One time only, in case someone wants to read this in Spanish, they'll obviously have to imagine my voice. Así que tú, extraño mamífero, ya estás de vuelta para otra de mis peroratas. No puedo decir que me sorprenda. Hagámoslo. Después de mi pieza sobre la obsesión y
So, you strange mammal, are already back for another one of my rantings. Can’t say I’m surprised. Let’s do it. After my piece about obsession and my preachy ending, I got some comments from friends who read it. Some were like, “That’s beautiful, Sisyphus,” but those
“Oh hell yeah, Sisyphus is gonna dunk on obsession, obsessive people, and everything that is not perfectly balanced, neutral, boring, non-emotional exchange! Let’s do this!” Well, don’t count your injuries before you try to pet the cat, I say. Let’s go slowly. So. Obsession. It’s
The awakening, you must be thinking? To what? Consciousness? Sexuality? It’s sexuality, right? I’m kind of freaky, so it definitely checks out. But no, dear reader. This is about something bad. This is about the awakening. The one that happens when you discover the answer to one of
At least three times now, I’ve said something like: “I used to be so funny, you know? Crazy, you might say. Outrageous. Always ready with a pun, a joke, a quip, or, on one memorable occasion, a taser aimed directly at my best friend’s butt.” On some nights
It is a Thursday morning, close to noon. You are working, like every day, when a pressure starts building in your chest. You would never admit what it is, because you are big and strong, and big, strong men are not supposed to be afraid. But you are afraid. Finally,
It has been about a week since my last boring personal essay, and I have decided to let go of “On...” as the sacred little doorway into every title. Instead, I want to start writing and let the worst — and the best — fall off without any order. Today I found
You know that sensation? Like having a very heavy backpack hanging from your shoulders and pressing down on your chest? The one that crosses the line between emotion and physical sensation. That sensation is anxiety. Worry. Fear. Pain seeping out and making your breathing heavy. And you are saying to
So, speaking of things that bring gloom and sadness to the world, let’s talk about the worst kind of government, bar every other kind. Let’s do this: have you ever considered that that person — you know the one — can vote, and their vote is worth exactly the same
So, we have fallen into comfort, people. Just a bunch of lighthearted, happy subjects: inferiority complex, impostor syndrome, hell, alcohol, love. We’ve become complacent. That won’t do. Let’s do something heavy. Something that really makes the heart pump. So, death… That part is easy. Inevitable. Cold. It
Hell yeah, here we go again, and we’re talking about… well, yes, Hell. Hell is a fascinating philosophical concept. You can learn a lot about a culture by how exactly it imagines Hell. For example, those “cutting your feet on a thin wire until you fall into the abyss”
So. You're back so soon? Well, let's do it. You don't want to work, neither do I. Let's rock! Love. About half of all music is related to it. Of that, a third speaks about how the singer wants it, another about
So, it’s hot out there, I’m bored, and if I go to sleep right now I’ll wake up at 2 a.m. feeling like a Victorian ghost with Wi-Fi. Let’s do this. Let’s defend something objectively bad. Or, at the very least, very dangerous.
So there, I said it: carpe diem is excellent advice. Which is unfortunate, because it’s also terrible advice. Maybe it requires balance… No. Fuck balance. We roll. So, yeah, Tolstoy said it better: “Life is meaningless because death swallows everything.” Good work, people. Happy Monday. Let’s wrap it
So, here we go again. Yes, yes, I had a huge case of writer’s block, but I found motivation in the same place a lot of people before me have: Our own impending doom. What do we do now that the world is going to hell? It’s easy
So, you’re back again for more. I can’t say I understand you but — no, you know what? No respect either. This morning, while talking about that piece about misery, someone said one of those forbidden phrases that immediately sets off alarms in my head: “Don’t take things
If you spend some time around people — and I can’t stress enough how much I recommend avoiding this if at all possible — you’ll hear conversations centered on how someone has it bad, and how others have it worse. Just now, I saw a post mocking former child actors
Oh, the quest for perfection. Reminds me of my handsome, arrogant, oh so difficult younger self. He thought - wrongly - that he could do anything. I know, I speak as a 100 year old man, and it’s because I feel just like that. So much has happened. Such a lot
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The choice of Sisyphus as a name is not gratuitous and definitely not cheap. Life feels just like that for me. From a very young age, I’ve had to accept the fact that I’m very intelligent, just because I’m aware of a lot of stuff that most