- New Paltz, New York, US
- September 21
- Founder, Chief of Deselopy (small packages); Editor (doesthismakesense.com)
- small packages, inc.
- I write.
MY RECENT POSTS
- not quite whole
December 17, 2013 05:22AM
- I miss being touched.
September 12, 2013 05:04PM
- hope springs
March 20, 2013 10:26AM
March 16, 2013 06:03PM
- brain drugs
March 09, 2013 09:59AM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “you need a primary pr
hook and a follow-up campaign.
December 17, 2013 02:24AM
- “i felt you all.
Imagination or magic, I
pretended and it
courtesy of your…”
September 13, 2013 08:09AM
- “i take it all back. Tink
vets you, so ok.
March 23, 2013 12:28PM
- “A feline or three,
March 23, 2013 08:59AM
- “You are funny, this
piece is wacky and droll at
the same time
March 21, 2013 07:55AM
Greg Correll's Links
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I love that you wrote about this, Michael. I sometimes think there is a "cone of silence" around secular and Humanist writing. It's as if it doesn't exist. So kudos on noticing and taking it seriously.… Read full post »
We live in an amazing time. Today, most private citizens in first-world countries – heck, anyone with their own computers or a local public library – have access to podcasts about logic, reason, rationality, critical thinking, science, and scholarship of all kinds. Yale's free onli… Read full post »
I say, I try to say: I didn't understand, I didn't grow up. I didn't know how much...
Wet are my hands, my arms, my cheeks and my chin, all kinds of wet: fresh ropey wet from my nose like a river… Read full post »
Free will is an illusion. Operationally, it exists at the local
level – I "choose" to go left instead of right – but it
does not actually exist.
We cannot choose to do anything other than those things that a human ape can do, on planet Earth, limited by the physical laws… Read full post »
You know that sensation when you repeat a familiar word until it becomes alien and new? And then you can't see the familiar anymore, and the letters themselves threaten to become squiggles and arbitrary marks, and we sense our three-year-old selves peering out through tired eyes?
Do this for… Read full post »
Civility is not the same thing as "nice". The right to be anonymous online, by choice and where allowed locally, I applaud. The "right" to crap on people online, to endlessly and pointlessly attack and demean, in the inane name of "winning" a point,… Read full post »
They laughed together, sometimes. He/… Read full post »
Hold that thought. I must introduce/… Read full post »
I was a single parent in the 70's and 80's, when I was in my early twenties. I raised my first daughter alone until she was seven.
Here's a typical day for a single parent:
Wake up prepared. Breakfast is in the cupboard, at least for her, and… Read full post »
My ex-wife Mirren killed herself. It took her more than twenty years and all her many meds. Ten years ago she let her mother find her dead on the living room sofa, in the middle of the day.… Read full post »
Hear me Icarus:
I paint you in place, under the sun.
Flammable oil, you never ignite.
You rise from spirits, just so.
You will never hold Apollo
but you will not see burnt feathers fall,
or strong arms fail for lack of mercy.
We enter our new, cocoa-brown home. I drop our three sacks, big
frame pack, and lumpy duffle just inside the door. Molly
carries her two favorite stuffed dolls.
We stand in the dim afternoon light. We smell the spruce trees that rise above the north end of the house.… Read full post »
[VERSE the first]
My watery hope is someday, they say,
"Thanks for waiting for us, Dad, as
we became wise. And appreciate you."
Yeah. As if. This will only happen
if I don't say things like
"I'm not how you think."
Because… Read full post »
A shrug, perhaps.
Then comets rain amino acids.
We are a by-product
of brave stromatolites
who made oxygen
two and a half billion years ago.
OK, OK, cooling, warming, and so on.
thawing from heat within.
Last night I posted a blog that I have since taken down. I had to, because the comments missed my main points and everyone got embroiled in personal vendettas and side issues and failed to respond to the essential issues I made about Israel, autism, and the cross-post stalking problems… Read full post »
I fear my love is not real, my compassion a facade, that others feel something more real, more ecstatic, more steady, when they love.
I fear my love for my children will devour me, use/… Read full post »
(self-portrait, by Molly, Rocky and Eli)
one of each girl,
to each of you:
Love this paltry life. Work it, sisters.
Throw your whole life at it.
Dance – then dervish, when the old folks sit down.
Step and repeat.
Take… Read full post »
Sam Harris might improve human society with his new book The Moral Landscape. He surveys and parses the objective, quantifiable character of human morality (emergent, from both biology and experience) versus supernatural (founded on wisdom texts and faith in a deity), or naturalistic (an historic ter… Read full post »
in most light but when I sing
I feel every word like Ethel,
I mean something.
Every word is
the living spinach of love,
a rasp on honey,
smack-fancy sex,/… Read full post »
Whitman's ghost is in the new air around me
not the figure in the workman shirt
not the settled legend
but the electric and naked poet
drunk with this thing oxygen
dancing atom Whitman
fresh from the oily steam of the wharf
and the ca-lak a-lak of trolleys an/… Read full post »
1. Describe a rock.
2. Make shit up. Like, a 10 minute play that starts "Agnes Moorehead and Steve Reeves are paddling an imaginary rowboat a thousand miles under the frozen methane ice of Plethkar 12..."
3. Think of your Dreadful Secret. (Everyone has at least one.) Now write about something else, a… Read full post »
I can pretend anything
I cup the ordinary
rattle rattle scatter
I lean forward
He died today. We held him and petted him and reminded him of his brave and sturdy self.
When he was just a few months old he got so excited he did a 360 degree back flip and landed on his feet, still yipping.
He was a freakishly large shitzu.… Read full post »
four floors of tired brick
above august brooklyn
on torn warm tar paper
my love under and above me
in the unconditional air of one am
my curlfinger closes
a touch the touch
slide our mesh holds fast
w/… Read full post »