Moral Mathematics

Learning to love getting hit in the face with a rake. I got into a discussion lately about how to improve society on a one-to-one basis, in our daily lives, related to our perception of sexual assault accusations.  The question in its original form was this: How do we convince people that sometimes people we …

Character Select: M F [Cancel]

I don’t know what my body is supposed to look like, but it’s not this. Right now, that’s all I know. I look at page after page of pictures under the “androgyny” tag, and I see what I wish my body looked like.  Sure is surprisingly racist up in this aesthetic.  They are all white, …

Death and Other Distractions 2: The Bad Touch

The stories in this series involve me being unusually frank and graphic about some fucked-up stuff, and therefore have the following blanket content warnings: Child abuse Self-harm and suicide Violence Drug abuse Mental illness Sexual assault and rape A shit-ton of swears

Death and Other Distractions

I visualize the depths of depression as a well. Maybe your personal hell looks different. For me the important characteristics are: 1) It’s dark 2) It’s physically uncomfortable in myriad small ways 3) I can’t see anything but the Well when I’m in it That last part is critical. It’s what makes possible situations like …

Isopods for Peace

Far as I can tell, image of a giant isopod at Shedd Aquarium by nate_newton of the Captivereefs.com forum, Oct. 2011. I tarted it up in Photoshop a bit. This is the story of how I started an isopod peacenik cult. Kinda-sorta on purpose. Deeeep.io (four ‘e’s) is a browser game created by Federico Mouse. It’s …

Do It For Nothing

Writing sucks.  I don’t have to tell you that – you’re here because you know.  You clicked on that title above because it matches the relentless voice in your own head that says, “This is never going to work.  This is never going to pay. I’ll never be Stephen King. Or even E.L. James, for …

Letters to You

Dear _____, When I was a kid, I had to write thank-you letters to everyone who sent me presents at birthdays and Christmases.  I hated it, of course.  My mother wouldn’t settle for a thank-you note, no – these were letters, a full lined page at minimum.  There was even an accepted format.  I could …