One Foot In

Over to You, Pixie

19 Nov 2010

You’re probably wondering who Pixie is. She’s my muse. I don’t remember when I learned her name, nor do I even remember when she showed up in my imagination as an actual person. Well, not exactly a person. She looks like a bad-girl version of Tinkerbell, so more like a fairy. She also smokes, although never near me, so I’m OK with it.

Wasn't Publishing Supposed to Be About New Knowledge, or Improving Human Existence, or Something Other Than . . . Publishing?

6 Jul 2010

When I was a mortgage broker in the 80’s, on Long Island, it was obvious to us all the system was broken and would crash. You see, we were all being paid to write mortgages. No one’s income depended on whether property owners could actually pay the mortgages back. Write ‘em up, write ‘em up, rah rah rah.

My Dexy Life

5 Mar 2010

The prenatal dex project has turned out to be like having a child: I can’t really remember what life was like before it. Did I have endless amounts of free time before it all started a little over a month ago? Because now it seems to take up hours and hours each day. And hours and hours each night.

The Fog of Privilege

9 Dec 2009

And I thought to myself, what a position of privilege such a postmodern stance is. What a sign of a working democracy and a stable middle class, that one can make such an argument--that evidence is just cute and naive. This was obviously not a man who had been accused of murder, as Chagnon has been.

History in the Walls

22 Nov 2009

Whatever else I can’t know about why that newspaper from 1938 ended up in the wall of my bathroom, what I can know, better than ever, is that our house has been inhabited before by people like us: people who read the New York Times; people who grow flowers to give to neighbors; people who establish powerful local relationships over shared indulgences downtown; people who probably, like most people, hurt when meaning to help.

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