Z.

A few years ago, shortly after returning home after being away for an extended absence, I was standing at a crosswalk when I happened to look up and recognize an old acquaintance. James had been a friend of sorts during my high school days starting freshman year. Neither of us was popular back then, which meant that we had been partners for school projects on more than one occasion when he and I were the only two students remaining without a teammate. We had been quite different, but we were similar in at least that one respect.  James had always been a decent guy-- though I never could say I knew him especially well. I wasn't even entirely sure he would recognize me as he approached the crosswalk I was waiting at, yet this doubt would soon be erased when, as he approached closer, I looked again to see him staring at me with the most beguiling expression on his face that I could not guess what it portended. It seemed to me a mix of surprise, shock, and-- was it sadness? Grief? His ...

People should consider going back to the forgotten ways.  Living until old age? All my grandfather used to ever warn me about was to never get old.  It never used to be that way. Used to be, you'd be eaten by a bear.  Like that series of shots in Forrest Gump, where Lieutenant Dan's ancestors each die in every American war. Except a long line of distant prehistoric relatives being eaten by a long line of Arctic woolly bears. Maybe that's where the trouble began. One generation that grew up, healthy enough and prosperous enough to not need to risk fighting the bears as much. Then, suddenly, death by bear isn't all that common. A thing which could be avoided. To what end? Disease? Tooth rot? Gangrene? The bears were a blessing. Look at those canines. Perfectly shaped to puncture dense primate skull. We didn't know how good we had it, being eaten by bears. Maybe not in our prime, but only just far enough in decline that we couldn't escape the bears' meathook cl...

Hopefully these line up. But they might even be better if they don't.  In one particular order: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 70. From what I gather she is quite accomplished. 45. Taking this a step further, I was curious about the etymology. Here's what Vocabulary.com has to say: Manipulative comes from the Latin word manus for "hand," and originally the English words that sprang from it like manipulate and manipulation referred to skill in physically handling objects by hand. The psychological sense we now associate with manipulative came much later on, but as anyone who has been successfully manipulated well knows, it often feels like you've been brilliantly manhandled. 38. Point taken. 15. Society definitely lost something  with the passing of public executions. Some may argue we've become a more cultured, civilized people since then— but there is much that can be said for the powe...

Some people live in a culture where sharing is actively discouraged. And then I think— James Joyce allegedly used to wear a milkman uniform when writing because his eyesight was so bad. Did he just put on the wrong outfit that morning? No. Allegedly, wearing all-white helped reflect light off of his clothes onto the page so that he could see better. This anecdote may not even be true— at least not in the sense that "truth" means it factually occurred. But there is "truth" to it; something that can easily be believed because people are that eccentric and determined to share their vision. It may not have happened in the particular, but it happens in the general every single day, whether you're James Joyce or not (and for the record, I don't claim to be. I've never even read any of his work).  My point is: there's no end to the number of reasons why not to share something. Why it's a bad idea to attempt a connection with somebody— anybody— it doesn...