Voter turnout is low. A growing number of people feel that the current form of American democracy is failing. But Technocracy is just Fascism with a college degree.
Technocracy Will Not Save America Read Post »
It has been said that food is better than sex. The sensations, appetites, hunger come pretty close.
Cooking, Sex, & Everything In Between Read Post »
Consumption is pushed as the ultimately form of self-expression. What we eat, wear, drive, buy the dominant way through which
Living Free in an Overproduced World Read Post »
“The body of light, sometimes called the astral body or the subtle body, is a quasi material aspect of the human body, being neither solely physical nor solely spiritual…”
It will only be a matter of time before the accessibility and readily-available nature of A.I. partners will supersede the time and effort it takes to impress a real one.
The Future of Physical Love Read Post »
The veteran doorman of a popular St. Pauli brothel in Hamburg, Germany describes a night in Europe’s largest Red Light District.
Conversations with a Brothel Doorman Read Post »
When tension that could be cut with a knife was used to make noodles instead. When we still wore clothes.
Food and Physicality Read Post »
They kicked the family out of the apartment upstairs and I saw them with their things on the side of the street. Everybody is looking for someplace safe.
An Exploration of the Night and Safe Spaces Read Post »
We all know the things we want. We lust, we hide, we lie, we cheat, we need. We desire. It’s inherently, truthfully, human.
An Unfinished Exploration of Desire Read Post »
The first time I died, Ima tells me, the sun flared its great, fiery disc and swallowed the whole world in a moment. And everything that had been was then no more.
The Depths of Finer Things Read Post »
The day breaks sweaty like the last. Like every day in summer. And especially so in the city where there are no trees to provide shade – only countless blocks of cement baking like the desert, or like the desserts baking in oven pans from the church basement after service. All we can do is hope for rain.
The Definition of Hope Read Post »
Gogo was raised by her uncle after her mother died and her father left for Argentina. Her father never returned from South America, and whether he was alive or dead she never cared to find out.
Love is freedom, Gogo said. Love is flying and falling and falling and catching and getting up again. Love is not what it was before, she said, but what it will be tomorrow.
It is nearly Christmas. The year is drawing to a close and I realize I will again be late on
The Restaurant from the Perspective of a Dishwasher Read Post »
I think about the plate, empty, washed by someone with wrinkled fingers forever reeking of sweat and astringent of cleaning chemicals, waiting to be full again.
When I Think of Food Read Post »