mwotw

I consider myself a feminist… and by that I mean that I am a man, who, though he is a man, is to all that is female and feminine an ardent and devoted fan. Interestingly, if not unexpectedly, this is a position that has seemed to alienate me from both genders for as long as I can recall. I don’t mind that so much, since those whom I offend the most are the most firmly “encamped” in their roles. And I don’t really care to be liked by fundamentalists, or by anyone who holds an opinion above reason — especially an angry opinion. Plus, standing astride an ideological line permits me to do what I love to do the most — translate and make introductions — (more…)

I read this now, and realize I must have been at some sort of inflection point when I wrote this — a point of change. Having been “Sam” many times, I began to lift my desire for brilliant, beautiful women to a higher plane. Enter, “Mr. Carrier” (must thank Dearest Lauren for the name). I wanted to take and give, rather than take and leave empty-handed. The power of a genius, when so restrainted so long, so unfairly, can be released by the merest touch…

Zero Positive (more…)

The Lazarus Problem

If I have bid you “Rise, and make all human haste!” I really must apologize (for such a human waste), then turn a Father’s cheek. I was surprised to find at such accomplished heights (however bright and vanishing) the headway of my Earthly Tribe. It seems but yesterday that I first gave you leave to fly beyond the Garden’s harboring Green. What can it mean when all my favored progeny, and all the very best I’ve sent (to look and seek among the stars), return to me but cindered things? Of course, I wish alive again the very, very best of me, that I might prove a deity deserving of such offerings. But I prefer to re-invent, and make of cinders promises: Another band of reckless men, of singularly cunning sight, must rise and come and try again to find Me in the Night. 09 February, 2003 (For Columbia’s Seven)