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My friend Tom says most, if not all, great writers are fractured individuals. I hope he’s wrong about that; I’ve always been a happy, well-adjusted guy. I plan to achieve Great Writer status one day and would hate to think lack of a tortured soul, along with precious little talent, will prevent such dreams. The only thing even remotely dark about me is my middle name. If I had been a girl, none of this would have happened. I would have been Betty Louise. At least that’s what my mother said. The Mike part of my name originated with an old Army Read on →
Not having grown up American, I find that I am often ignorant of American culture. On the other hand, when it is pointed out to me, I see it as an outsider and, I sometimes think, more clearly. That was the case with the car culture "discovered" by my spouse in the American cinema. We agreed that the ancillary side-effects of Americans' love affair with their cars -- urban sprawl, social disruption, environmental degradation, individual isolation -- are all deplorable. But, it was only recently that it hit me that the promotion of the private automotive capsule and the destruction Read on →
Georgia's General Assembly began Monday. Watch out! Few of us are safe from its machinations! You can be sure with the super majority that the Republican Party now has in the Legislature, we will see many proposals aimed at reducing taxes, that will give the rich more power, and forget the underprivileged. In other words, more of the same. It's a wonderful day, say those of the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC), as it licks its chops anticipating that Georgia will join other states in tearing down progressive legislation and moving our state even in a more backward direction through adoption of Read on →
WARNING: This feature has nothing to do with politics, terrorism, or race relations. It does, however, touch upon your unavoidable visit from the Grim Reaper. Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful, lest you let other people spend it for you. — Carl Sandburg In my explorations along back roads, deep woods, and left-behind places, I come across forgotten graveyards. Their tombstones, like tragic figures in some sad drama, long ago surrendered to weathering. Stones cut from rocks softer than granite appear to me Read on →