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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

FLATLAND: Prologue

SAMUEL FLETCHER Ought-Seven:UE (Unasian Era) By the age of thirty-seven, Samuel Fletcher had cheated death more times than he could recall, thanking Olidammara at every opportunity. Taken from his village and pressed into military service at 15 years old, he’d come of age during a violent and lawless time, spending his next fifteen years fighting in the Thousand Years War – first as a capable soldier defending the northern regions of Flatland, then an unprincipled spy for the highest bidder, as kingdoms fell and borders shifted and original disputes were long-forgotten. At 30 years old, the War finally ended when…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

SUGGESTED READING LIST

Not sure which one I'll read next but thanks to all for the suggestions a while back. A pretty diverse list. Prison Memiors of an Anarchist Alexander Berkman Running with Scissors Dry Augusten Burroughs The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay Michael Chabon Meaning of Consuelo Judith Ortiz Cofer Learning to Question Paulo Freire, Antonio Faundez Pedagogy of the Oppressed Paulo Friere The Old Man And The Sea Ernest Hemingway Monstrous Regiment Terry Prachett Kiss of the Spider Woman Manuel Puig Breakfast of Champions The Sirens of Titan Kurt Vonnegut Farming of the Bones Edwidge Danticat The Da Vinci Code…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Non-profit, literally

I get daily emails from Idealist.org about job openings in non-profit and socially-minded for-profit companies. Every week there's usually a few interesting jobs that are right up my alley. Invariably, they pay considerably less than my current corporate rut job. "Considerably less" as in Executive Directors for some of these places make less than me. And that's not because I make Executive Director money. I don't hate my job, specifically, as much as I hate the corporate atmosphere I have to to do it in. Things like the Yummy Sandwich incident. Or the stupid-hire-in-the-first-place, boss on probation fiasco. Most days,…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

The New Stuff

For Rich Villar I remember the new stuff. When it hit the mic raw and risky like homemade sushi      more interested in the flavor      than the presentation. We were too hungry for pretense. I remember the new stuff. When it burst from the heart like a ball of fire through an origami parade on a mission from god –      prophecy overflowing      from the mouths of babes. We were going to change the world but were tempted by it instead. I remember the new stuff. When writing was like breathing and everything was new and new was…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Pumpkin Seeds: Trickle Down Edition

1. My earliest "political" memory is of rooting for Jimmy Carter over Ronald Reagan in the 1980 Presidential election. My second is of being disappointed that Reagan didn't die when he was shot in 1981. 2. Reaganomics can kiss my ass. Shit trickles downhill, not prosperity. There is no pony buried under the manure; just more manure. 3. On Tuesday, my boss finally got the boot. Thursday's goodbye lunch was one of the most awkward moments I've ever had to contribute $21 to. What do you say to someone that was justifiably fired and knows it? 4. Realized last week…

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An arm with a tattoo: "I was made for the library, not the classroom."

Dirty Laundry

If you haven't heard by now, Bill Cosby aired some dirty laundry in full public view a couple of weeks ago, speaking at a gala marking the 50th anniversary of the Brown v. Board of Education desegregation ruling. "Ladies and gentlemen, the lower economic people are not holding up their end in this deal," he declared. "These people are not parenting. They are buying things for kids -- $500 sneakers for what? And won't spend $200 for 'Hooked on Phonics.' . . . I am talking about these people who cry when their son is standing there in an orange…

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