By mid morning, the classroom was really heating up. I turned on every available fan, shut off the the overhead lights, and opened the windows.
You identify them by
their burnt fingertips.
It has become part and parcel of political commentary to proclaim, usually in a grave and foreboding tone, that we have entered a “post-truth” society.
Lorde made a name for herself taking down pop culture, but what would she do now that the world knew her name? Now that she was pop culture?
It’s not me. It’s definitely you.
Two weeks ago, in the lead-up to a concert, I got to read poetry off a video screen that was larger than the end zone of a football field.
Genleevia is a Level 97 Warrior. She rides proudly atop a golden gryphon and wields her morning star against foes like the Wind-Worker and Vice the Shadow Wyrm.
I was satisfied in my decision. There was thrill in riding without a ticket. And I was convinced that what I was doing was right. I was in line with the spirit of the law, even if the law had no spirit.
“Are you happy with how things shook out?” he asked me.
Someone would pass a six-pack of cold root beer up and all of us would lounge in a circle and talk about nothing, and it felt like everything.