, they destroy. Euripedes was a nit-picker. The gods can destroy you on the installment plan, incrementally, step by fucking step. And, yes, madness is in their bag of tricks, but they have bigger, more wicked tricks up their sleeves than mere madness. Let’s say you’re me. But, no, let’s … Read more

All right, everybody get in line and listen up. I want you fellas to get some shut-eye so we can all be up and ready to hump it at first light. We’ll be traveling seven miles to the east over rugged terrain. Word has it we might be in for some heavy weather as well, … Read more

Here I am, full of days. Maybe you know what I mean. You let enough time pass through you and pretty soon you start to feel the world within you winding down. There’s this greater, increasingly unfamiliar friction to your days, and the appetite packs up its bags and goes looking elsewhere for its beefsteaks … Read more

Here, it seems, is where we are. Right here. And for what purpose are we here? Do we have anything resembling a mission statement? No, no, it appears that we do not have anything resembling a mission statement. Nor, apparently, do we have even a general idea regarding what it is we are up to. … Read more

We have all been expelled from the garden, but the ones who suffer most in exile are those who are still permitted to dream of perfection. –Stanley Kunitz, “Reflections” As God was his witness, the guy said, he was not shitting me. What he was telling me was exactly the fucking truth. Look at him. … Read more

And you, what do you seek? —Rene Daumal The love of books is for children who glimpse in them a life to come, but I have come to that life and feel uneasy with the love of books. This is my life, time islanded in poems of dwindled time. There is no other world. —Robert … Read more

Inside-the-park homerun? An 0-2 wild pitch with a runner on third? All those half-assed at-bats in the seventh and eighth innings? The inability, time and again, to get a big two-out hit? Four runs in two games? S’Awright. I don’t know what else to tell you. Maybe God doesn’t work day games.