Monthly archives: December 2008

yours for the apocalypse

The war has started. On the way to the supermarket, a firing-squad worth of shots ringing through the air, then, laughter. New Year’s Eve on our doorstep, and not a teenager without a handful of explosives.
Last year, I spent New Year’s Eve right in the heart of the battle. A night of poker and whiskey, then out into the Frankfurt night to giggle and drunkenly throw fireworks into the street (and at cars, and our friends). This year we have decided to flee to the south, where we will remain in hiding until the battle is [...]

’twas the night before christmas

And all through the house, people were cooking knödel and seitan and vegan cookies and decorating the tree with emtpy beer cans and I’d be willing to bet that there is at least one mouse stirring, somewhere in the joker’s head statue above the entrance where they’ve made their scratchy, squeaky nest, and dreaming of all of the crumbs that we will leave behind after the feasting and the drinking and the ugliest-present secret santa.
Happy winter (the days are officially getting longer now, a whole minute every day), happy dumpster feista (if there is one time of year were mind-boggling [...]

doctor sweet and mr. appletree

There was only one Saturday English class I ever taught where my student was more hungover than I was. Meet Mr. Appletree. Mr. Appletree loves accounting, his Cambodian mail-order bride, and their son, and he’s writing a science fiction novel about dragons. He has pale, pinkish skin, and I can always hear him coming a few minutes before he arrives because he’s always fifteen minutes late, and he always sprints up the stairs.
On that particular Saturday, he was already 30 miunutes late. I was disappointed to hear his footsteps echoing up the stairwell; after 45 minutes we’re [...]

may you and your children be mauled to death by rabid wolves

Ninety-three pages.
The baby I spent hours preening over, cooing over, editing and rewriting and rearranging until I got it just right. Retyping it from a print out after the first Seagate hard drive in my Apple laptop crashed. Fussing over ever word, like a parent over an infant, every sentence a finger nail, a toe, a new tooth.
When the second hard drive went down, I considered, in a moment that seemed to stretch out in slow motion into all eternity, into a long, agonized scream of anger and pain, that when they replaced the last crashed Seagate hard [...]

there was an old woman who lived in a shoe

I don’t know how to start the story because I’m not sure where it starts or where it ends. In media res: Me, right now, sitting in the vegan kitchen, next to the crackling wood stove.
Two days ago Workshop fired up the circle saw, and we sliced up all the junk wood we found laying around so it would be small enough to fit in the kitchen wood stove’s tiny door. Every couple of days I chop wood with an ax with an almost-broken handle. One day soon the head is going to split and go flying [...]

fuck off azi punks

Tuesday Scissors and I biked into the city. Tuesdays mean farmers’ markets, and farmers’ markets mean free food: fruit and vegetables too ugly too sell, leftovers we’d usually need to climb and dig to get to.
Backpacks full of apples, cauliflower, fennel, and salad, we locked up our bikes and took a walk through the circus that the city becomes every Christmas season. Mainz’s shopping district is a mess. Not a literal mess—you’d be hard pressed to find any actual trash—but a diagonal, triangonal, octagonal mess of alleys crossing pedestrian ways crossing side streets, winding in and [...]