Thoughts on a drive out into the country, where the rebel flags fly.
If nothing else, Trump is the bigoted totem by which we measure our perceived growth as a nation.
In which I work out my own internal struggles – the oscillation between love and hate – with the field of journalism.
Punk bands aren't supposed to age well. That's why Strung Out's latest release is so confounding.
All the years growing up in Western New York and not once did any of us ever consider getting out on the snaking Allegheny River that winds through town. Not once*. A paddle or even a swim might as well have been a bike ride to the moon. Yet, on this particular Saturday at least, groups [...]
The last two months appear like one, big amorphous blob of days. Thank god for pens.
A small compilation of photographed moments from a very good year.
One billion Sunday sermons and several hundred pages of scripture distilled into a single, foundational directive: Be good to each other.
It seems borderline impossible nowadays to enjoy a tiny sliver of pop culture without bringing at least some third-party opinion into the experience. Hype – positive and negative – snowballs in the age of the internet, where deep-dives and think-pieces exist to segment, dissect and extract cultural value. To say we’re blind to it or [...]