Last month I committed social suicide.
I deleted my Facebook account.
With no small sense of irony, I went to see The Social Network shortly after.
What struck me about the film wasn’
Thanksgiving is a holiday about moving. We know the story. A hounded religious
group seeks a home. A leaky, broken ship crosses the Atlantic to a cold and
rocky thicket that offers the
After teaching one Friday night, I made the mistake of putting in my ear buds
and listening to The Suburbs, the latest album from Arcade Fire. As a bus led me
away from
The bucolic journey, which started as a rare time of togetherness for my Texan
husband and me, turned into a tension-filled, stressed out drive when we took a
wrong turn at Kerrville.
“Did
> “After raping them we would also kill them . . . they would flee once we let
them go. Then we would ‘bang!’ shoot them in the back to finish them up . . .
perhaps when we