...just my fair share ( Read more... )

Sorry for posting so much sorry stuff about sorry affairs, but this item from Libération's defense blogger struck me. Such items are daily fare in major American newspapers. Whatever else their faults may be, the big dailies do not forget our losses. In the French press, a dead soldier disappears from public attention with all the fanfare of an ( Read more... )

...and the world is too small ( Read more... )

Led my little war band on its warmup run through a hamlet outside of Le Mans. If you lead they will follow. Utterly true. At this point I don't even have to speak much. I point to my watch and go. And we fall into step in the morning sun. I couldn't find the right way so I merely chose a direction. Our direction. Through the narrow lanes. Across a ( Read more... )

My god all this undone. I meant to tell him about the cow. I meant to tell her about the cow. I meant to sing her a little song about the cow. I will, I write, I will, I will. Am choosing what to leave and in so doing am leaving it in its deranging state, undone, the file is open in Paris, the money left on the desk, yesterday I pulled a hundred ( Read more... )

I have no reason to feel run to ground. I could not list one reason when asked. Things, such as they are, move forward in a generally herdable and positive fashion. I am powerless to begin a sentence with "Things," without adding ", such as they are." Just as I am completely powerless in this moment to get out of this hard chair, out of this wan ( Read more... )

There was no particular opposition present.  They were all of the former category. They were few. We began in the afternoon. I was barely warm. I was still on Paris time and drowsy from medication. It hurt to stomp my foot. I was reluctant to lunge. The opposition must always be considered either dangerous or good. There really no other types of ( Read more... )

I wonder if, once you are slightly implicated in the gray world, whether the gray world rolls into your zone like a fog or whether you just develop an eye for its guises and can spot it slipping under doors, into train cars, sitting in the seat beside you on a plane from Paris to Detroit. He wore what I took to be captain's bars. But I did not take ( Read more... )

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Somehow even my computer came through. My liver as well. The apricot tart is a write-off, but we will eat it anyway this evening. My attacker, however, I beat bloody. No website exaggeration. Can you believe that, in the midst of combat, while rolling on the floor in front of the mailboxes in the entryway to my apartment, I was thinking of how ( Read more... )