Can you just imagine: Being deep inside the earth and learning that your way out had failed, thinking you were going to die down there in the darkness while the usable air just disappeared all around you, and then, to the amazement and delight of the entire world, one day being brought to the surface to see your friends and family again? To get that kind of second chance?
On the drive in to work today I had my dial tuned to American Family Radio. It’s an addiction, don’t judge me. “Focal Point with Bryan Fischer” is the show that’s usually on when I head to work (except for on Saturdays, when it’s “Down Gilead Lane,” which I LOVE SO FUCKING MUCH IT’S GROSS), and today they were apparently discussing the recent spate of young gay people killing themselves. A caller said of Rutgers…
More news designs to share! This small but fun package ran this past Sunday in Viewpoint. The story –which is a great read and might make you tear up a little or, ahem, a lot — is here.
The CA broke a pretty fascinating story on Sunday: Ernest Withers, the iconic civil rights photographer, was a paid FBI informant. It’s almost too crazy to contemplate, but most history is, if you think about it. I was lucky enough to get to do the print layout, although that meant that I had to sit on such a crazy story for a few weeks. That’s nothing compared to Marc Perrusquia’s having to keep mum about…
So we’re having a little fun over on Twitter parodying Chris Brogan’s Memphis visit with the #fakebrogan hashtag. It came about because my friend Leslie mentioned being annoyed by all the Brogan tweets and retweets that were flooding her timeline thanks to this Brogan dude being in town and presenting to a bunch of marketing/PR people who were listening to him and tweeting (and retweeting and reretweeting) his soundbytes. I’m not trying to be a…
Mom, dad, and the nephews came down Sunday and we went to a Redbirds game. We were among a dozen or so people in attendance on what turned out to be a lovely evening. I am exaggerating. There had to be thirty people there. It felt nice to show off the park and even nicer that the Redbirds won. Going to those games is bittersweet; it’s always fun but when I go, I see how…
On my way to work today, I listened to a few minutes of Focal Point, one of the several highly entertaining but generally batshit insane programs that air on AFR every day, and I happened to catch host Bryan Fischer indulging some angry callers in their anti-gay rants regarding the Mississippi high-school student whose prom was canceled because she wanted to attend with her female partner and her school said NUH UH and took their…
Me, aloud, on the car ride home: I argued the word “miraculous” off the front page today. Me, pretending to be someone else, in my skull: Why? Me, aloud: Because it’s not the fucking 700 Club.
Today I waged a word battle at work and I lost. It was over this story on The CA‘s site. The headline: “Third ex-Memphis police officer pleads guilty to forced sex with prostitutes.” “Forced sex,” huh? Like, sex you don’t want to have but that someone else makes you have? So … like … rape? After seeing my pal Amanda’s complaint about the euphemism on Twitter, I read the story and agreed totally with her.…
Nick: i need some scotch gotta drink some for teddy me: you’re supposed to pour it out not drink it although … that is wasteful i’m having red wine. would he approve? Nick: kennedy wouldn’t want it poured yeah me: that’s what i thought Nick: also, if you could die in a river he’s down with that me: that would be helpful, i guess too soon, nice *nick not nice *nick Nick: meh me: i’m…
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