Once called “a modern-day Jack Kerouac” by NPR after he hitchhiked 7,000 miles through the United States, Josh deLacy has since found homes in the Pacific Northwest, the Episcopal Church, and the post calvin. He is the managing director of Branded Look LLC and communications director at St. Luke’s Church. Josh’s writing has appeared in places such as The Emerson Review, Front Porch Review, and Perspectives.

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Our Fragile Democracy

In the 15 years since electronic voting machines were first adopted by many states, numerous reports by computer scientists have shown nearly every make and model to be vulnerable to hacking.

A Sign From God

“Meeting you was a divine encounter. I’m living on trust, too.” Jacob grinned, as if my existence validated his life.

Everything is Copying

You get one or two good ideas of your own, and that’s it. That’s all you get to work with, and you can either beat your ass like some self-flagellating monk to make something with that idea, or you can leave it alone and keep on copying.

Bury Me Naked

When I die, bury me naked. Or burn me. I’ll leave the choice between casket or urn to my loved ones, so long as they keep clothing out of it.

Condom Nation

Those who drive sex education policies, it would seem, care more about ideology than accuracy—more about ideology, in fact, than effectiveness, teen moms, or lifelong diseases, either.

Slackcountry Snow

Then I pointed my skis over the edge and leaned forward so my weight eased me into the wide couloir, and it felt like I was plummeting and the snow exploding around me like a warzone.

I Am Liking Myself

“It doesn’t matter what you do,” I will tell my children, “as long as you like yourself better than you like most other people.”

I’m Just Like You

That’s why teachers are always angry, and why the most successful schools still employ good, old-fashioned paddlin’. Yell some sense into ‘em, preferably with personal insults and condemnations of their overall character.

Live at KEXP: This Is the Kit

I stood ten feet away from Kate Stables in the front row of an audience that barely totaled twenty people, and yet This Is the Kit wasn’t playing for us. They didn’t even know we were there.

On Owning Guns

Whenever I tell people about this hunting trip, about my family’s tradition for the past ten years, I share it with a blend of defiance, pride, and defensiveness.

A Sehnsuchtsvoll Website

The fairness and insensitivity of this feels reassuring, like weather or death. Something I cannot change. Something that does not care about me.

I Sing the Body Collective

At some level, isn’t that what individualism is all about? Being the hero. Saving the day. Who watches Han Solo blow up TIE fighters, and then decides he’d rather be the air traffic controller who directs X-wings to Yavin IV?

Freshman Orientation

Will Montei made me feel infinitely better about moving to college and leaving everyone behind, simply because no matter how sad and alone I felt, at least I wasn’t him.

Crotchpot

I recently discovered the healthy, frugal, “have my shit together” magic known as a crockpot, specifically, a brown-and-tan, floral relic from my parents’ wedding that in a roundabout Oedipal way, led to the traumatization of my penis.

Prologue

I had no cell phone service. No way to leave. I had ridden here in the back seat of a minivan, lurching through miles of winding and branching dirt roads, through a night black with trees and dust and stories of fights.

La La Life

Mia, waitress, wants to be an actor; Sebastian, broke musician, wants to own a jazz club. But La La Land’s biggest tension happens outside the screen: an unspoken, unreferenced standoff between itself and the twenty-first century.

Salt and Undertakings

I would wear my long underwear for the rest of the day, feeling like a fur trapping Superman throughout econ, band, English, and calculus.

Why I Believe

I believe because I don’t believe in soundbites, How to Win Friends and Influence People, diets, morals of the story, or myself.

The Tinder Boys

They looked friendly enough. Cute, too, but that probably wouldn’t be the point. I had suffered through enough bad Tinder dates to abandon all hope of swiping my way into love.

Mary-Veronica

She isn’t actually Mary-Veronica. First she was Veronica, and then, after I gave her $140 but before she gave me her address, she became Mary.

As a Mother

You know that saying, “Mother knows best”? It’s a saying for a frickin’ reason. We’re the backbone of every decent household in America.

Playing Hot Potato with Kindness

I want selfless people to have blissful, perfect lives. When I argue with someone about selfishness—“it’s a virtue. The Golden Rule just makes betas feel better about not standing up for themselves”—I want to point to loving families and say, “See? This is possible. This is good,” but I can’t.