Scars of a Boy

Scars of a Boy

Death does a really good job of making saints out of sinners. It seems like when someone dies in our world today, they immediately pass into a state of sainthood. Take Peter Mayhew for example; Chewbacca. Mayhew died on April 30th, and I have been reading for days now about what a great, amazing, kind hearted person he was; when all I had heard about him pre-death, is what an asshole he was—refusing to even talk to kids unless they had cash for his time.

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Self-Imposed Stockholm Syndrome

Self-Imposed Stockholm Syndrome

After all these podcasts are edited, the videos are rendered, and the audio is processed; I get tired. Sometimes I wonder if the Fat Dog Network is the thing that keeps me going. Some days it is; it’s the sole reason I bother to do anything with myself at all. Some days, it’s not enough. Without a pressing deadline, I push myself farther into my escapism and though work gets done there—it’s somehow counter intuitive to the processes of this network.

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Uncle Ralph

Uncle Ralph

An uncle of mine died a few days ago, and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the man. He’s my moms’ youngest brother, but at fourteen years her junior, my mother also functioned as his for a large part of his life. Their mother died before I was even born, meaning Ralph was younger than fifteen at the time of her death. Big sisters are gifts from above in this regard.

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A Strange Planet Indeed

A Strange Planet Indeed

Let’s start this by stating my position, I’m pro-choice. I believe the only one that should be making choices for a woman about her body, is that woman (or an appointed guardian in the case of loss of mental facility). This isn’t a post in defense of anybody, it’s about us and our cancel culture.

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The Mountain Sprawling

The Mountain Sprawling

The mountain in the distance would take my breath away, stealing my eyes from my words and rehoming them in oblivion. A sprawling forest lay between her and I, covering her feet from God. I know that she has a name but that name I do not know. It was six o’clock in the morning on a Wednesday that I decided to run to her; it was six o’clock in the morning when I decided to push myself outside of my comfort zone.

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