The Market Will Sell

Every month, almost like clockwork, the Powell Street BART station will change over its entire advertising schema. It’s not quite the changing of the guard, but it’s at least as colorful. In addition to the standard raft of billboards throughout…

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Wasted Weekend

I am so frustrated. With myself. I often think that the answer to everything is time. Time heals all things, right? Wrong, I know, but at least time should give one the time to do things. This seems almost tautological.…

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Distribution

On my way into work this morning, I nearly finished the latest book I’m reading, Paradise by the late Donald Barthelme. I will finish it on the train home tonight, just two days after finishing the last book I read,…

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Next Stop, Orinda

I am out of energy. Just plain out of gas. Today did its best possible job of getting me to eat my words. At least in some respects. In others, quite the other way, there was an air of affirmation…

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Existence is Futile?

On the train into work this morning, I finished reading The Quiet Girl, Peter Hoeg’s first novel in about a decade. I adored the book (unsurprising given where Hoeg rates on my list of authors), but it was not flawless.…

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