For personal reasons, I've decided to let this blog go. It doesn't feel like a funeral. It feels as though I am putting a toy boat...

Self-referential asylum; den of blathering “I’s”; honeycomb of mirrored selves. Language, that pearlescent injection of silky syntax, co...

In order for something to survive the plummet into the earth’s atmosphere, it must be as deceptive as a spy and as strong as an ox. The atm...

We know nothing of the world that arises with the lazy sun, the dawn that leaps forth from the bottom of a twilight pond. We only know th...

I can still feel it. Its ghostly presence never lets me forget. What was once flesh and bone is now something ensnared in the pulpy marro...

In the realm of science fiction, there is an ongoing battle betwixt humans and hostile agencies which are dispersed throughout the capacious...

For the protesters... One is either in charge of one's destiny or subordinate to the destiny of systemic progress. One is either a c...