Journal

Dispatches and speculations from the American roadside.



June 12, 2022

Headlights

Ohio. Sunset: 9:02pm. You can never see further than your headlights: this old slice of trucker philosophy makes more sense to me with each passing year.

May 30, 2022

Acid Camp

Ohio. Sunset: 8:54pm. The moon is brand new, my computer gave me an eye exam, and Johnny Cash is growling “I See a Darkness” across 140 beats per minute.

May 28, 2022

“Only in a Rerun”

The Running Man became my ur-text for a sleazy future of trashcan fires, black markets, station hijacking, and vicious game show hosts.

May 23, 2022

Windshield

Ohio. Sunset: 8:49pm. I wonder if the health of a society can be pegged to the nerves of its motorists.

May 21, 2022

Best MP3 Player?

Can anyone recommend a solid alternative to Apple Music that will sync my mp3s with my desktop and telephone?

May 9, 2022

Maps

Ohio. Sunset: 8:35pm. My map is upside down, inscrutable, and probably for a different planet.

May 6, 2022

Not That You Mind the Killing

The Night of the Hunter opens with the disembodied heads of five children floating in the cosmos and gets weirder from there. 

May 4, 2022

Hand of God

Ohio. Sunset: 8:30pm. There’s a waxing crescent moon, and I’m reading about God.

April 27, 2022

Rot

I think I’ve managed to switch on the comments in case anyone wants to say hello or recommend a movie or a song.

April 20, 2022

Greenland

I’m somewhere over Greenland, and the sun will never go down because we’re flying west.

April 17, 2022

London

Mostly cloudy skies with a high near seventy degrees while C. and I sat in the National Gallery, awaiting the results of our mandatory Covid tests so we could fly home.

April 14, 2022

Brighton

Why is elegant decay more appealing than the gleaming new thing? Perhaps because it inspires sympathy, even a sense of recognition.