Ten Rules for the New Administration…from the Emus
In the first official inter-species war on record...the emus won. Our new president might want to heed their advice.
In the first official inter-species war on record...the emus won. Our new president might want to heed their advice.
We have been made to feel fragile. But life is hard and precarious, and that is not an automatic risk for mental illness.
Trained to respect a look that requires, then conceals, significant effort, women learned to mistrust anything that was just plain easy.
Hope changes form as we age. We are no longer hoping for new things or adventures or lovers or careers. We are not “living for” any particular cause or project. We are simply living. Hope is now a compact with the universe: a resolve to keep trying, keep giving, keep reaching out. So when the world tells us it would rather we die already, that we are about to become a great deal of bother, why would we not bow out gracefully?
She bought Stephen Sondheim a bottle of the best gin--then saw him pouring white wine. This was, they sighed, the Age of Subtraction.
I call out the list of what not to feed a mouse. No rhubarb. No raisins or onions, no fizzy bubbles, no caffeine. Definitely no booze. Which is a shame, because I bet she would be even cuter tipsy.
“It is impossible to prefigure the salvation of the world in the same language by which the world has been dismembered and defaced.”
I expected women's fantasies to be sensuous and subtle .... Instead they made me want to weep.
A young pastor said, “I was positively surprised how well it worked.” All he missed, he added, was emotion and spirituality.
Listening to a brilliant man who is living in his car, I have, in rapid succession, every reaction I deplore in others.
The Great Capitulation has begun. A cynical shrug could entrench it.
Remember folding white paper again and again, then snipping it with blunt scissors to make a snowflake? The magic never ends.