If people read, perhaps they wouldn’t be in such a tizzy. — I haven’t been on here in a while. Sorry for that. Three books, a few articles, and, well, this world makes it difficult to write to and for the public. But it’s early, and I have a little bit of time. I have nasty insomnia, so my sleep schedule is…

To Whom it May Concern: You’ve moved on. Placing a cute emoji behind my hashtag, your conscience is cleansed, and you’ve now moved on to other things — Donald Trump, perhaps, or maybe your continued self-assault on your own children through gun violence. I no longer register to you, and…

“Ho, Ho, Ho.” The black boot filled the lens of the camera, pushing Ralphie down the slide. The scene is all too familiar; A Christmas Story is, by now, a piece of Americana, a staple in the particularly American mode of celebrating Christmas. I think what I’ve always loved about…

“Ho, Ho, Ho.” The black boot filled the lens of the camera, pushing Ralphie down the slide. The scene is all too familiar; A Christmas Story is, by now, a piece of Americana, a staple in the particularly American mode of celebrating Christmas. I think what I’ve always loved about…

I didn’t know what to do with him. This little boy, this little black boy, exchanging glances with me in the coffee shop. He and a younger black boy were with an older white man, a man who — for the moment anyway — stood as their parental figure, their…