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A Socratic Manifesto
Seneca was in the habit in his letters of sharing the lessons from his daily reading with Lucilius. I thought I might do the same and share with you a lesson I learned today from my reading, whoever you are. I’ve been reading . . .
On Spending Time
Dear Lena,
You mentioned that you’re frustrated, even horrified, with yourself for the amount of time you spend lounging around in bed when you wake up and how much time you suspect yourself of wasting generally. I find your frustration both ill and well formed, based on how well I know you, and would caution that you have a little more patience with yourself. . . .
The Alitak Dispatch, Iss. 01
It’s been a moment since I’ve posted anything, here on Versuche. The reason is simple: I’ve been working on my novel, On the Arctic Glass. It’s a time consuming project because . . .
The Truth Is Shitty
The thing happened last Friday. We were driving back from the TUBRI when we stopped at an intersection in New Orleans and my partner pointed it out.
“Uh oh,” she said, “somebody’s naked!”
The five of us turned to see a heavy-set man scuttle by, briefs around his knees, displaying all that he was for the great wide world to enjoy: round, satiated belly; dust-matted tattoos; biscuit-flat buns; and an impressively large brood pouch. What was most interesting, however, was the way he contemplated whatever it was nestled in the fingertips of his left hand; it seemed to him to be the most beautiful object in all the world.
But we recognized it immediately. . . .
Automatic Writing 2
War is a four-letter word that rhymes with rigged, as in a sailor’s rig, and the meaning always comes after the fact, after the word—a great and deliberate post hoc drama. . . .
On the Arctic Glass: Second Scene
The Summer House was an all-male bunkhouse, located northeast of the cannery, on a worn gravel road packed flat by a century of weary feet . . .