fathers and sons
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Worth the Chuckles and Tears: Calypso by David Sedaris
Part of the magic of David Sedaris’s work stems from the simple truth that you really can’t laugh heartily until you’re hurting deeply.
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Songs of Our Lives: Jim Carroll’s “People Who Died”
All around me were strangers. All around me were friends. A dark glittering sea of fists. What a terrible, wonderful thing, to be welcomed into this fellowship at last.
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Voices on Addiction: Keys
He wasn’t an alcoholic! He was just British. I was starting to think that this bullet was long past being dodged.
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Your Patriotism Isn’t Love, It’s Blindness
Love of country, some argue. With their boots firmly planted in my chest as I struggle to protest. No, that is not love, but blindness.
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The Storming Bohemian Punks the Muse #35: Moons and Mirrors, Fathers and Sons
So, I had a vision this morning in which I visited the moon. What’s that? You don’t have visions? Oh, my friend, you must learn to have visions; it is a gift that saves. I did not intend to go…
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Wanted/Needed/Loved: Brendan Canty’s Vintage Drums
I just remember when I first started playing that set how beautiful and perfect it was. Having a real instrument really made a difference. I started really playing!
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The Storming Bohemian Punks the Muse #31: Pulling the Trigger on Father’s Day
June is an ambivalent month for me. As a child it meant the start of summer vacation, and weeks spent at my grandparent’s beautiful beach home in Hyannisport. This was wonderful because it meant spending time with my siblings and…
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Rumpus Original Fiction: Day of the Dead
Octavio is tired, tired of trying to separate what he remembers so vividly from the memories he can barely make out in the fog.
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Where You Put It on the Line: A Conversation with Mychal Denzel Smith
Mychal Denzel Smith discusses his debut nonfiction book Invisible Man, Got the Whole World Watching, how the activist space has changed in recent years, and who he is writing for.
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The Rumpus Saturday Essay: The Savage Mind, Pt. 3
To deny violence is to do it. Our surprise at Sandy Hook and Cold Springs and Columbine is a form of violence in its own right.
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The Saturday Rumpus Essay: The Savage Mind, Pt. 2
There isn’t even a discussion. There aren’t any words. You just start swinging—the building is a fence, your cousins are a fence. The two of you are surrounded. There’s no escape for either of you.
