Millennial Meditations (2/3)

I haven’t smoked cannabis in three days; feeling tired and uneasy. A friend said, “Weed saved me from killing myself.” I believe him, but weed isn’t a solution. It’s too easy to fall back into familiar habits, especially when enforced by friends. Some say, “You’re the average of your five best friends.”

Millennial Meditations (3/3)

Understanding and spotting logical fallacies will reduce the risk of being manipulated by irrational and deceitful individuals; politicians and social activists are the most egregious offenders in daily life.; they’ll use strawmans, red herrings, and draw misguided causes from minimal correlation. Whenever an individual paints with a broad brush, generally, a false claim will follow;

Solidarity

We aren’t free. while someone’s knee is on our neck, our hands are cuffed, and three others stare silently. Reduced to squirming like worms, we bellow like the day we were born into this unjust world.  Ignorance and complacency are two of the greatest ills of our society. Fortunately, the …

Death to Kohler

Angels have come, from across the land  With deep pockets and outstretched hands “Gather round, creative ones;  We’ll buy your gags, just for fun.” Some will win, but most will lose Modesty dangles from a noose  Teslas zipping, while drivers snooze  Sheeps bleat for blacks—they aren’t amused  When times get …

The Price of Peace

The sun is shining and the birds are singing. I’m gathering my family’s empty soda cans to take them to a recycling center in Hayward, CA. I kept postponing this trip, because they closed all the recycling centers in my hometown of Castro Valley — attempting to purge the homeless blight.

East County

While attending San Diego State University, I lived with three other guys in Spring Valley, southeast of San Diego. It wasn’t the greatest area: every other week, there’d be a stolen car sitting on the cross-street before our cul-de-sac; but our neighbors were nice, and when we planned our parties, …

What’s a Spider?

I met my first Australians while attending college at San Diego State University. The guys were muscle-bound, chill dudes—similar to the laid-back surfer bros of southern California. Whereas the ladies were snappy and straight to the point—sarcasm, idle chit-chat—nope, never.

Stan

I’m at a family friend’s wedding with my brother, parents, and girlfriend—tucked into the hills along Highway 1, not too far from Hearst Castle. The ceremony is pleasant—despite the ungodly summer heat. Family and friends deliver speeches; the pastor goes through the motions; then we walk a half mile down a dirt path towards a barn, where the reception dinner is awaiting our arrival.