A friend texted to say it’s irresponsible to protest during a pandemic. All those people
crowded together become vectors for the virus, which doesn’t care about race. I hadn’t
thought of Covid-19 as post-racial, the enlightened bug.
I so want to be optimistic and airy, to write of
our generous spirit, to wax poetic about moon landings
and beach landings, entrepreneurship, sliced bread,
the assembly line, the World Wide Web. It feels un-American
Just as with hurricanes, poverty, terrorism, and all those other “isms” that bedevil mankind, the answer to COVID-19 is to increase military spending and cut taxes.
On June 13, 2016–right in the middle of one of the most consequential presidential elections in American history–“an American-born man who’d pledged allegiance to ISIS gunned down 49 people…at a gay nightclub in Orlando.” The Pulse Nightclub shooting was, at […]
Trump now thinks he is a king, acts like a king, and is deferred to by the Republican Party as though he were a king
Celebrating the birthday of a nonprofit you founded doesn’t have the same nostalgia-soaked feeling as your own birthday: rather than the bittersweet recollections of childhood, this celebration has the bracing feel of adulthood.
I confess to undemocratic meditations:
If Bin Laden had sought instead
to save the world,
what would he have hijacked?
To write is to argue without evidence that beauty
pervades: the rainforest and the killing field,
sunsets and floods of acid rain on I-95.
We can never atone for the billions
spent on dark dreams
sawed through with ease,
