Category Archives: The Other Village

The Elusive Familiar

Artists of all kinds are often accused of prettifying the world, cleaning up its faults and scars to make an artificial beauty. But the opposite is more often true. What the world presents, what nature does of its own accord … Continue reading

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Board Games

I added to my old man skill set by learning to play backgammon this week. I have a little bit to say about the social utility of board games, but not much. Board Games In a far corner of the … Continue reading

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Light in Other Windows

While I have sufficient opinions on the management of every aspect of life, I’m afraid I will never get the opportunity to run the world according to my designs because I am always discombobulated by the coming of morning. While … Continue reading

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The Diaspora

I’m not in the habit of making New Year’s resolutions, but the last few years have brought home to me how much I have let myself become isolated. At first, by burning all my energy on the pyre of the … Continue reading

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The Fortunate Village

As a young reader I was strongly bitten by poems such as “We Are Those People” by Robinson Jeffers, and novels like “The Man in the High Castle” by Phillip Dick. The darkness and chaos of the last few years … Continue reading

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Since I Must Go

While I should have been letting go of all thinking behind my half-closed eyelids, I noticed instead how the creases in my cupped palms spelled out MM–memento mori. From then until the closing bell chimed, this little poem formed in mind. … Continue reading

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At the Turn of the Year

Most of the time, time runs slow; change is gradual. But not always. Sometimes change is Ai-yi-yi!, sudden as a heart attack, or so it seemed when I was 14. At the Turn of the Year Like many a 14-year-old … Continue reading

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Armistice Day

The geese and the leaves, the last few weeks before winter conquers all have always been tinged with melancholy for me. Veterans Day commemorations conflate in my mind with the autumn Moratorium days during the Vietnam War when we marched … Continue reading

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Laying in the Bulbs

Reading Michael Pollan has reoriented my brain a little as regards who’s the boss of me. He reckons a mysterious vegetable intelligence has been breeding us all the while we have been breeding plants. We are symbiotic in ways we … Continue reading

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Hold My Glasses; Hold My Beer

I’ve gotten a little long in the tooth to be punching people in the face, though there are times when I am still tempted. Then I remember the pointlessness of it all and the stupid-making effects of holding on to … Continue reading

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