Blogs
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“Danse Macabre, Mississippi” by Anna Journey
Danse Macabre, Mississippi: My Great-Grandmother Fires a BB Gun There were black-eyed Susans loose at the hip, the limp magnolia blooms worked to a quiver. There were white necks of…
DEAR SUGAR, The Rumpus Advice Column #18
Do his other good qualities outweigh his inconsideration in this matter? I have a hunch you already know the answer to that one.
THE EYEBALL: There Will Be Blood
Sometimes I just want an actor to take a movie by the fuckin’ balls. I’m thinking of Benicio del Toro in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas or Jack Nicholson…
Somalian Refugee Writers Show the Way
Dadaab is not an oasis. There is no water. In July, food rations are expected to be cut back to 1000 calories a day. The camps are short 38,000 latrines. Every year only twenty students from the entire camp escape to university, the only legitimate way out.
The Last Book I Loved: Hunts In Dreams
In the end, Hunts In Dreams is not a particularly deep book. But it's rich, strange, comforting and sad all at once.
THE LONELY VOICE #7, The Rumpus Short Story Column: My Son the Murderer
In honor of Governor Mark Sanford and Michael Jackson’s (bless his Indiana soul) favorite holiday, today’s Lonely Voice is devoted to dads, interesting, fascinating, All-American dads…
A FAN’S NOTES #10, The Rumpus Sports Column: Reasons to Attend the Ballgame with Your Rabbi
REASON ONE Rabbis get great seats. Or at least my brother does: for the last ten years or so, my older brother Steve has had a pulpit job at a…